Brittany grinned at the sound of Santana's laughter. It had been so long since she'd heard that sound that it made her heart thump. She was grateful that Santana could even find moments of lightheartedness within everything she was struggling with - that she could be afraid one moment and letting Brittany swing her around a city block in the next. Stroking her cheek, Brittany matched Santana's smile when she confirmed that she did, in fact, believe Brittany. In honesty, Brittany was nervous that Santana may never believe her, that she may have to spent forever proving that she wasn't going anywhere. And if that had been the case, Brittany knew she deserved it for leaving Santana once before.

But Santana believed her promise, and that motivated Brittany to never even dare to make Santana question her loyalty again. It was a silent promise she made to Santana and their relationship, standing there brushing Santana's tears away in the middle of the street. "Come on," Brittany giggled, finding her hand again and pulling her along. She felt considerably lighter, but she knew that they had still so recently walked through darkness, the issues they had eating breakfast not too far off from where they stood.

"What do you want to do today?" She wondered as Santana unlocked the loft and they stepped inside, Brittany setting the food on the counter. "Do you have class today" Brittany wondered, glancing around but not seeing Rachel or Kurt around.

Santana feels like she is walking almost in a daze as she lets Brittany guide her the rest of the way back to the loft. It's a good thing Brittany seems to remember the way on her own because Santana is not paying attention at all. She can't stop smiling. Though her insecurity is far from resolved, she feels that her life has just changed for the better, just by Brittany choosing in spite of everything to stay.

Letting them in, she nods as Brittany asks her about class. "Yeah, two, but in the afternoon and evening. One is just student presentations so I might skip. The other is a test so I want to, but zeroes aren't an awesome look."

She shrugged, not worried. "The stuff is pretty self explanatory though if you listen to half of what is said and read the stuff assigned, so it's okay, I can pass without studying for it. Until then we can do whatever."

She snuck a glance at the bag of food. She is more likely to eat when she is completely alone and no one is watching, but that often means she later feels guilty and pushes herself to purge by working out or restricting more the next day. Wanting to escape the food, she says, "I think I want to brush my teeth and shower. Is it- will you sit with me?"

She asks hesitantly, still a little embarrassed, but less shamed by the request than yesterday.

Brittany nodded, accepting Santana's answer. She didn't push about the test, mostly because she knew Santana probably would go and because she knew if Santana went, she'd probably pass too. Santana was ridiculously good at school and could do well on tests and papers when she really didn't even try that hard - Brittany knew from watching her first hand. She also knew that while Santana sometimes hurried through papers between Cheerios and glee club, she genuinely really liked school for the most part and was passionate about doing well in it. She felt a low, twinge of sadness at thinking about how Rachel and Kurt told her that Santana didn't always go to class, imagining how hard it was on top of dealing with her daily struggles.

She caught Santana glance toward the food but didn't comment, figuring that maybe she'd eat later on, now that it was just the two of them alone with no one to watch or potentially upset her. Nodding when Santana suggested a shower, Brittany threw her a warm smile. "Of course I'll sit with you," Brittany confirmed, feeling that familiar thrill of excitement that Santana had asked her, even though she knew she probably would. She planned on hanging back to wait until Santana told her it was okay to come in, but as Santana stepped past her to slip into the bathroom, Brittany reached her forward, grabbing her wrist at the last second.

When Santana turned to her, surprised, Brittany found that heart was in her throat and she sucked in a deep, steadying breath. "I…." She trailed off, biting her lip, holding Santana's gaze. "Can I come in with you now?" Brittany asked softly, both of them knowing exactly what she meant by her words. Her heart was pounding, and she felt Santana's pulse under her fingers where she held her wrist,

Santana's pulse spiked at Brittany's request. She tensed up, her mind beginning to trip over itself with worry and self judgment, fear of Brittany's judgment or disappointment in her. She knows very well why Brittany wants to come into the bathroom before she is fully undressed and in the shower, out of her view. Brittany wants to look at her, to take in for herself just how small Santana has grown.

She can tell by Brittany's tone and expression that she is nervous, maybe by her concern of how Santana may react, but maybe as well because she is bracing herself for the sight of Santana's uncovered body. Santana wants to immediately tell her no, to slam up defensive walls and shove Brittany further from her carefully guarded inner life and how it affects her on the outside. But Brittany's naked fear and concern for her, as powerful as her care, weakens her automatic bristling.

