You know, it's really easy for us to look back at things and see clearly what we did wrong. Hence the saying 'hindsight is 20/20.' For example: I know today that I didn't get into Tisch because of one thing I did in my audition. Before I started my song, I did the tiniest vocal check. It couldn't have lasted longer than three seconds, but it was three seconds of wasted time. I know now that casting directors immediately write someone off for doing something like that because it's unprofessional. I saw the members of the panel write something down and it completely threw me. Because of that, at least twelve other people were better than me and were offered spots in the musical theatre program.
This is how we learn from our mistakes and become better people. After two years without her and after spending the last two months with Santana, I've been thinking about the events that led to our demise. The more that I think about it, the more I think it can be summed up by 'we were both young and stupid.' Every complicated aspect leads to that one explanation.
We didn't know what we were doing. That's not to say we know now, but we definitely know more.
Speaking for myself: I know now that I did hurt her. I wasn't trying to and I didn't see it because I thought what I was doing was right, but if I look at it from her side, it looks like I gave up. Then I twisted the knife. She was a rebound and I let it go on too long out of pride and principle. Bailey was a good person and she deserved to be with someone that actually loved her. I just couldn't do that. I wound up hurting two people in the end. Three, if I include myself.
I knew Santana was hurting when things ended, but somehow I had convinced myself that it was completely her doing. I had tried... until I stopped. I'd held onto this for two years. Now that she's back in my life, I can't believe what an idiot I had been.
I had a chance. Well, I had several chances, but there's one in particular that haunts me. The day she came back to school. Our stare down in the hallway before the final late bell. My instincts were screaming at me to kiss away all of her pain; to tell her that I was that there for her despite everything. I could have stopped it all in one moment and I chose to walk away.
She chose to remain to herself.
You see, we were both young and stupid and we broke each others' hearts. I can see that now.
We have this second chance that people don't usually get. I'm in love with her again... or still... I think it might be both, to be completely honest. Neither of us are the same as we were at sixteen and seventeen, but we are.
I'm scared that the parts of us that are the same are the ones that led to our end. That when things get emotionally difficult, Santana shuts down and when I feel like I can't find her, I give up. It's easy to recognize things, but it isn't always easy to recognize them as they happen. Harvey, my ever-perceptive therapist, tells me this often.
All of this is so terrifying, because now that Santana is back in my life, I don't want her gone. I keep waiting for her to say something and I keep getting disappointed. Every time we wind up at her place, I think this is the night that we talk about it and this is the night that the wall causing the stand-off between us comes crumbling down. But it hasn't happened.
I'm not giving up on her this time, though. I really think it's going to happen. She's going to say something. Soon. We haven't expressed certain things, but I know she feels this. I know I'm not alone in this. I can feel it in the way she kisses me and how she touches me. I can see it in the way she responds to me. I'm not alone in this.
Today's a new opportunity. She's meeting me after the show today and from 3:30 to whenever we part ways, she has a chance. We have a chance. Once she starts, I have my own things to say; my own apologies to give. I don't know what she has planned for our date tonight, but tonight might be the night that after something about our past together comes up, she'll bring up our end. I just need her to come to me.
We'll see.
~:~:~
I think I love the stage door as much as I love being onstage. They're starting to get difficult now, though. After nearly two months of being in our theatre, the buzz about Funny Girl has gotten louder. I can't stop and take pictures with people or have conversations anymore and I feel awful. But if I were to do that, I'd never leave. I'm afraid that people are going to start thinking that I'm rude or that I don't care, but I'm not and I do. I just… have a life. That sounds rude, doesn't it? I try to smile as much as I can and sign everything that's put in front of me, but I can't be there for an hour every night. I am grateful, believe me, I still can't believe that all of these people even want my signature let alone a picture with me, but someone is waiting for me.
"Miss Berry?" I hear someone call to me just as Tate opens my door for me. I look at him and he just nods back in the direction that the voice came from.
