Title: Locksmith
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 14k
Summary: Even now, after ten years together, you still aren't in the right place and it's like you can never fit right together for too long before one of you shifts and it happens again.
Notes: This is officially the last chapter! Just an epilogue to go, but it sucks because I want to write more about their past! Might do another chapter of just pure memories! What do you guys think?
/
Despite having arrived at the chapel together, your friends split you and Brittany up so you can take your turns in walking down the aisle.
Quinn, Kurt, and Rachel take you into a room in the side, and Sugar, Sam, and the rest of them take Brittany into another and you stare into a small mirror on the wall, trying to calm yourself. You don't know why you're so nervous as this is everything you've ever wanted, everything you've ever dreamed of, but it feels too good to be true. You think that's probably why you feel the way you do as this weekend started so differently to how it's ending and part of you genuinely believes you might wake up and find out this has been an elaborate dream.
But it's not, and you only know that when Quinn comes up next to you, smiling at you in the reflection with pride in her eyes. "Rachel's spoken to the minister, and we're good to go when you are."
You suck in a deep, shaky breath and nod your head. You're going to walk down the aisle first as you swear if you see Brittany up there before you, you'll probably stumble over your own feet and make a total ass of yourself, and Rachel disappeared a few seconds ago to tell the others and check it's okay with Brittany. You're guessing it is seeing as Quinn's here now and that just makes your body sparks even more with nerves.
"Okay, okay," you hush and it's mostly to yourself, but your friend sees that and sets a hand, low on your back.
"You don't need to be nervous," she tries, and you know that, but you are. "We've all been waiting for this, you know."
You laugh through your nose and spin around, straightening your posture, smoothing your palms down the front of your dress. "I know, and so have I," you retort and chew on your bottom lip. "That's why I am though… It just doesn't seem real."
Quinn seems to get it, sucking her lips into her mouth and reaching out to adjust your hair around your shoulders, and out the corner of your eye you see Rachel step back into the room and give you a nod of her head, like she's confirming what the blonde just said to you and that Brittany's agreed to go second down the aisle. Which, you're fucking happy about as you were serious. One look from her and you'll probably pass out.
"Happily ever after never does seem real at first," Quinn continues and your vision flits back to her.
You don't know how she knows that, seeing as she didn't get hers with Puck – for which you're glad – but you guess she's finding it in Sam. Or Rachel, you're still not really sure what's going on there, but either way… Quinn is looking at you and backing up her words, like she's been sat on the edge of her seat for years waiting for this wedding, and you can't help but think of how grateful you are for her existence as Rachel slips out of the room again, leaving you two alone.
"God… don't get sappy on me," you shoot back, as this moment is way too serious for you two, but hazel eyes roll, and Quinn drops her hands away from your face and grins.
"You're one to talk," she fires back with a raised brow, but you laugh throatily and let out a short breath, preparing yourself but as much as you want to get out there and get your forever made legal, you also want to do something else.
"Shut up," you hiss but it's playful and Quinn smirks, the pride very much so in her eyes. "But thank you," you continue through a whisper and hazel eyes narrow. "For always supporting me and Britt," you elaborate, and Quinn drops her eyes from you to the floor, smiling bashfully and you know she doesn't do this sappy crap – neither do you – but you have to get this out here. "I-I don't think we would've got here if it wasn't for you always butting your nose into our business," you swallow and you know it's a moment of vulnerability, but what Quinn said is true.
You are a total sap and she's seen it time and time again. Shit, everyone has been waiting for this, and you have been too.
After years of going through drama, manoeuvring around hurdles and obstacles you never expected to be there, you're finally within touching distance of getting something that once seemed like a dream, and had it not been for Quinn, you might not have even got here. She's been with you the entire way, siding with you during the break up and constantly reminding you that the relationship was worth fighting for, even when you couldn't see it for yourself.
She's always been your best friend, and affection rises strongly in your chest as you think about the past and how many memories contain her interventions. Even her freaking daughter has been there too, when she became old enough to get involved by choice, giving you strong advice and half of you wishes Beth were here, but you know you have time for that when you get back.
This ceremony is just a formality, to get your names on that bit of paper and tell everyone that you belong to each other, but the celebration can come when you fly back home with all your other loved ones.
So, as you hear Rachel call both your names from the hallway a little impatiently, you open your arms and urge Quinn into a hug, feeling her freeze at the gesture. You two don't do this type of shit, but you need her to know how grateful you are for her existence. You can't remember a time where she didn't help you, didn't want to support you and be a best friend when you had no-one else, and it seems she gets that as she hugs you back for a long moment before pulling back, hands grasping at your biceps and eyes staring deeply into yours.
"You don't need to thank me," she whispers, and you can tell she's getting choked up by the gloss in hazel eyes. "But you do need to get your ass out there."
You grin and giggle, holding back the urge to cry as you'll totally ruin your make-up and bob your head. "Let's go, bitch," you say and let out a short huff, trying to ignore the electricity in your veins making you quake from fear and excitement.
Quinn just grins and takes a step back, sweeping her arm out to gesture for you to go ahead.
You love her.
/
Six Years Ago
Your baby son had just been born.
Brittany went into labour in the early hours of the morning, and your son following in his mama's footsteps, was a stubborn little bastard. It took him a full 22 hours before he chose he wanted to show the signs of coming out properly and you sat next to Brittany's side the entire time, holding her hand, and forgiving her for borderline breaking your fingers as she went through the contractions as what she was about to do was give the gift of life.