Her shoulders slump, her eyes dropping, and she is aware of how Brittany's hand fully circles her wrist and overlaps several inches with its small diameter, knows that Brittany, as much as she has touched her has surely not failed to notice her diminished size in the touching. She lets several moments pass, conflicted, tears heavy in her chest, before she says shakily, "Please don't be mad at me. I know how I look, I know it's ugly and gross. Please don't be disappointed in me…please."

Sucking in an uneven breath, she stepped back, opening the door enough for their to be space for Brittany to come into the bathroom behind her. Then with slow, trembling hands and slightly quivering lips, she begins to remove her clothing. When she is down to her underwear, she dares to look up, vulnerable, her skin rippling with goosebumps from nerves as much as cold. She searches Brittany's face with anxiety and trepidation, dreading her response.

Nearly naked, it painfully clear just how thin she is, her collar bones prominent, chest bones and ribs visible with her breaths. Santana's arms and legs look almost like a child's, lacking their usual slimly defined muscle. Her hip bones stick out sharply and her augmented breasts look strange and out of proportion now to the rest of her body's size, though even they have lost some of their fullness. She has lost at least fifteen pounds she did not need to and could not afford to.

Brittany was fully prepared for Santana to say no. She was prepared to not let her expression drop when Santana shook her head no and was prepared to let Santana slip into the bathroom alone, rejoining her a few minutes later. She wouldn't mind, Brittany reminded herself. She'd pushed Santana so much in the past 24 hours, she wouldn't be surprised if Santana pushed back a little, needing space and room to get comfortable with certain things. Silence passed between them for such a dragging amount of time that Brittany was about to open her mouth and back pedal, smooth over her question and pretend like she didn't ask it, but just as she was about to say something, Santana spoke first.

The words were thick and tear clogged, the saddest words that Brittany had ever heard, each one of Santana's pleas sending a pang of sadness through her heart. She wasn't sure what was worse, the fact that Santana believed those things about herself or the fact that she believed Brittany could ever think those things about her. "S-Santana, you know I could never." She said softly, her voice stuttering. "You're not - I'd never be disappointed in you," Brittany promised, the gravity of the situation striking her. Santana thought so negatively of her body, but she was willing to let Brittany in anyway.

She could hear her blood rushing in her ears as she stepped into the bathroom behind Santana, gently clicking the door shut even though they were the only ones home. Brittany felt nervous, even though she wasn't the one undressing, instead sitting on the toilet lid, patient. It occurred to her that this was the first time she would be seeing Santana's body in two years, and she mentally prepared herself for it, knowing Santana had lost a drastic amount of weight.

As Santana undressed, her weight loss was even more extreme that Brittany thought and she could feel the prickle of sadness in her throat. She wanted, so badly for Santana to be able to eat and feel good after a meal and have energy and feel strong, not fight through the war she was currently going through with eating.

When she was down to just her underwear, Brittany took her hand, waiting until she was standing in front of her, waiting until she made eye contact with her. She could see the anxiety and fear in Santana's face and instantly wanted to calm her. "You're as beautiful as you've always been," She hummed, "But we need to figure this out," Brittany admitted softly, wanting Santana to know that Brittany didn't think any less of her, but that this path wasn't something that Santana could keep going down.

Still, the woman standing in front of her was Santana, her Santana, and the pull she felt towards her was magnetic. Slowly, Brittany brought her hand up and rested it on Santana's side, touching her bare skin for the first time, feeling the goosebumps on her skin. "I'm going to touch you," She started out, her voice low, "And you're going to tell me when you don't like it or when you want me to stop, okay?" Brittany said softly, holding Santana's eyes."Because you're in control of your body, right?"

Santana held her breath without quite realizing it as she waited for Brittany's reaction to her. She can see the sadness in her eyes as Brittany regards her, but she also sees, as Brittany has promised, no judgment or anger, no repulsion or desire to pull back. There is only love and concern in her voice, only a desire to soothe and help.

She watches Brittany's hand drift up to press against the skin of her bare side, the touch gentle and yet with slight pressure. Santana shivered, her hand moving automatically to push Brittany's away, to draw forth some separation and defense again. But as Brittany gently keeps her hand against her skin, explaining what she is doing, explaining that she will listen to any asking for her to stop, it wears away Santana's anxious need to reestablish control. Brittany has reassured her that she has control, that she will honor and respect her need for it, and this simple validation brings the tears blocking Santana's throat up to stand brimming to her eyes.