As I turn around to address the voice, I immediately start saying, "I'm really sorry-" but then I stop because the first face I see is a little girl about seven or eight on crutches. Her entire leg is in a purple cast and how can I say 'no' to anything she asks me? "What's your name?" I ask through a smile because I can give up five more minutes for her. Just looking at her, she reminds me of Brittany's little sister, Lily.
"Emily," she answers.
Her mother immediately starts after she answers, "I'm so sorry, Miss Berry, I'm sure you have somewhere to be and I know the man at the door said no pictures-"
"I think I can make an exception, but just this once," I smile at Emily and then look to her sister who is probably 13 or 14, "What's your name?"
"Rachel," she mumbles and looks to the ground.
"No way! Well, now we have to take a picture together!"
"This was my present for being brave in the hospital," Emily pipes in as she adjusts how she's standing with her crutches, "I broke my femur."
"That's a big bone to break," I say walking over to her quickly so that she doesn't start hopping over to me.
"The biggest!"
Oh my god, she is so much like Lily!
"Thank you so much, Miss Berry, you've really made their day," her mother says to me after she's taken the picture.
"No, thank you! You guys have made my day. And please, Rachel," it's really just too weird when people call me Miss Berry, "I'm really sorry, but I have to go. Someone very special is waiting for me and I promised I wouldn't be late."
"Your girlfriend?" Emily asks with these bright eyes and I'm sure mine turned to absolute surprise. Maybe she is Lily… just you know, with a different face and hair color and two years younger or so.
"Emily!" her sister yells, "I'm sorry, Rachel! I told her not to say anything." She turns back to her sister, "I told you to that those Tumblr posts are just gossip, Emily!"
"I don't even know what that means!" Emily yells back at her sister.
I don't even know what to do. Tate is still waiting there with the car door open, ready for me to get in, I could easily get out of here.
You know what I think my problem is right now? I don't know if Santana is my girlfriend. I told her yesterday that I wanted to tell people who she is, but I don't know.
"Girls! I'm so sorry, Mi- Rachel. You have places to be," their mother grabs the older sister's wrist and starts guiding Emily away from me, "Let's go you two."
"Why couldn't you have kept your mouth shut, Emily? Now she hates us!"
"No I don't!" I call out to them because that is the last thing I want them to think of me. They stop and I walk towards them a little. When I get to them, I bend down a little bit to address Emily. I don't want her to feel bad about what she said to me, despite what her sister says to her, "She isn't yet, but I want her to be."
"So you do like girls?" her face scrunches up a little and it makes me kind of nervous. She's an age at which kids start to become judgmental. They start taking in the things they hear other people say, but they aren't really old enough to form their own opinions.
I'm hoping she really is just like Lily, "Yes, I do."
"You're a really good actress!" she smiles big and her eyes brighten up, "I really thought you were in love that Mr. Arnstein guy!"
The snorting laughter that comes out of my nose is unstoppable and all I can do is say, "Thank you, Emily."
"You should probably go, you promised you wouldn't be late and if you really want that girl to be your girlfriend, you probably shouldn't keep her waiting."
And more laughter.
"Come on, Emily. We've kept Rachel long enough," her mother starts gently pushing her.
"That's what I was trying to tell her! Bye, Rachel!" she waves quickly and then turns around the best she can on crutches.
"Bye," I call out and then turn around, still laughing. I think this is my new favorite stage door moment.
Somehow, I've managed to get myself quite far away from my car. Tate has closed the door by now, but he opens it back up for me as I near it. "I had a feeling you'd want to talk to them, Miss Berry," he smiles at me as I step into the car.
"Because you know how awful I would have felt if I'd ignored a kid in a cast?" I laugh a little.
"Yes ma'am," he smiles at me then closes the door.
"I thought you weren't taking pictures anymore?"
"HOLY SHIT!"
How did I not see her?
"Nice to see you, too, beautiful," she laughs.
"Hi," I sigh and laugh at the same time. I am so happy to see her, "This is such a wonderful surprise."