There was literally nothing you could do in comparison, so for those 22 hours, you were right there, only leaving for a few necessary minutes to use the restroom before returning to the seat that had the shape of your ass imprinted on it by hour six.
But then just as Brittany was about to be induced, your son chose that he wanted to rush out and before you could register what was going on, you were being moved into the delivery room, being changed into scrubs, watching a flurry of nurses and doctors rushing around you and then your son was being brought into the world with a high pitched scream from both him and his mother.
He was born at 3.05pm, on Saturday 17th August. He weighed seven pounds and measured nineteen inches tall and had the cutest tuft of curly black hair on his head. He was pulled away from you and Brittany too quickly, just to be cleaned and checked over before Brittany took him from the nurse shortly after, and you melted against her side on the bed, both of you sobbing as you drank in the sight of your baby boy, crying in her arms.
Time went too quickly, and Brittany had to be seen to, so you reluctantly left after several nurses made you, getting back into your normal clothes, and headed straight into the waiting room, floods of tears still streaming down your cheeks. Quinn, Beth, Sugar, and Brittany's parents were there, and yours were on the way, and you would've been shocked that they were still waiting after almost a whole day of waiting, but you weren't.
You were too caught up in a daze because you were a mother. You had a son, and you and Brittany were a family.
Anyway, you choked out that it was a boy, and everyone hugged you until the nurses called for you to go back in a while after, saying that Brittany was with your son. You let everyone go first, as you wandered in behind and watched adoringly at everyone fall in love with your son, and then Brittany was dropping off to sleep, exhausted and as much as you didn't want to let that moment go, you knew she needed her rest.
You ushered all your friends and family off, kissing them on the cheek and receiving congratulations, and by the time you got back to Brittany's room, she was fast asleep with your son in a cot nearby. There was a nurse tending to him, and you gave her a smile before she dipped her head and quickly made her way out, leaving you alone with your new family member.
He was the best thing you'd ever seen, bar Brittany. He already had several of her features, and yours, and you stared for what felt like forever before someone cleared their throat and you span around, finding Quinn at the door. You thought she'd left, so you narrowed your eyes and then another smaller blonde appeared next to her. Beth was still here, too, and you put your finger to your lips as you wandered over to them, expression quizzical as you cast a final glance at the sleeping form of your girlfriend.
"Why are you guys still here?" You whispered and stepped out into the hallway, watching as Beth didn't stop gazing into the room at the small cot next to Brittany's bed which entirely distracted you from getting an answer. Beth was 11 years old, going on thirty with that attitude, but you loved her like a little sister, and you knew she felt like your baby son was her brother as you were a dysfunctional non-blood related family, so you just squeezed her shoulder, winked at her and she grinned widely as you dropped into a crouch. "You wanna see him properly?"
Beth jumped in her spot, nodding rapidly and you let out a quiet laugh, checking up with her mom which Quinn smiled to, her eyes filled with sleep and pushed her daughter in the room. The little girl didn't hesitate any further, just ran into the room, scurrying towards the cot before peering over into it and staring. She didn't say anything, and so you turned your attention back to Quinn, hoping she would remember your question and she did.
"Beth wanted some alone time with him," she explained and folded her arms over her chest, vision flitting over your shoulder. "Said he needed to meet his auntie officially and that can only happen when she's by herself," she laughed, and you grinned sleepily. "And I wanted to check in on you."
Your heart swelled with affection and as much as you wanted to tease her for being all sappy and caring and crap, you were way too vulnerable and tired to do it. She was your best friend, had proved it time and time again and you did really appreciate her. So instead, you just rolled your eyes playfully, kicking your foot out to nudge her calf and she barked out a loud laughter, pushing at your shoulder in return as she rolled her own eyes.
"Thanks," you said anyway and let out a long exhale when Quinn continued laughing, peering over your shoulder back into the room. "It hasn't really sank in yet," you admitted and glanced back at her as she hummed in acknowledgement, like she knew what you meant. "When does that happen?"
Quinn inhaled deeply, taking a step around you until you were both in the doorway, leaning against a side each and eying the three people in the room. "I mean, my experience was different from yours," she shrugged, and you slid your eyes to her. "Puck wasn't even there, and neither were my parents as Beth came out super quick," she breathed and you kind of hated that you didn't know her when Beth was born. You would've been there, like she had been for you. "So it sank in pretty quickly as it was just me and her, but I already knew her name and that helped speed things up, so."
Something clicked in your head; the reminder that you and Brittany hadn't landed on a name for your son yet. You hadn't quite got to that part of the process, and it wasn't like you hadn't discussed it before. There had been many lengthy conversations about family members and meanings of potential names, but you hadn't settled on one, both you and Brittany deciding that you needed to see his face to find a name.
But in that moment, you were scared. You had already spent what felt like hours drinking in the sight of the cute chubby cheeks and too soft skin, but none of them seemed to fit. However apparently, that came across in your expression as Quinn bumped her shoulder into yours, earning your attention as she asked you the question you didn't want her to ask.
"Have you and Britt chose one yet?"
You shook your head, sucking your lips into your mouth. "We have ideas but… I don't know," you shrugged, folding your arms across your chest, and thinking about the few hundred names that had left both your mouths as suggestions. You both liked unisex names, and untraditional ones but it was a massive deal and that made it harder to choose just the one. "How do you know which is gonna be the right one?"
Quinn stared into your eyes for a long moment, and you never had the talk with her about how she came about with Beth's name. You knew that it was something to do with Puck singing her a song one time, but that was all the information you'd heard, and you didn't know why it took until the birth of your son to have that conversation with her as it steered you in the right direction as she explained why she chose Beth's name.