You're as beautiful as you've ever been. Brittany had said this with sincerity, and Brittany did not lie to her. She was in control. So much of Santana's life felt so beyond her control, from her thoughts to her feelings to the possible threats to herself from others. She needed so much to feel control; it was what had driven her to prescribe so strongly to thinness and what it took to maintain it in the past. It was most of what drove her now. But Brittany was reassuring her she was in control, and she believed her.

With quick, shallow breaths Santana let Brittany stroke her bare side. She was so damn tired of crying; it felt to her like that was all she ever seemed to do anymore, a piece of herself she was not in control of and therefore resented and fought to suppress when possible. But the tears she shed with Brittany seemed different than those in the weeks before. They felt cleaner, somehow, as though they were clearing out and beginning to rub smooth parts of Santana that were badly in need of release.

She kept slowly leaking eyes on Brittany, watching, letting herself trust. Letting Brittany prove with a touch of her hand her continued pride in Santana, her acceptance of her and her body.

Brittany kept her hand still against Santana's bare skin, feeling her ribcage expand under her palm as she sucked in breaths, processing what Brittany was saying, realizing the power that Brittany was handing her willingly. She kept still until she watched the tension between Santana's eyebrows relax just a little, until she was certain that Santana really would stop her if she wanted her. It was only then that Brittany moved her hand, slipping down Santana's side to let her fingertips brush over Santana's hip bone, jutting over the hem of her underwear. She dragged her fingertips across the flat plane under her navel, brushing across her other hip bone, taking her time stroking Santana's skin with feather light touches, marveling in the tragic beauty of Santana's body, marveling at the level of control Santana was placing in her.

She glanced up to make eye contact with Santana frequently, making sure her eyes were still open, focused on Brittany and not letting herself get lost somewhere in her own mind. She saw that she was crying, but she wasn't scared, Santana's tears weren't upsetting and they weren't making her breathing jerky or frantic, Brittany assumed Santana was crying just because she needed to get it out, just because they were being so intimate. Santana was shivering under Brittany's fingertips, but she knew it wasn't from fear and didn't pull her hand away.

"Tell me," Brittny said softly, glancing up at Santana through her eyelashes where she sat, "Tell me that you're in control and that I'm only touching your body because you're letting me." She hummed, wanting Santana to repeat what she'd just promised, for her to say if for herself.

Slowly, Brittany rose from her seated position, standing up in front of Santana, their bodies inches apart. She let her hand drag up the length of Santana's torso, from under her navel straight up, between her breasts until she veered left, her fingertips skating across Santana's prominent collar bone before cutting back across, dusting across the opposite collar bone. Aside from when she'd just spoken, they were silent, the only sound in the bathroom was their breathing as they both sucked in long, deep breaths.

Keeping her hand where it was, she ventured further, tracing it across Santana's shoulder as she moved from in front of her to walk around her so that she now stood behind her, both of them visible in the mirror that hung above the bathroom sink, Brittany standing behind Santana's shoulder. Her fingertips half brushed all the way around Santana's shoulder at that point and now they danced across her back gently, down each of her shoulder blades and then up the length of her spine, her fingers stumbling over each vertebrae. Gently, she gathered Santana's hair, pushing it over Santana's right shoulder before she stepped closer, molding her entire body against Santana's from behind, one arm coming to wrap around her chest and the other around her waist, Brittany's chin resting on her left shoulder. "Hi," She breathed out, meeting Santana's teary reflection in the mirror. Her voice was so quiet, it was as if speaking to loud would ruin the magic of the moment they'd created.

Santana's body tingled under Brittany's light, loving touch, as though coming alive with better, happier skin memory, awakening her to faint pleasure. She breathes, slightly unsteady but not hyperventilating or upset, her body's shivering slowing as she warmed under Brittany's hand.

When Brittany's hand skates over the hem of her underwear, Santana sucked in a breath, a faint thrill of pleasure rolling low in her abdomen and settling lower still. She had thought that any physical or sexual pleasure or arousal at being touched was gone, forever ruined for her, but Brittany has just shown her that this is just asleep, hybernating rather than dead. She swallowed thickly when Brittany continued to check in on her, making sure she is grounded in the present, that she knows she is in control, tears streaming as she nods, her voice cracked with emotion as she repeats Brittany's all too important and powerful words.

"I…I'm in control," she whispered, her eyes on Brittany's, her body canting towards her, further shifting to lean into her touch, like a flower turning it's face towards the sun. "I'm… you're touching me because I let you. I'm in control," she whispers again, several more tears falling, but she takes another breath, speaking more steadily, with more strength in the tone. "I'm in control."