"That's much better," she smiles with her lips and my eyes go right to them and then my lips do too. I think if it were socially acceptable, I'd like to just never detach myself from her lips. They're perfect and they fit perfectly with mine. But alas, it isn't even remotely acceptable to walk around attached at the lips… for anyone. "Ready for our evening together?" she asks, wagging her eyebrows up and down after she takes her lips back from mine.
Sometimes she is such a clown and I love her for it, "Of course I am. What are we doing?"
It's her turn to plan our date. While I enjoy making the plans, I love when she does.
"Well," she starts, putting her arm up on the back of the seat and I immediately scoot over to snuggle into her, "I thought that we could be tourists for a little bit. I think after living here for a while, we get so into the grind of life that we forget what an awesome place this city is."
You see? She is so good at this. "I love that idea," I say as I watch my fingers spread slowly across her knee. "What touristy things are we doing?" I ask and let my fingers slide gently up and down her thigh a little.
"You're just going to have to wait and see," I can hear her smirking and I as much I love it when she teases me, I don't… not right now at least.
"Come on," I push myself up using her leg as leverage and turn myself so that our faces are very close. "Please tell me," I pout at her. I know I shouldn't abuse it, but it works so well.
She rolls her eyes and sighs then looks back at me with her lips sort of twisted like she's lost the battle with my pout. Like a charm!
"Nice try."
"What?"
And now she's laughing at me. I'm glad she thinks this is funny. I bet she won't think things are funny anymore when my hand inches up to the inside of her thigh. Mhm… just what I thought.
"Where are we going?" I ask with my nose brushing up against hers, then my lips touching hers just slightly.
She swallows hard, then breathes out, "Uh uh. Wait."
I know that I'm trying get something out of her, but I think all I'm really doing right now is torturing myself. I've suddenly forgotten what I'm trying to get out of her. All I know is that one of my hands is between her legs, the other is basically under her butt and my lips are nearly touching hers.
And now they are touching. And I might be on top of her. This is so not safe for riding in a car, but I definitely don't care. Oh right! The car. But I don't want to stop. My hand blindly reaches for the button that puts up the privacy divider and as I'm searching, my hand smacks right into it. I feel Santana laugh into my mouth and I get this mix of butterflies and that feeling in the pit of my stomach, the one that starts before I come completely undone and it's all ridiculously intoxicating. It might actually be a little too much. I probably shouldn't have positioned myself on her leg like this.
I pull myself away just slightly and press our foreheads together. For a little while, we both take ragged breaths into the same space. When Tate puts the car in park, she kisses my nose and I slowly maneuver myself off of her. I look out the window and see that we're at the Staten Island Ferry.
I love this.
When we're out of the car, Santana takes my hand and we start walking towards the entrance to Whitehall Terminal. "I know this is like, public transportation and all, but a lot of tourists ride this thing back and forth so that they see can the Statue of Liberty. And we can just sit and talk for a while, maybe have someone take our picture with the Lady."
"This is perfect," I smile and give her a soft kiss. It really is. It's so simple, but it's still creative.
"Come on," she starts tugging on my hand, "We have to get seats on the right side!"
~:~:~
This has been the most wonderful time. I really love Santana's closeted romantic side. We've just been sitting here watching things as we pass by them slowly. There's been this comfortable combination of quiet and conversation as we take turns holding each other. I think I could sit here on this ferry with her forever. I know I can't, but I could spend an infinite amount of time with her anywhere else.
"I can't believe I hadn't done this before," I say picking up my head from hers and looking at the Statue of Liberty, "We didn't even do anything like this when were here as tourists."
"You and Kurt snuck into the Gershwin..." Santana sits up and quirks her eyebrow at me.
Oh yeah.
"...And we all snuck out and went to Central Park."
"And Lincoln Center and Washington Square Park and Times Square… okay so we covered a lot of ground," I roll my eyes at her, "But we didn't do this or go to the Empire State Building or walk across the Brooklyn Bridge. I haven't done that either! And I live in Brooklyn!"
"You see? Too into the daily grind to enjoy what we have here," she shrugs and interlocks our fingers.