"You just know," she finally replied and took in a deep breath, returning her eyes to her daughter stood by the cot, dead silent but still staring at your son. She couldn't take her eyes off him, and you wanted to join her, but you knew the conversation with Quinn was needed. "I mean, I had different reasons than Puck did for choosing Beth, but mine was partially religious," she explained, and your face twisted.
"Religious?" You repeated, unable to stop the suspicion in your voice. Just because the girl wore a cross necklace didn't mean she was a regular church go-er and you knew for a fact she wasn't. She did have Beth when she was a teenager, after all.
Quinn huffed out, sensing how dubious you were but she skipped over highlighting it in favour for replying. "In Hebrew, Beth means 'house'," she whispered, and your eyes narrowed. Hebrew? "And that's what Beth was to me… she was my very own version of something that would always be there, welcome me with open arms and where I felt safe, and when I found that out, it just felt right," she breathed and your chest filled with adoration, but your mind was clouded with frustration as none of the names you and Brittany had discussed fit those guidelines.
"You don't have to have meaning when you choose his name, Santana, but–" She paused, pressed her lips together and looked back to your, gaze roaming around your face. "You need to feel it, you know?"
You did. You knew that it was just going to be a feeling, not a choice and so all possibilities had been wiped off. You needed to talk to Brittany, to see what she was thinking as you didn't know but she was asleep and as much as you wanted to wake her and name your son, it could wait. But still… You were left with confusion, and you wanted to see what Quinn would've thought. She had always been your voice of reason with certain aspects of your life, and she was wise like an owl and so it wasn't unexpected when you pressed further.
"Yeah, but… Where do I even start? Is it like a process of elimination?"
Quinn eyed you and smiled, glancing back at her daughter. "Sort of… I mean, how does he make you feel? Now he's here in the real world?"
You paused, thinking over an answer for a long moment. Your son had only been in the world for a matter of hours, but it was like when you realised how significant Brittany was in your life. It was like you were in the dark, not knowing you were there and then suddenly there was light. Suddenly, you could see everything around you and it was like the sun was rising after the darkest night, and it was magical, and that's what your son had done, all over again.
He was just the light of your life, burning bright alongside his mother, and that's what you said.
"He's my light in the dark," you settled on, the words coming out hushed. "He's just like his mom… He's everything bright and I didn't even know it was dark until he was here."
Quinn hummed out a noise of acknowledgement, but you saw the way she sucked her cheeks into her mouth like she was trying to stop herself from smiling or crying. You didn't know which, but you didn't want to get embarrassed as that was totally not meant to come out as softly as it did, but hell… How else were you going to be? You were on cloud freaking nine, and that was the start of a life you couldn't wait to live.
Still, your friend inhaled deeply, pushing off the door and took a step inside the room, cocking her head to the side as she wandered over to her daughter, grabbed her by the hand and whispered something to her. You couldn't hear what, mostly because you didn't think that was the end of the conversation, but then when Quinn returned with a glint in her eye, Beth staring up at you with tears in her eyes, you realised she was going to answer, but she was going to leave you with it.
Which meant it was going to be powerful, and you were right.
It was.
"The Ancient Greeks used to name children based on what they brought to their lives," she started, and you would've asked how she knew about anything to do with history – you didn't even know she was interested – but she saw that and rolled her eyes, continuing her explanation. "And there's a name for the 'bringer of light'," she paused for dramatic effect, but frustration just shot through you. "It's Lucas."
The second you heard the name, your gaze turned back to your girlfriend, still sound asleep, and you froze, but it was like everything fell into place because that was right. The name was right, amongst the many you had discussed, and you shouldn't have been so certain as you needed to suggest it to Brittany, but you had to check in that moment if it was for you.
Your feet led you over to the cot, your hand reaching out to stroke carefully over the back of your baby son's soft cheek, and you repeated it to yourself in your mind, once, twice, three times over until a breathless smile stretched across your face, and you had to finally say it out loud, just for the final confirmation.
"Lucas."
There was a small giggle from behind you, and you peered back to see Beth covering up her mouth, but bouncing in her spot like she was super excited for the name. You then looked to Quinn, finding a wide grin on her face and she held your eye for a few more seconds, before nodding her head and tugging her daughter away, mouthing goodbye to you before she disappeared out of view, and when you looked back to your son, you felt another pair of eyes on you.
But they weren't his. They were to your right, and you gasped when you saw Brittany fluttering her eyes open, wincing as she pushed herself up the bed, blinking away the grogginess and reaching a hand out towards you. You smiled, rushed to her side, and kept your vision on the cot, your arms wrapping around your girlfriends body as you got up on to the bed with her, cuddling into her side.
"Hey," you hushed and pressed a kiss to her forehead. "How you feeling?"
Brittany hummed against your neck, pressing her lips to your pulse point before pulling back to look up at you through tired eyes. "Like I just pushed a watermelon out my vagina," she joked, pushing herself further up the bed and you let out a short laughter, shaking your head as you moved blonde hair away from her face.
"I know… You did so well though, Britt… I'm so proud of you," you sighed and rested your palm against her cheek, searching tired blue eyes as she closed her eyes and leant into your touch.
And as much as you wanted to talk to her about naming your son, you wanted her to be in the right mindset so you could discuss it. She really needed to get a good few hours of sleep under her belt as there were massive bags beneath her eyes, which wasn't exactly surprising as she had spent 22 hours in labour, and you were about to press your lips to her forehead and tell her to get some rest when she reeled back, hand reaching up, long fingers wrapping around your wrist, and she urged your eyes to hers.