As Brittany continued to trace the outline of her body, seeming determined to physically press love and acceptance into every inch, Santana feels like she is beginning to override the terrible skin memories of everywhere her attacker had touched, letting her body remember what it is to be handled with love and care instead of harsh, punishing degradation and abuse. Her skin is singing with slowly growing enjoyment and need for continued care, and although Santana is still shaking, when Brittany comes behind her and wraps herself around her, cloaking Santana in her warmth, she slowly calms to the occasional shiver rather than consistent trembling. She looks into their reflection in the mirror for the first time without immediate judgment and hatred of what she sees of herself as she covers Brittany's arms with cold hands embracing her back.

"Hi," she whispered back. It feels like she's talking to herself as much as to Brittany, acknowledging and taking a step towards beginning to accept her reflection and her body.

Brittany smiled softly when Santana repeated her sentiment, nodding her head as her hands continued to trace. "That's right," She confirmed for her, still shocked Santana was letting her drag her hands across her skin, mapping out her torso, letting Brittany brush her fingertips against both the harsh angles and smooth edges of Santana's body, as if she could draw the pain right out of Santana's skin, pull all the sorrow from her body with just her touch.

She held Santana there, patiently, holding her gaze in the mirror until the nervous thrumming of Santana's body had calmed, mostly relaxed and still as Brittany molded herself against her, her chin resting gently on Santana's shoulder, her own blonde hair spilling over Santana's shoulder. Despite the fact that they were both still now, calmer, both getting used to the feeling of trust and sacrality, their hearts were both beating wildly, dizzy at being so close together after so long.

If things had been different, Brittany would've turned her head and kissed the side of Santana's neck, sucking against her pulse point until Santana made that breathy sound she always made when Brittany kissed her neck. If things were different, Brittany had no doubt that her clothes would've ended up on the bathroom floor beside Santana's minutes later. But things were very, very different, and so Brittany moved gently, slowly, turning her head in toward Santana's neck, her eyelashes fluttering closed against Santana's jaw, her arms still securely around her. She was keenly aware, in that moment, she was the only person in the world that had the privilege of touching Santana's skin, of seeing her so bare.

Her head turned, she exhaled, feeling Santana shudder at the feeling of Brittany's breath across her collar bone. Her mouth was so close to Santana's neck, but Brittany didn't press her lips there, she only whispered, softly, right underneath Santana's ear.

"This isn't the same body that was hurt," She promised, humming. If it were up to Brittany, she would've stayed there with Santana pressed against her front all day. "Not anymore. This is your body," Brittany breathed against her neck, her fingertips stroking Santana's side where her hand rested around her. "No one has ever touched you before except me, right now." She promised.

She knew it wasn't true, but she wanted so badly for Santana to feel like new, to feel untouched and clean and perfect, things she'd always been to Brittany. "Just yours," She breathed softly, her eyes fluttering open. Instead of turning to meet Santana's eyes in the mirror, she lifted her head from her shoulder, body still pressed against her, letting her hand trail up the side of Santana's body until her fingertips rested on Santana's jaw, turning her head so that they were looking at each other, their faces mere inches apart.

A strong shiver rolls up Santana's spine as Brittany murmurs into her, her words warning her skin and raising the tiny hairs of her neck. She shudders with a second, longer lasting flaring of arousal at the woman's hand stroking her sides, at the barely there brush of her lips against the sensitive curve of her ear. Her heart galloped in response to every small touch, every slight shift of Brittany's body against hers, every murmur that tickled her skin. Brittany is not undressesd, but Santana can feel the defined cut of her abdomen beneath her clothing, the strength of her thighs against her backside, of her hands, so careful and deliberate in their caresses.

She is breathing faster, almost panting, tears gone now as she expects, anticipates, prays for a moment that she is about to be kissed. She is only briefly disappointed when Brittany refrains, because the power of her declaration sinks in and causes her to go still, hoping desperately that it could be true. To have a new, untouched body, a body that had never been hurt or betrayed, a body all hers, fully in control. She had changed the form of her body, making it take less mass in the world; was that enough to make Brittany right? Could she really think of her body as brand new?

Could she really try to mentally erase and write over what had happened, to make Brittany's hand the only one to touch her, to make her body nothing but cherished and respected?

She didn't know, but she wanted, she hoped. God did she hope.