I bet Manhattan looks pretty cool from here. We just started heading back from the Staten Island terminal. I have a feeling I could get some pretty great pictures of lower Manhattan from the front of the ferry. I only have my phone, but it generally takes some pretty decent pictures.
"If it's okay, I'm going to go to the front of the ferry to take some pictures. Since we're tourist-ing and all," I say it as I get up, except my fingers are still intertwined with hers.
"Okay," she says through a light laugh.
"I'll be back," I assure her and leave her with a quick kiss.
We're already sort of close to the front (it was the end when we were heading towards Staten Island) so it doesn't take me all that long to get there. After I take a few photos of Manhattan, Brooklyn, the Statue of Liberty and even a few of New Jersey, I put my phone back in my pocket and look out at the city. Sometimes I still can't believe that I live here. It hasn't even been a year and a half and this place has already given me so much. A home, a career and quite possibly love. Well, it's brought love back to me. Now I just need to keep it.
I should probably get back to her. Why didn't I ask her to come with me? No wonder she was looking at me a little funny. I'm laughing at myself and looking at the ground so that no one will see me laughing at myself. Once I've breathed it out, I look back up and when I do, I see Santana standing, leaning up against the railing and talking to someone else. Another girl. Why is she talking to another girl?
Hold on. Am I getting jealous? Jealousy is ridiculously unattractive. Although, I will admit, Santana used to get a little on the jealous and possessive side and I rather enjoyed it. I'm not sure I've ever really experienced this before. Okay, maybe once when I idiotically thought Santana had cheated on me with Noah. I hated it then and I hate this now! But why is she smiling at this girl? More importantly, why do I care so much? I should butt into this, right?
"Hey, San," I blow right past the girl and immediately grab Santana's hand. But then I look up and recognize the girl that she's talking to.
"Hey, Rach, you remember Liv right?"
"Yeah, of course," I do remember her. Liv is Santana's straight friend from Columbia that I met about a month ago when I met Santana in between her classes for lunch.
"I heard your show is going great!" Liv opens up her arms to give me a hug.
I feel like the biggest idiot on the planet right now.
"It is. Thank you."
"Hey, Santana, good luck on the rest of that paper. I'm sure you'll kill it. Oh and let me know what you think about that case analysis when you get a chance?" Liv starts to back up.
"Thanks, Liv and I will!" Santana answers and Liv turns back to go wherever it is that she's going. "You were jealous," Santana smirks as she turns to lean both of her elbows on the railing.
"I was not."
Oh come on! I am such a better actress than that!
"Oh my god you were!" she continues to tease me and I walk away to sit on the bench across from us, "How the tables have turned."
"Santana, it was an ugly moment and I do not want to discuss it further," I huff and cross both my arms and my legs.
Maybe if I knew what we were, it wouldn't have happened.
Santana sits down next to me, leaving zero space between us and after a moment she says, "You know I'm not going anywhere, right?"
I think I do know that, but I'm not sure how to answer so I simply uncross my arms and legs and snuggle into her. Just another reason why we need to talk about things.
"Don't lose this," she's holding out a MetroCard in front of my face and I take it from her.
"What's this for?" I ask, sitting up.
"The next part of our tourist trip, you'll see," she smirks at me and considering how well my last go at attempting to pry out our destination went, I think I'll be waiting to see.
~:~:~
This morning as I was getting ready to leave for work, Kurt asked me if I knew the difference between love and lust. Of course he asked me in a much more roundabout and tactful way, but he asked me nonetheless. I scoffed at him and told him of course I know the difference. He proceeded to remind me how things had begun with Santana the first time and then reminded me of what seems to be happening by the end of all of our dates together. I do understand the point he was trying to get across: lust has a tendency to cloud one's vision.
I may not have given Kurt the satisfaction of knowing that he was right to ask me, but he was and I've been considering it all day. Well, I've been considering it in all of the moments that I've been Rachel because for two hours and ten minutes I was Fanny Brice and while Fanny's problems are mine, my problems aren't Fanny's. Acting 101. What he said has actually been rather enlightening and as this evening with Santana has gone on, I think I've figured out what's so different between us this time around.