They were an astonishing blue, even if they were clouded with fatigue but she was the most beautiful thing you'd ever seen. Bar your son, obviously, who you cast a quick glance at out of the corner of your eye.
"So, Lucas, huh?"
You jerked your head back, brows mashing together, and you spared a glance towards the doorway where Quinn just disappeared. Shit. She must have heard you two talking. "Uh, me and Q were just–"
"Lucas Lopez," Brittany interrupted, whispering the name through a breath and you could hear the happiness in her breathy tone as she dropped her head back against the pillow, reaching out to grab your other arm with her free hand to pull herself up. She winced, tensing and your hands shot out to steady her, hovering around her body as she was in bed so you couldn't really do anything, but it was just instinctive, and when you looked back up to her, you saw her staring at the cot intently. "I like that."
You were pulled back to the conversation at hand, the worry about her hurting shooting out your mind as she settled you with a soft smile, telling you she was okay silently, and urged you to join her on the bed. You did, winding your arm around her shoulders and pulling her into you, and a heaviness began scratching at the back of your eyes as you just stayed in silence, letting the name repeat in both of your minds as you glanced at your son.
"Yeah?"
Brittany tilted her head back, one of her hands coming up and a single finger stroking beneath your chin until you were staring into tired blue eyes. "Yeah… Little Lucas Lopez," she repeated through a breath, and you couldn't help but grin at her, excitement shooting through you, and had it not been for the severe lack of sleep and aftermath of serious adrenaline, you would've probably got up and started celebrating, but you didn't.
Instead, you nodded your head, welling up as Brittany's face split into a wide smile and closed the small distance between your lips, kissing her just once before you settled down again and snuggled into her.
/
There are far too many chairs for the amount of people you have in here, but it doesn't matter.
Rachel chose walk-down-the-aisle songs, and you don't even get to register what it is as you make your way down the short red carpet, feeling many pairs of eyes on you. Some of your friends cry – Rachel obviously – and you would make a remark about how dramatic she is all the time, but you can't. To be honest, you want to cry too as this is way too good to be true, but it is true, and before you know it, you're up at the top, holding a bouquet of white roses in your hand and staring at the double doors at the end, watching all your friends gaze at you for one more long moment before turning their attention to where you came out from.
And you all about die when Brittany appears.
Blue eyes sparkle the second they meet yours, and everything else just disappears as she begins walking down the aisle. Her walk is confident, each stride perfect and a smile grows across your face as you watch her, your mind reeling with the future. You can't believe this is happening. Brittany's walking towards you, holding your vision strong and you're about to make her yours properly, and once upon a time ago, this was a pipe dream.
This was something you used to think about, and when you two split up, it disappeared. It haunted your mind for the first four months, taunting you and being a reminder that you needed to change, but you wouldn't take it back now. You wouldn't change your past because it led here, despite the heartache and pain that you two both went through during the past 8 months and before you can think any more on it, she's right there, your hand automatically snapping out to aid her as she comes to stand in front of you, side on towards the minister.
"Hi," you whisper, unable to stop yourself and the minister beside you chuckles, eying you both and giving you a moment to settle, which you fucking need because you don't think you've ever felt like this before.
It feels like you could throw up from how nervous you are, but you've also never been so prepared for something before. This is all you've ever wanted, and you can see it reflected in the soft smile on Brittany's face.
"Hi," she replies, and you get lost in her eyes, wondering how the hell you're even going to tell her the vows you haven't even thought about yet – everything has been a little rushed – but then the minister is stepping up and grasping a bible in front of him, turning his head to look at you, then Brittany, and speaks.
"Are we ready?"
You can't help but spare a glance at the sea of friends staring up at you from the crowd, all beaming wide, excited grins at you, and you're about to say yes but then there's hands reaching for yours, and your attention is drawn back to Brittany as she takes the lead and replies to the minister with a soft, "Never been more ready," before staring deeply into your eyes again.
And you breathe out a sigh of relief as the aisle music lowers in volume, and all focus is put on the minister as he begins reading his ceremony script, but your mind just swims with memories of the woman in front of you and the journey you had to take to get here.
/
Thirteen Years Ago
Somehow, despite all doubt, you convinced yourself that you and Brittany were better off as friends.
It had been over a year since you met her and Quinn, and they'd become your best friends. Quinn had warned you off Brittany, reinforcing girl code and how awkward it could be if shit went wrong with you two should you try it on with Brittany, and you'd managed to resist all urges and get along with life as per usual. You hooked up with other people, and so did Brittany, but it wasn't until one morning when you woke up, a nameless blonde in your room, that something happened that made you doubt it all over again.
As per usual, you left the stranger in your bed, hoping she'd wake up and get changed, leaving your place pronto as you wouldn't be next to her, and crept out into the kitchen. It was cold, and you grabbed one of your fleece shirts, throwing it over your shoulders as you flicked on the coffee machine and rested your ass against the counter, pressing your palm to your forehead.
You had a raging hangover, wanted to get this nameless blonde out your apartment so you could go back to sleep but also needed to get groceries and shit in and you so did not want to deal with anything that day.
The night before had been fun, as you hooked up with someone and obviously bought them back to yours, but you hadn't returned with Quinn or Brittany. They both left, as Quinn had to get back to Beth and Brittany was dating that douchebag Brody, so it wasn't like she was on the prowl like you were, and you kind of hated it as it meant awkward situations like that morning. You'd have to tell the stranger in your bed you weren't looking for anything and when Brittany was around, it wasn't that bad.