She shivered again as Brittany stroked her face, turning her chin to face her. Looking into Brittany's gorgeous blue eyes, Santana saw her own desire reflected back at her. Could Brittany really want her, like this, after what she knew? Could she really think of Santana's body as not ruined and dirty, but new and beautiful and worthy of her hands, her arms…maybe even her lips?

Brittany was surprised to see desire in Santana's eyes. She hadn't expected it not after everything that happened, but it was a look that Brittany knew far, far too well to confuse with anything else. Santana's cheeks still glistened with the tears that had so recently rolled down them, but she wasn't crying now, she was holding Brittany's gaze, open and trusting and wanting and it was all Brittany could to to hold herself back from kissing her, from sliding her tongue across her bottom lip and showing her how much she deserved to be safe, loved, cherished.

She also saw the hint of questioning in her eyes, Santana processing what Brittany had just said and weighing if it was something she could really believe. Gently, Brittany nodded her head, her fingers still against Santana's jaw, trying to convince her that yes, all of it could be peeled away, all of the sadness and abuse and trauma. To have a body that was whole and untouched and treated with nothing except the softest of hands, always, Brittany's hands.

She moved her hand gently, skating her fingertips up to cup Santana's face in her hand, the other arm still wrapped securely around her. With her thumb, she stroked Santana's hairline softly, tilting her own head forward to press her forehead against Santana's, both of them breathing slowly, deeply, intoxicated at their proximity, at how their bodies were touching all over.

"This is your body," She repeated in a voice barely above a whisper. "And you deserve to feel good about it and you need to take care of it," Brittany reminded her gently. "you deserve to take up space, you're not beautiful because you're small, Santana," She hummed, their faces so close their noses brushed. "You're beautiful because you just are, but I'm scared that you're doing this," Brittany admitted quietly.

One of Santana's weaknesses is having her hair played with and Brittany knows it. After four years of continually having it up in ponytails tight enough to give her headaches and thin out parts of her hair, Santana loved having it loose, having someone- having Brittany- stroke their fingers through it, scratching their nails across her scalp. It is both calming and arousing, depending on her mood, and right now it is both simultaneously.

Santana swallows thickly as Brittany lowers her forehead to hers, their noses touching softly. She can hear Brittany breathing, can feel the rise and fall of her chest against her own, and she feels for once safe in her own skin and warm and alive with complex, vivid feeling for the other woman all at once. She feels so much, but she doesn't miss Brittany's words, weighted with meaning and sincerity.

Brittany still thinks she's beautiful. Brittany still touches her just as she had before. Brittany still looks at her the way she did before, even after everything, even after the harm Santana herself has inflicted on herself.

You deserve to take up space. So much of Santana's life had been alternating between fighting to take up space others tried to define it take away from her, and trying to take up as little space as possible. But Brittany was looking her in the eyes and telling her with such sincerity that she deserved it. Santana could almost believe her now. She knew she at least wanted to believe her.

"I don't know how to stop," she whispered. "I'm scared to stop."

Brittany would've loved to hold Santana there forever, pressed against her back, her arm around Santana's chest protectively, Santana's head turned, their foreheads pressed together. It seemed almost too good, too perfect of a moment to be real, a moment of calm in the chaos of everything they were up against. But it was real because Santana agreed to let her in, to let her touch her and for them to speak more candidly to each other than they had in years.

Santana's confession was so raw, so honest, so true that she felt a wave of emotion at how much Santana had shared with her that day, so much more than Brittany had ever expected. Rachel and Kurt underestimated Santana, she realized, and she had too, thinking there were things Santana wasn't capable of sharing or doing, thinking they were so far away from being okay. But she'd been wrong. Underneath it all Santana was still the fighter she'd always known, the fighter she'd always loved.

"It's not scary," Brittany promised, moving her hand to thread through the hair at the back of Santana's skull, her thumb rubbing love into the hollow underneath Santana's ear. "All you have to do," She paused, their noses still brushing, "Is exactly what you're doing right now," Brittany continued in a breathy voice, "Listen to your body." She finished. She knew Santana was listening to her body in that moment more than she had in a long time, the way she was letting Brittany touch her and responding and listening to her body tell her what felt good when Brittany touched her. "Your body, not your mind," Brittany hummed, smiling a little. They both knew Santana's mind was always louder than it should've been, the self doubt always so, so loud, Santana unable to escape it, Brittany always coaxing her to just follow what her own body wanted. "And you'll gain a little bit of weight," Brittany said, not shying away from the topic, "And you'll just pay attention to your body and nothing bad will happen and I'll still hold you just like this," She promised, the weight of the entire universe hanging on her words.