I know that there's a difference between love and lust, but I also know that one can lead to the other and when that happens, the lines that separate them are blurred together. Previously, we had experienced a love that was born out of lust. Today, while I'll willing admit that I am lusting away for her, I know deep in my heart that it stems from the love that I feel for her. Now, by no means am I attempting to discredit what we once had; that was real, no matter how young we were or how short lived it was. I loved her without a doubt in my mind, but now, I'm in love with her. It simply isn't the same. It's what's stopping my lust. I want nothing more than to blur the line separating the two, but I can't do that until I tell her how I feel and I can't do that until we acknowledge our past. Because my lust for her is fueled by my love, I can't give myself to her again until I know we've forgiven each other.
We won't survive if we can't get past this. I know that and I think she knows it as well. Knowledge doesn't fix anything though, action does and I'm still waiting. Waiting is difficult for someone as impatient as I am and when she does things like plan the perfect date, it's even harder.
Part two of Santana's Tourism Extravaganza (her words, not mine) was a walk across the Brooklyn Bridge. She'd planned this before I told her I'd never done it before. The MetroCard she'd given me was for the subway trip from the ferry to the bridge. She told me while we were on the train that she wasn't telling me what the second part was because she thought that I'd complain about it. I scoffed at her at the time, but when I figured out what we were doing, I started complaining. I said, "I can't believe you're going to make me walk all the way across the Brooklyn Bridge after being onstage today."
Her response was was, "There are people that work out after an eight hour day. You can walk across the Brooklyn Bridge after being onstage for two hours."
I scoffed again, "It's two hours and ten minutes and it's exhausting."
"First of all, you only had one show today," she said grabbing my hand and walking me towards the bridge, "and second, this is my plan and I want to walk all the way across this bridge holding your hand while the sun sets. Do you have a problem with that?"
"No, not at all," I answered as I felt my heart combust in my chest.
I wonder if seventeen year old Santana would have given in to my complaint and changed her plans. I don't think that I abused it, but I know that she gave into my demands often once upon a time. I remember hearing Noah and Brittany call her whipped when they didn't think I could hear them. That, what happened after I complained, was not the same and as much as I liked knowing that Santana would do anything for me, I think I like knowing that she won't put up my bullshit even more. Actually, I think it turns me on… just another thing to add to the ever growing list.
We actually spent most of our walk talking about other people. A lot of the trip consisted of Quinn and her girlfriend, who is wonderful, by the way. I met her earlier. She's very charming and quite attractive. She and Quinn look very adorable together and very much in love. I'm happy for Quinn. Santana also informed me that she caught up Brittany for a little bit before she came to meet me. Apparently, Brittany is dating two people… at the same time… and they are 100% aware of each other. They are so aware of each other that they are also dating. It sounds confusing but I really think it's as simple as Brittany is in a relationship with two other people and you know what? I'm not even surprised. Santana wasn't surprised either. She actually said, "You know what? Britt has a big heart. I'm not surprised she's sharing it with more than one person at a time."
We took a break in the middle of the bridge and had someone take our picture before it was too dark. It's probably my favorite thing ever. We were originally just standing next to each other against the rail, but the very kind stranger that was taking the picture for us said, "Come on guys, act like you like each other!" We looked at each other and laughed. Then I wrapped my arms around her waist as one of hers went around my shoulder. After our photographer said, "That's better," I quickly got up on my toes and kissed her cheek. "Perfect," he said handing me back my phone. I looked at it and I couldn't have agreed more. He caught me kissing her cheek and her in the middle of a laugh. Her eyes are closed, but she has the most gorgeous, natural smile. I made it the lock screen on my phone and I can't stop looking at it.
Next on the list of things to do is dinner. She preodered Grimaldi's pizza. It's kind of average as far as New York pizza places are concerned, but it's proximity to the bridge makes it a popular tourist destination. We've walked over to the carousel with our giant cheese pizza and we're sitting on the steps behind it. The carousel is inside of a glass box and it's brightly lit, so even in the dark, we can see almost like it's day time. Everything in the city is lit. From here, we can see almost all the way uptown. It's beautiful. I keep turning my head to the left or looking at my phone and finding something even more beautiful though.