You two had started a routine where you'd found people to hook up with, after the guy that went wrong and required a baseball bat as a leaving notice, and you made yourself a coffee as you thought about how much you missed waking up with your best friend in the same apartment.
Anyway, the thought didn't last for long as the nameless blonde came out, hair and make-up everywhere, clothes bunched and heels in her hand, and you offered a weak smile before doing the awkward walk to the door, telling her you had a good time and that you'd call her when you wouldn't. She was hot, had bright blue eyes and you only noticed when you said goodbye to her how much she looked like Brittany.
Not that she remotely compared, but the past few hook ups you had were blonde haired and blue eyed and it was beginning to dawn on you that it meant something.
But you really didn't want to head down that route mentally, so you pushed it away and watched as the blonde waited by the elevator, pressing the button and you would've ducked back inside, but then you heard muffled conversation as you went to shut the door and peered back out again, to find Brittany coming out the elevator and trading places with the stranger. You sucked your lips into your mouth, heat creeping up to your cheeks, but you just laughed when your best friend eyed the blonde, then threw you a smirk and traded niceties.
"Glad I didn't come over earlier," she said when she came over to you. "Looks like you had a hell of a night."
You let out a laugh and ushered her into your apartment, throwing yourself down on the sofa as Brittany took her jacket off. "I drank way too much," you groaned and pressed your palm to your forehead again as your best friend disappeared into the kitchen, your eyes falling shut. You really needed a Gatorade, and maybe an aspirin.
"I know, I saw… Take these," she whispered, suddenly next to you and you jolted in your spot, grinning but whining at the shot of pain that racketed through your skull at the motion. Her hand was hovering in front of your face as you looked at her, two white pills inside one palm and a Gatorade in the other and you narrowed your eyes, glancing up at her. Was she reading your mind?
"How did you–"
Brittany winked at you and laughed which made your mouth snap shut before the rest of the question could leave it. She took a seat beside you, and pushed her hand into your stomach, grinning bashfully down at you but you couldn't pretend like you couldn't see the shyness in the pink of her cheeks.
"You're my best friend, San," she explained, and you took the pills and bottle from her grasp, settling down on to the sofa as she threw an arm around you and began cuddling you. "I know what you need when you're hungover."
You desperately ignored the way your body relaxed, and how much you wanted to smile as you processed her words and took the pills, following it with a swig of drink before tucking your legs up on to the couch, twisting your body until you were laid down, head in her lap. She beamed a grin down at you, fingers instantly toying with your tangled hair, but you just buried your face into her stomach as heat flooded to your cheeks again, your stomach flipping with the way she was looking at you.
She really did look at you like you were the best thing in the world. Even when you looked like a complete state, which you very much did in that moment.
"You're the best," you mumbled, getting a mouthful of her shirt and she giggled, which made your nose bump into her abs, and you reeled back, deciding you would take full advantage of being able to be stare as you had a hangover, and you could just blame it on that. It was totally normal though, as you just wanted to be cuddled by Brittany and spend the entire day on the sofa, watching movies and even though you probably shouldn't have wanted to do that, it was the cure to a hangover.
You two had done that a hundred times, so it wasn't weird.
"You're cute when you're hungover, you know," she whispered and you were glad she was conscious of the volume of her voice as she was like, super close, but it also meant she could see how your eyes bugged open a little at the compliment. You weren't cute, and you hated that she made you feel so soft inside when she said shit like that, because no-one else could make you feel that way and you were sure it was going to be an issue at some point.
But that point wasn't then, so fuck it, it didn't matter.
"Shut up," you hissed playfully and hummed as her fingertips traced around your face, your eyes fluttering shut. You weren't sure if it was the aspirin kicking in mega quickly, but you were already feeling so much better than you had done when you woke up.
"You also seem to have a type."
You froze, the breath catching in your throat, and peeled your eyes open slowly, finding bright blue staring down at you but there was something behind them that you'd seen before, but never been able to place. If you didn't know any better, and if you didn't know there was some asshat called Brody who was currently dating her, you would've sworn it was something akin to jealousy. But no… No, that was ridiculous.
She was your best friend, and she probably wanted to ask you about your hook up as she usually did, so that was just the way to start that conversation.
(Even if it was a weird.)
Still, it didn't meant you wanted to immediately assume that and so you pressed with a small, "What?"
"Your hook up," she breathed without a single hesitation, and you squinted, hating that you hadn't had the forethought to grab your glasses as she was a little blurry regardless of proximity.
She was still super close, but you couldn't make out the freckles you knew were on her cheeks and see that thing behind her eyes a little clearer. It was still there, and you could see it because she was holding your eyes, still stroking her hands around your face, and doing things that were normal, but it didn't feel normal.
"What about her?"
"San, c'mon," she laughed out and rolled her eyes, brushing her fingers through your hair again, nails scratching at your scalp. "The last few people you've hooked up with have all looked kind of similar," she continued but you just frowned, even though you were being mostly distracted by how she was touching you.
"How?"
Blue eyes met yours again, hands stilling in your hair, and she paused for a long moment, like she was trying to figure out why you were asking. You didn't really know, but you felt like she wanted to know more and that the previous comment wasn't entirely random.