Santana shivered softly as Brittany rubbed just under her ear, pleasure at the touch curling through her, warming her inside. She listened to Brittany's encouragement, trying for just a few moments to listen to her body. It is definitely telling her now that she enjoys being touched, that she craves it, needs it. It is telling her that she's safe, she's protected, she's loved. It's telling her that she's turned on, damn it, although Brittany doesn't seem to want to cross that line, and Santana still feels too uncertain and shy of what exactly they are, what they are doing, to initiate.

And if she admits it to herself, her body is telling her she is hungry. That it has been for a long time.

She exhaled a little unevenly, then turned her face against Brittany's so they are cheek to cheek and she doesn't have to look her in the eye anymore.

"But something bad could happen. You don't know that it won't. It already did. And…it was because of how I looked," she mumbled, forcing herself to push just a little more past the unfurling anxiety she feels to talk about it. She is tense, grasping Brittany hard as she tries to explain. "He was, he was attracted to me, he hit on me. And I didn't, I wasn't, I was," she stammered before closing her eyes, trying again as her nails dug into Brittany's side. "He wouldn't have been if I looked like this. It can't happen again if I look like this."

Brittany welcomed the contact as Santana folded into her body, sliding both arms to wrap around, her hand against her bare back. Cheek to cheek with her, she twirled the ends of Santana's hair around her fingertips, feeling her shuddering exhale. Santana turned her body against hers seeking out more comfort and Brittany was all to happy to give it to her, holding her close and secure against her own body, waiting for her to speak.

She felt herself deflate a little when Santana confessed, gently pushing back on Brittany's optimism. Brittany couldn't blame her - she was right, something awful had happened and it just so happened that the monster behind it hit on her, a fact that Brittany only was hearing for the first time as Santana confessed, feeling her nails clutching at Brittany ever tighter. "Shhhhh," Brittany mumbled softly, letting her hand rub down the length of her spine and back up, waiting until Santana had calmed enough for her to keep speaking, letting her finish and explain her logic for choosing to shrink herself.

It was heartbreaking, how people had always pegged Santana for a slut in high school, the rumors that she'd sleep with anyone, that she was easy, even though Santana had only ever given her heart to one person. Brittany, for what it was worth, had also slept with the entire football team and maybe even more people than Santana but because Santana was snappier, sassier, she always seemed to get the worst of the rumors. Brittany hated that all of that had followed her, even now, twisting her mind to think it was her own fault, that she deserved it because he was attracted to her.

"That's not true, Santana." She said softly, listening to her with her entire body for any changes in breathing or tension throughout her limbs. "He was attracted to you, okay, but that doesn't mean anything. He did what he did because he was sick and a monster and all the reasons this happened to you were because of him, not because of you." Brittany explained gently. "Tons of people have been attracted to you before, and none of them chose to hurt you because of it. People don't do things like that because they're attracted to someone or not. They're just horrible people." She pointed out, swallowing hard. "I'm attracted to you, but I'd never hurt you." Brittany confessed, her heart beat stampeding in her ribcage, confessing, for the first time since they saw each other, that she was still attracted to the woman pressed against her body.

Santana's breathing is growing erratic as she finishes speaking, her heart hammering, but she gathers herself more quickly than she is accustomed to as Brittany rubs her back, stroking calm into her bare skin. She is still somewhat shaken by speaking a few more details, bare as they are, but Brittany's proximity and steady comfort keep her mind from fully flashing back. She's too present, oriented in now with Brittany.

She listens to Brittany and doesn't argue, but she doubts her, and sadness sharpens the angles of her face, her eyes appearing shadowed, almost bruised. She has to believe right now what her mind tells her. It's the only way she can make sense of her life. Having fault in what happened makes her feel just a tiny bit more in control.

Because not everyone who's attracted to her chooses to hurt her, but one had, and more could. That's what Brittany doesn't understand.

When Brittany drops her bombshell, Santana thinks at first she misheard her. Surely Brittany had said she WAS attracted to her, not is. She knows Brittany loves her, but she hadn't thought it possible that she could love her as more than her friend and her ex. Not after all this time, and certainly not now, as she is. But when she replays what she heard mentally and feels Brittany's heart begin to pound against her own, she pulls back a little, wanting to see her more fully, her brow furrowing with genuine perplexity.

"You're…you're attracted to me? Still? Attracted to me, now?"