"You know, I'm really starting to regret telling you that I'm not vegan anymore," I say as I take a slice from the box.
"You know, you're saying that to me as you take your third slice," Santana smiles as she takes a bite of her own third slice.
"The crust is thin," I shrug as if that's a defense. I'll probably eat my designated fourth piece as well. Whatever, I work out a lot.
"You're gonna hate me when I tell what the last part is," she laughs.
"Oh, you're actually going to tell me this time?"
"Well, I can't just invite myself over to your place," she shrugs with the shoulder closest to me and gives a slightly nervous half smile.
"If I do, will you tell me exactly what your plan is?" Finally some leverage!
"Absolutely," she smiles.
I guess it could be my turn to host her, besides, Kurt's staying at Blaine's tonight because Sam is in LA for the week. "Santana, would you like to come back to my place? I have it to myself tonight."
"I would love to, Rachel."
"So what's the last part?"
"Dessert."
"And what's for dessert?" I lean in and bring my face a little closer to hers. She did say she'd tell me exactly what her plan is.
"How does Apple Cinnamon Pancakes a la Mode sound?"
"Like you're trying to make me fat! First pizza and now that?" I'm joking, but it's fun to watch her roll her eyes at me.
"You just walked all the way across the Brooklyn Bridge and you have a session with your personal trainer tomorrow! You aren't going to get fat!" she huffs at me and I can't stop laughing. "What?"
"I know," I'm still laughing.
"So stop saying that! You're hot Rach, accept it," she gets closer to me. Close enough that it would be quite easy for me to just kiss her.
"Okay," I breathe out then move forward that inch so that our lips press together. I want to tell her now. When our lips part, I want to tell her that I love her, but I can't. Not yet.
There's still time.
~:~:~
Santana planned every last aspect of this date. She met up with Tate so that she'd already be in the car when he pulled up to the theatre and so that they could plan where to meet after we were done with our pizza. She knew how long we'd be on the ferry, approximately how long it would take us to get across the bridge so that the pizza would be ready for us. She even had Kurt pick some things up for the dessert she's making and bring them into the apartment while I was gone. Good thing I did invite her over because seeing the apples on the counter and the ice cream in the freezer would have made me feel terrible had I not.
I love watching her cook. I don't think she knows she's doing it, but she dances. It's nothing huge, she just sort of moves her hips a little and bobs her head to a beat. She must always have something stuck in her head when she's cooking. It's something that she does that's cute and sexy all at once. While I watch her from this seat at the table, the question of love or lust comes into my head and I'm reassured that love comes first. I just know.
She catches me watching her when she turns around to ask, "Where are the plates?"
I just bite down on my lip and point to the cabinet directly behind her. "I'm happy you're here," I say after she turns back around and after she's opened the cabinet.
"Me too," she says and smiles back at me over her shoulder.
"That smells like heaven, by the way," I breathe through a laugh.
"I hope it tastes like that," she laughs back on her way the fridge, "I kind of just made this up."
"You made it, I'm sure it's amazing," I roll my eyes at her because she should know by now that I've never not liked something she's made for me. "When have I not liked something you've made?" I ask because I really can't remember, but she might.
"I tried to recreate my tofu stir fry with eggplant and you hated it," she answers me immediately.
Oh my god! That was awful! I do remember! "It was slimy!" I laugh and stick my tongue out remembering exactly how bad it was.
"So are mushrooms and you eat those," she scoffs at me and returns to fridge to put the ice cream back.
"Mushrooms aren't slimy," I scoff back then see that Santana is looking for something in the fridge, "What are you looking for?"
"Uhh… got it," she smiles a closed lipped smile back at me then pulls out a can of whipped cream, "Mushrooms are gross. They're a fungus that grow in the woods. Animals shit in the woods."