"They're all blonde," she drew out but there was a smirk on her lips as she held your eye. "They're all tall, and slim, have light eyes, and they all kind of look like–"
You couldn't help but see the way her mouth slammed shut, eyes widening and breath hitching in her throat as the words fell short. Her fingers were still tangled in your dark locks, but they tightened when she realised what she was about to say, and you couldn't pretend like you didn't notice. You were way too close not to and the smart thing would've been to move on to a different subject, but there was something bold inside of you, brewing and making you want to press her.
So you did, propping yourself up with a hand over her lap, knuckles pressed into the side of the couch, and turned until blue eyes dragged up to meet your brown ones. "They all kind of look like who?"
Brittany gulped, taking in a sharp inhale through her nose and began laughing, and you shouldn't have been so intrigued by how nervous she began coming across, but you were. The last year you had known her, you two had flirted relentlessly, always making a joke of it when your other friends pointed it out, and it became a joke to everyone. It was like you two were a bomb, waiting to go off but no-one knew if it actually would, if it was a dud, or if it was just a slow burner.
Which never really bothered you, but in that moment, it did. You just wanted to know if there was anything between you, even if she was dating someone else and you'd literally banged a nameless blonde a matter of hours before, and it felt like she was about to call you out on your type, which was eerily similar to her.
"Britt?" You whispered, as she was still staring into your eyes but chuckling nervously and the fact she wasn't touching you anymore was very much highlighted as she was always touching you in one way or another, especially when you were alone. But that made you think you were doing the wrong thing, and kicked you back into reality, knowing that poking your head into that tightly concealed box would be like choosing to cut the red or the blue wire on the bomb and not knowing what the result would be.
So you reeled back, sitting up properly on the sofa and swinging your legs off the side, joining in with the nervous laughter and desperately trying to think of a way to get away from the sudden tension lingering in the air.
However, it seemed she had different ideas, as when you pressed your fists either side of your hips, ready to push up and climb to your feet, long fingers wrapped around one of your wrists and your neck clicked at the speed you looked around to your best friend, finding her searching your eyes. Her lips were parted, breathing heavier and louder now and you knew she was bold, so it shouldn't have surprised you when she answered honestly but it did.
"They look a lot like me."
You choked out another laughter, but it was short and came out sounding like a scoff, like it was ridiculous, but you knew it wasn't. You hadn't consciously decided to start hooking up with women of a specific type, but they all just fell in line, and it had been a point of thought, but you didn't want to deal with the consequences of why you were doing it. There was a little voice in the back of your mind already screaming that answer, but you were doing everything in your power to push it away and were trying not to focus on it.
Which was dumb, as you were staring into her eyes because you had tempted the devil with your insistent questions, and it seemed like a significant moment as you gulped, she gulped, and a length silence followed her words.
But you needed to say something.
You needed to break it and laugh it off, so you shrugged your shoulder, clicking your tongue and continued pushing up, causing her hand to fall away from your wrist as you climbed to your feet and turned to peer down at her. "But they aren't you," you fired back and watched blue eyes narrow, like she was trying to figure out why you had to put space between you.
You knew why. You were just hoping she didn't.
"Is there something wrong with me then?"
It wasn't what you expected, so you gulped again, way too loudly not for her to hear and the breath caught in your throat as you watched her eyes narrow further, but differently this time. She sat up slowly, her feet bumping yours as she moved in front of you and she reached out, hands gripping the backs of your legs and tugging you between hers. It was a bold move, and you'd cuddled, snuggled, and all the things in between but that movement felt different.
It felt like she was trapping you until she got the answer she wanted.
(Which would've been really dangerous.)
"No," you chose to reply and swallowed thickly, folding your arms over your chest so you didn't start playing with her hair or something. "But you can't hook up with your best friend, even if she might be your type," you added.
Brittany smirked though, something clicking in her head, and you cocked your own to the side. "So I am your type then?"
You choked, finding yourself being cornered but you guess that was the intention, if the grin on her face was anything to go by. "You just said the girls I hook up with look like you," you retorted as it was the only thing you could get out.
"Which apparently, you're aware of," she whispered, and heat crept up your spine as her palms brushed up the back of your jean covered legs. You didn't get why she was being like that, but you didn't really care. You two flirted all the time and you were sure it was just that but in a different way. "But that just brings me back to my original question," she paused and took a deep breath, head dropping to the side. "Is there something wrong with me?"
Because you weren't sure if she were actually offended that you hadn't made a move on her in your year long friendship, or if she were testing to see if you'd admit something even you weren't sure of. Sure, the attraction was there, but being your best friend made it dangerous in the feelings area and that was something of which you were alarmingly aware. Probably more so than the fact you would jump her if given the chance.
"Like I said," you breathed but Brittany grinned wider at the rasp in your tone. You had a really dry mouth. "No, but it's like… Girl code or something to not hook up with your best friend."
"Girl code?"
She said it so fast you couldn't help but be instantly suspicious, even more so when you watched her eyes glaze over like she'd heard that from somewhere before. You had, way back when Quinn warned you off Brittany the few weeks after you met, and it wasn't until that moment that you began wondering if Quinn had stuck her oar into Brittany's business, as well as yours. Had she talked to her about it? Had they had a similar conversation?
You didn't freaking know, and because of that, you began feeling increasingly uneasy. You didn't want to admit out loud to Brittany that she had been a topic of discussion between your other best friend, as that would lead to many, many questions that you were genuinely terrified to answer. It wasn't like it wasn't obvious when you two checked each other out or flirted, but being alone and discussing it made your skin go spiky and made panic shoot up your spine.