She took a deep breath, trying to temper her own hope, to brace herself not to be let down. "But, like, just because you always are. Being attracted doesn't mean you want to get back with me again or anything."

Does it?

Brittany felt each emotion physically as Santana cycled through her feelings - she felt the nervous panic that often accompanied any details Santana was revealing about the event and also felt the way she relaxed afterwards, grounded by the way she held onto Brittany and Brittany held her against her body. She hadn't thought much about what she was saying. They'd been toeing the line since Brittany had arrived there, with her wanting to respect Santana's privacy and trauma and not wanting to fall back into things too quickly without talking about their past and their brokenness.

But what Santana was saying was so twisted, so convoluted within her trauma that was so far from the truth that Brittany wanted her to know that she was attracted to her. It was important to her that she knew, not sure if it would make a difference or not, but desperately wanting her to know that the way her body looked at nothing to do with it.

She kept her face passive when Santana pulled back to look at her, seeing confusion etched into Santana's sunken features, bewildered at the idea that Brittany was attracted to her even now. Faintly, but then with more conviction, Brittany nodded her head.

"Of course I'm attracted to you," Brittany said softly, a blush creeping across the bridge of her nose. "I'll always be attracted to you, regardless of what you look like." She said. Regardless if Santana was skinnier or curvier or older or younger or fighting through an ocean of trauma, nothing could've intercepted the gravitational pull that Brittany felt towards Santana. She loved her body, of course, but what intoxicated her was her mind, was her heart.

Brittany smiled a sad smile when Santana continued speaking, brushing her fingertips against the back of her cheek. "I do want to be with you," She confessed, the weight of her words making her stomach drop, the gravity of them making Brittany's head spin. "But I want to make sure you're okay again." Brittany confessed. "I don't want you to confuse healing and being with me because those are two different things," She whispered. "You can heal and be okay again without being with me, and I don't want you to have to feel like you need me all the time. I want you go grow strong, like a flower," Brittany giggled. "I-I don't know where we'll go from here but I…I just know I'll be here. So we can figure it out as we go, right?" She smiled, her fingertips tracing the edges of Santana's face, similar to how she's just traced her body. Dragging her finger down the slope of Santana's nose, she added. "I'm here, so we have all the time in the world,"

Santana isn't sure what to feel. She wants to light up with joy with Brittany's words, at the sheer incredibility that she could still want her, want to be with her. She wants to throw herself at her and never let go again. But at the same time, she feels her chest hollow with disappointment.

So Brittany wants to be with her, is attracted to her…but won't be with her? And because of what happened, because she's screwed in the head? Because she has to be "better" first?

Santana hears her own insecurity more than Brittany's words at first. Then she does hear, but doesn't want to understand. She sulks, whining a little but with a genuine edge of anxiety.

"But I'm not okay without you. And…and I want to be with you now. Can't I get okay with you?"

"I know, I know" Brittany hummed gently, her hands still looped around Santana's waist, their abdomens pressed together. "And I'm here and I'll help you. You are getting okay with me now, I just don't want to rush you or hurt you by us thinking you're ready for something that you're not." Brittany said, her voice lullaby soft. "I'm not going anywhere and I need you to believe that. I don't want you to rush into this with me because you're afraid I'll be gone one day."

Brittany knew, even if Santana started to believe her that day that there was still a little sliver of doubt in her - a small piece of Santana that was so afraid to get her hopes up.

She continued, knowing she probably wouldn't be able to convince Santana in that moment but also knowing moving way too fast would only hurt their relationship in the future and, most importantly, Santana. "We have all the time to talk about it, and I want to talk about tour, and us and all the things that have happened," Brittany explained.

Santana was always so impatient with herself, rushing the way she felt, rushing to cover up her emotions after they happened - it was Brittany who pulled her back, Brittany who hung in the balance with her, giving her space to speak and feel and be without moving onto the next thing.

"I don't want you to think you're beautiful and attractive and worth staying for just because I think so," Brittany explained, catching the edge of anxiety that cut under Santana's voice. "Because I do think all of those things about you, but I want you to know them not because of me but because they're true," She nodded, letting her hand skate along the small of Santana's back.

Santana knew Brittany enough to know when Brittany could not be convinced otherwise on something. She knew that although most people thought Santana was the far more stubborn one, Brittany could be equally so if not more so at times. Santana still did not agree or even really believe she could "get stronger" on her own without Brittany, and she didn't see how it was possible to be hurt by being Brittany's girlfriend again officially if Brittany really meant it that she was going to be there for her and not leave. She didn't want to wait and take her time and boy did she not want to talk. She wanted everything to just be better, now, immediately, and being with Brittany seemed the way to do it. Hasn't she felt better with her since she's come to New York?