I know that that was funny but all I can think about is my seventeenth birthday. She'd taken me on a surprise trip the aquarium, we had dinner with my fathers when we got home, then we went to bed and barely slept. There's no way she isn't thinking about the last time we were together. I can't stop my brain from flashing back to it as I hear the swish of the whipped cream coming out of the can. I slam my eyes shut and open them back up again a few times in an effort to remain in this moment. Maybe this will be it. Maybe she'll say something now.
"All done," she turns around with two perfectly plated breakfast desserts.
I let out the breath that I didn't realize I was holding as I say, "Come on." I gesture to the couch, get up and try not to let my disappointment show as I say, "We have cable."
She laughs a little as we walk over to the tired couch that Kurt and I procured when we moved here.
"I really like your place," Santana says as she sits down and I put the television on. I flip through a few channels and stop at a random one that's playing Never Been Kissed.
"Thanks," I reply as I sit down next to her and she hands me the plate. Kurt and my apartment is actually quite similar to Santana's. It's different in that it's much bigger, however it's one giant room that we've divided with curtains and bookcases plus a bathroom and a giant sliding door. "Are you waiting for me?" I ask after looking at her and seeing she hasn't taken a bite yet.
"Maybe," she looks at me nervously.
Ugh! I'm so disappointed and frustrated but everything she does so endearing… and these pancakes smell so good! "Oh my god! You just made this up?" I ask before I even swallow the forkful of amazing that I just tasted.
"It isn't too sweet?" she asks as she cuts into her own.
"No! It's perfect! I think it's because the apples are fresh, they balance out the batter. San, this is amazing," I think I might be moaning over this. Seriously, this is unbelievable. I don't know why people say the way to someone's heart is through their stomach, it's blatantly through their mouth. My stomach isn't tasting how fantastic Santana's cooking is.
"I saved the rest of the batter and I can write down how to cook them," she says, smiling after swallowing her first bite. "When I told Kurt what I was making he told me to save him some."
"Of course he did," I laugh.
"You know," she says after a few bites and through a mouthful, pointing at the TV with her fork and I laugh a little because she's talking to me through a mouthful, "This is one of my favorites."
"Because you love romantic comedies. I know and your secret has remained safe with me," I roll my eyes playfully and continue to devour what's on the plate in my lap.
"Thank god! I don't know what I'd do if people found out," she feigns worry, then laughs as she cuts into her pancake and ice cream.
Without looking up from my plate or thinking, I ask, "Remember when we ran into Mr. Schue and Miss Pillsbury at the movies?"
"I thought Miss Pillsbury was going to pass out she was so worried," Santana laughs as she puts her plate on the coffee table.
As I do the same, I say, "I was so nervous I couldn't let go of your hand and then they figured us out, so we were even."
When I sit back I see that Santana is chewing on the inside corner of her lip. My heart starts beating faster as the thought of 'now' runs through my head. Finally, she's going to say something now.
"That," she starts, then bites down on her lip for a moment. I'm suddenly feeling very anxious and I know I'm leaning forward anticipating what she's going to say. She takes a deep breath then, "I knew I was in love with you that night."
I know that isn't what I was looking for but I couldn't help it. I had to kiss her. How could I not? She'd never told me that before. And it is something. And so is her tongue and oh god, the tongue sucking thing. And somehow I've managed to be straddling her thighs.
This is what keeps happening. One of us caves in to our lust and we can't stop… until we get to that point where we have to and then it's too late. Not tonight, though. She will say something. That's happening tonight.
Her lips leave mine and kiss across to my jaw, then up behind my ear. I hear her sigh just before she sucks lightly and briefly. She kisses down the side of my neck all the way to my collar bone and I feel her hands move up from my hips, under my shirt. But she stops.
"It's okay," I whisper, my own fingers getting lost in her hair. I want her hands on my skin. I know it does something to her and maybe it will invoke something. She looks up at me and when her lips meet mine again, she lets her hands find my bare back.
I don't know why, but I have this impulse and I take my hands out from her hair, tuck them under my shirt and unclasp my bra. She doesn't notice what I'm doing until I'm maneuvering it out through my sleeves. When she does, I can see her swallow hard. Her lips meet with my neck again, this time they press harder and with every one what's happening between my legs gets a little more difficult to handle. Her hands have lifted higher, high enough that her thumbs are brushing dangerously close to my breasts.