"Think I've heard that before," Brittany continued and the pressure on your legs disappeared as she shifted and joined you on her feet, staring down into your eyes and scanning over your face. "She got to you, too, huh?"
You sucked in your bottom lip to stop yourself from gasping. The pieces were falling together and now you had a million questions you wanted to ask, like what caused Quinn to talk to Brittany. She only interrogated and warned you off because of your undeniable staring in the first few weeks after meeting Brittany, and back then it wouldn't have mattered as much about the whole girl code thing as she was just a stranger.
But she wasn't anymore. She was your best friend and as hot as you were feeling, as much as you wanted to pretend like it wouldn't matter if you two hooked up now – not that you thought she was offering, but she was skirting around the subject and hell, you were both only human – it definitely would. It could cause a stream of shit and ruin a strong friendship, and so you swallowed the words thrumming through your mind and just nodded your head, admitting in a way that Quinn had spoken to you too, like she had with Brittany, and then you were both in the know.
"Interesting," Brittany breathed, summarising the conversation and then she made the first wise move and took a step away, heading into the kitchen and grabbing a towel before returning back to you, pushing it into your stomach. "Go get showered. I wanna go out for lunch."
You wrapped your fingers around the item, careful not to touch her skin as the air was still incredibly tense around you, and Brittany flashed a small smile before dropping back to the sofa, kicking her feet up on the coffee table and flicking on the television.
You had no idea what had just happened, but you did know one thing.
You were Brittany's type, too.
/
It almost feels like you're not there as the minister reads out the standard wedding speech.
There's some mention of religion, to which you flash a small glare at Rachel who smiles guiltily, but you guess it's not all that bad as the outcome is the same. You're marrying the love of your life, despite all the torture you've both endured this side of ten years ago and the other side, too, and you listen to a guy who doesn't know you describe your relationship perfectly.
He talks about two souls who've merged in another life, always returning to each other in the next regardless of form and it rings closely to the red string theory that Brittany told you about. It reminds you of all the times you've strayed, even when you were just friends and totally ignorant to what could be, and it reminds you of how you have come out the other side.
You think about all the memories you two have had, watching them flash on the inside of your eyelids as your friends cry around you, and Quinn walks up to your side after the minister is finished, shakily handing over two small boxes that you smile softly at. You take one, so does Brittany, and you both pull out the rings you chose earlier, taking in her face as she gasps, blue eyes gloss over and tears fall down perfect cheeks.
It tugs at your heart but makes the butterflies in your stomach go fucking crazy and before you know it, you're crying too, repeating words that the minister is saying as you take Brittany's hand, lifting it into the air and feeling the entire world tilt off its axis as you push the band up her finger. Your thumb strokes over the metal, the tears flowing stronger now and you choke as you try to gain some sort of oxygen, overwhelmed with emotion.
But then it's Brittany's turn, and you're ripped from your daze as she places the ring on your finger, her delicate hand trembling as she gazes into your eyes and you're sure you black out as the rest of the ceremony commences. You're just lost in ocean blue, seeing the past, the present, the future, flash before your eyes again and then the minister is touching your elbow and Quinn's kicking the back of your calf as you realise it's the final moment.
"Now, you both may kiss your bride," the minister whispers, leaning in and clearly noting your complete lack of concentration, but you guess he's used to it with his occupation and all.
So you restart your brain, kick yourself into action and feel your soul leave your body as Brittany steps closer, her hand framing your jaw as your hand falls to her hip and then she's kissing you. It's soft, it's loving, it's careful and it's everything that she is, and you whimper against her mouth, body moving on automatic as you cradle her and hear the sound of an applause around you. There's even a few cheers, and probably a few punches in the air but you don't notice as you lose yourself in the one thing your heart has always been sure of.
Through thick and thin, forever and aways.
/
Eleven and a Half Years Ago
After the conversation with Brittany a few weeks back, things had been different.
There was no mention of it as you continued finding blondes to take home on a Friday night, and you began feeling strange on the nights where Brittany was with you and held your eye after scanning your chosen victim, like she was silently remembering the conversation but never verbalising it; aware that those girls looked a hell of a lot like her. You ignored it, and then made it a few weeks without hooking up with anyone until you were at college one night, doing some assignments that you'd almost forgotten about, and you got 'acquainted' with a teacher.
She was called Cassie July, and she belonged in an insane asylum as the stories that flowed through the halls were all confirmed, but she had abs for days and was fucking hot. You were fully aware of it, and after asking her to help out with some assignments, you wound up fucking against a bookcase in the library and that started the trainwreck extravaganza that was your short lived relationship with a cougar.
She was kind of toxic, and overly jealous considering you weren't dating, and you chose to keep it to yourself instead of updating Quinn or Brittany as well, you didn't want to. Plus, Kurt knew who she was and if he found out, your friends would judge Cassie before they even met her, so you didn't have to worry.
Well, until one Friday night when you were out with your friends at a club not too far from your college and things got even weirder.
You were stood by the bar, waiting behind a couple people with Brittany and she was looking fine as hell. She had a short black dress on, her hair was long and straight, and she had dark make up on which always made her eyes pop. If she weren't your best friend, you knew for sure you'd try it on but since that conversation about types, it felt weird to flirt or even joke about it, and so you told her she'd looked good when you were grabbing a drink and that was the only compliment to leave your mouth.
"Just good?" She replied, a teasing arch to her brow.
Knowing your best bet was to not look her directly in the eye and reveal that another description was going to leave your lips, you waved her off and leant both elbows down on the bar, arms crossed over your chest as you tried to lure the bartender over by your spilling cleavage. "Yeah."