She is still scowling a little without quite realizing it, accepting reluctantly but not liking one Brittany's terms or reasoning. She pulls away, feeling now that she's been pushed about to her limit with talking feeling and encouraging and "being strong" for today.

"I'm going to shower now. You don't have to stay in here if you don't want to."

She totally does want Brittany to. She's actually pretty afraid that Brittany might call that bluff, because then she would have to back down and admit she can't.

Brittany knew Santana didn't like what she was saying, but held her ground, as much as she wanted to just call Santana her girlfriend and kiss her right then and there. She knew if they didn't talk about things the little fears and worries would stay there, under the surface until they became too hard to ignore and tumbled out in the middle of an argument. They used to not talk about things back in high school, trying to move on without discussing hard things like feelings, but all it did was push them further apart and make them feel more alone and Brittany didn't want that now, not when she'd only just gotten Santana back.

She let Santana step out of her arms, reluctantly, knowing the whole reason she came in the bathroom was to let Santana shower but instantly wanting to reach out and touch her naked skin again. Sighing lightly, Brittany raised her eyebrows at Santana's comment. She wanted to roll her eyes and reach for the door as if she really would leave but she didn't, knowing Santana wasn't snapping at her on purpose, knowing they'd done a lot of talking about vulnerable topics and knowing Santana had had a rough morning at the coffee shop seeing the man in the hat.

Brittany knew that if she'd reached for the door, Santana would've stopped her but instead, she just dropped back in her seat, crossing one leg over the other. "I think I'll stay, actually," She said softly, neutrally, knowing without having to ask that Santana wouldn't be able to shower if she was alone in there, not with the emotions and memories of that night so close to the surface after they just spoke about it. She didn't want to bicker with her and leave the room only to upset her and so she stayed put, doing as she promised she would and being there for Santana, feeling bad for upsetting her and not giving in to what she wanted but knowing it was better for the both of them.

Santana looked over her shoulder at her quickly, wanting to be sure she really was staying to reassure herself, but also not wanting Brittany to see that she was looking. Of course she knew Brittany had to notice and had to know that she wanted her to, but she'd like to pretend otherwise, even if she knows better.

"Whatever, if you want, I guess."

She stepped into the shower and turned it on, making the water as scathingly hot as usual. After she's finished, she feels slightly better, but is still a little subdued. "What time is it? My class is at 2."

Brittany caught Santana's look but didn't comment on it, knowing that she was moody only because Brittany hadn't caved in, as much as she'd been tempted. When Santana spoke again Brittany grinned from the other side of the shower curtain where she couldn't see her.

"Am I allowed to stay?" She asked, grinning, knowing the answer would be yes. As she sat, she marveled at everything they'd just talked about, everything Santana had let her do, how intimate they'd been, her heart fluttering against her ribs at the revelation that Santana really did want to be in a relationship with her, even after everything.

"It's almost one," Brittany piped up over the water, checking her phone for nearly the first time today, responding to text messages she'd been ignoring, too wrapped up in Santana. She perked up a bit though, Santana going to class was a good sign and Brittany was already looking forward to picking her up again, remembering her happy and shocked face from last time and feeling a little thrill.

When she heard the water turn off she smiled, waiting for Santana to step out of the shower, already wrapped in a towel. They made eye contact for a moment before Santana faced the mirror, reaching for her leave in conditioner when Brittany stopped her, one hand on her arm.

"I want to," She said, tilting her chin toward the bottle. She smiled triumphantly when Santana handed it over, gently depositing a small amount of leave in conditioner in her palm before taking her place behind Santana, occupying the same spot she just had, this time, lovingly finger combing the lotion through her hair. It was something she'd done almost every day when they were together, taking on the role of brushing Santana's wavy hair after a shower.

"Hmph,"Santana grumbled from behind the curtain. "I guess so." Like she'd have it any other way.

As Brittany stops her, encouraging her to let her do her hair for her, Santana softens, almost purring under Brittany's administrations. She arches her neck a little and closes her eyes, soaking it up. "I missed this," she she said softly as Brittany began to comb through her hair. "I missed you."

She feels thawed enough to say that now. Dammit, it is far too easy for Brittany to get her saying things, and Santana swears she knows that.