"You can touch me you know... anywhere you want," I'm baiting her. I know she won't unless we talk about things. I swear I'm not trying to be manipulative, I'm trying to keep her.
"I want to," I can feel her struggling as her breath falls heavy on my chest and her hands fall to my hips.
"So why won't you?" I husk into her ear then take the tiniest piece of skin between my teeth.
Please take this from me. Please. I am so desperate for her to say something.
"I..."
Please.
"I should probably get going."
"Stay," I know I sound desperate, but that's how I feel, "Kurt isn't coming back tonight."
"I should finish that paper and I have class tomorrow," her thumbs are digging into my hips and I can't tell if she's pushing me away or holding me down.
Why is she fighting?
Perhaps more importantly, why am I torturing myself?
"Fine," I huff and yank myself off of her. I'm far too frustrated to keep this up. In more ways than one.
"O... kay," she doesn't move and her face is covered in perplexity.
I'm not really sure what's so puzzling about this. It seems pretty cut and dry to me.
"You have to go all the way to Harlem," I say getting up and picking up our plates from the coffee table, then take them over to the sink.
"Rach...?"
I simply don't have the energy for this anymore tonight and I'm so frustrated I feel like I'm going to cry.
"It's okay, you have important things to do," I can feel the tears biting at my throat and now I wish that she would leave.
"That's not what I-"
"You can go Santana!" I snap at her. I didn't mean to and the look on her face is killing me, but her lack of effort hurts just a little bit more, "Don't forget to call me."
After that's in the air, I watch as her lips curl into each other and her eyes leave mine for the kitchen table between us. I know she's fighting off tears but she still isn't saying anything. She could say something right now and everything would be alright, but she isn't. She's picking up her jacket and walking towards the door. She doesn't even say good bye when she slides it open and walks out of it.
With tears blinding my eyes I storm over to the door and slide the pad lock into it. As soon as that's done, I turn around to go back to the sink but I can't. My back hits the door and my body slides down it to the floor.
I tried! How could she just go? I set myself up for this. I really thought things were going to be different. But she's exactly the same. Just run when the feelings are too much. And god I tried everything! I tried everything save bringing it up myself - oh my god.
Oh my god.
I'm still young and stupid.
A/N: Eek. Guess you'll have to wait until Tuesday... or Wednesday... depends on how my week goes. Can't wait to hear from you.
A/N 2: Now for some fun. I hope you all enjoy this letter that I have written to my dear friend Guest. Feel free to laugh at their expense.
Dear Guest Reviewer,
I just want to take the time to thank you. Thank you 1) for wasting your own time reading something that you didn't enjoy and 2) wasting more of your time writing a 'review.' You provided me with some traffic and a glorious laugh. I'm hoping that the contents of this little letter will also provide others with a fantastic laugh at your expense, as well.
I'm guessing that very colorful review took you anywhere between 1 and 2 minutes to type up, so for the next time decide that you want to plague a story's review box with your ugliness, I have compiled a list of things that you could do to better spend your time:
1) Find something else on this site to read.
2) Put on some chapstick.
3) Send a funny Snapchat.
4) Figure out how to make a pen name.
5) Check your email.
6) Quote Mean Girls: "You go, Glenn Coco!"
7) Make some emoji art on your phone.
8) 1-2 minute dance party.
9) Contemplate what a silly face 8) makes.
10) Make a list of less wasteful things to do in 1-2 minutes of your life.
I really do hope this was helpful, because really, that's all I want out of life is to be helpful in some way. Since I wasn't helpful in entertaining you, I hope I have provided you with better things to do with your precious time. I personally have had a wonderful time concocting this letter to you and actually have found myself having yet another marvelous laugh. So, thank you very much again Guest. You keep being you.
Sincerely,
forrealrightnow
PS - You are still a coward. You have no face. Next time, leave an email so that I can berate you personally. Smooches!