The giggle that left her was dark, and naughty, and it made your skin spike as you tried to come across casual and glance over your shoulder, hoping that Quinn was in listening distance. After having that conversation with Brittany about your type, you just felt weird with her flirting and Quinn always managed to supply you with enough courage to minimise it. Mostly because Brittany had a boyfriend and you had a Cassie, and in fear you'd blurt out that you'd been secretly banging a teacher from your college, you tried staying away because that could have gotten messy.
Apparently Brittany didn't have the same concern.
"I mean, I probably would," she whispered, and the smile dropped from your face as she leaned in closer, chin in her hand, elbow on the bar. It was crowded, but not crowded enough for her to be that damn close and you didn't need to hear what she 'would' do as you were fairly sure she meant you. "And I thought with the way you looked at me when you saw me outside the club, you'd have something better to say than 'good'."
Being flirty was normal to you. Being flirty with Brittany, especially, was normal to you, but you were hyper aware that if you turned your head, your noses would probably bump, and you could take a step further in your friendly flirtation by playing chicken… But there was something deep inside of you was concerned that it would lead down another avenue instead.
Not one you wanted to go down either – you really didn't have a thing for her – but she was your type, proven by the previous conversation, and she was making it really freaking hard not to return the flirtation with the same energy.
Apparently though, you didn't have to worry about replying because then there were familiar voices booming around you, ones you recognised to be Kurt and Quinn and you stole another peek over your shoulder, that time finding relief when you saw your friends well within listening distance. Brittany noticed too, as she leaned back slowly, but held your eye and you released a breath you didn't know you were holding, ready to say something flirtatious that wouldn't be dangerous…
But you didn't get time to.
One second, you were staring into bright blue eyes, and then the next, there were hands on your cheeks, and you were being tugged slightly into the crowd as someone pressed their lips to yours. Unfortunately for you, it was way too hard not to recognise as it had only been earlier that day that you'd left Cassie's apartment with a kiss like that, and that could have only meant one thing.
Cassie was there.
FUCK.
You pulled back, spluttering as your eyes shot open to find exactly who you expected to be there, and Cassie smirked at you. It would've made your skin flood with heat, and you might have even got a little bit excited at her being there, had you not just been intensely flirting with your best friend, but when Cassie's vision flickered to her left, not so subtly eying the other blonde before returning to your gaze, you realised she'd seen you and you were guessing that was why she chose to kiss you, instead of doing something normal like calling your name.
"Cass," you breathed, blinking rapidly as you took in three pairs of eyes now burning your way, and it took a few moments, but you processed that not only did you have some explaining to do with Cassie, but you definitely had some to do with your friends.
Quinn was staring at you, looking entirely offended and pissed with flared nostrils, heavy breathing, and a definite recognition in her eyes of the blonde now draping herself over you. Kurt was judging the hell out of your ass with a slight shake of his head, and last but not least, Brittany was gawping at you, the confidence and cockiness that was on her face only moments prior completely removed but there was a flash of something behind her eyes that you didn't recognise.
And you would've said something. You would've explained it, blurted out anything, but you were screwed either way as all people staring were pissed for one reason or another, so you just smiled weakly and bared your teeth, offering only a shrug as an explanation.
/
Ten minutes after Cassie introducing herself as your current piece of ass, you managed to get the drink you were waiting for.
Brittany and Kurt had disappeared, both of them looking betrayed that you hadn't made them privy to information and Kurt telling you that Cassie was known as a freaking trainwreck over college and was undoubtedly banging several other students too, and you would've got mad, but you were feeling way too guilty. For reasons you didn't want to think about, as you had no reason to feel guilty bar not sharing that information, but it felt deeper than that.
Mostly because every time you blinked, you could still see the image of Brittany's eyes boring into your face after she put two and two together and realised you'd been banging Cassie.
But that was normal, as you had kind of let down your best friend by not being open, but you didn't want to. Again, for reasons you didn't want to think about nor explain, and so you just threw back a few tequila shots by yourself until there was a body sliding up and you knew instantly from the perfume who it was, and what she was about to do.
So, before Quinn could speak, you just held up your hand and her mouth slammed shut as you looked at her. "Before you tear me a new one… Just don't."
The blonde clicked her tongue, pressed her lips together and exhaled loudly to show her disappointment at your attitude. "Freaking Cassie July," she whispered, mostly to herself but you just rolled your eyes, sipping on your drink. "Of all fucking people, Santana."
You knew what you'd got yourself into, and as much as you regretted it in that moment as the inevitable judgement was heading your way, it also made you realise that you could use that as a reason as to why you didn't want to tell them. Cassie did have a reputation, and it didn't both you as you did too, but yours was more of a hoe vibe and Cassie's was evil bitch. You could handle it though, and that's why you didn't care so much.
"She's hot," you tried with a shrug. "And kind of evil. I dig it."
"You 'dig it'?"
Again, you rolled your eyes and turned to look at Quinn side on. "Everyone likes playing with fire now and then," you reasoned, and it was half true. Cassie was dangerous and that was attractive, even if you knew it was only going to end badly and honestly, going down that conversational path was distracting Quinn from asking why you hadn't told anyone.
You had a lie ready to say, but you were scared something else would come out instead.
"Cassie isn't a freaking fire, Santana," Quinn gritted out and grabbed your forearm, staring you hard in the eye. "She's a fucking bomb and that shit is definitely going off at some point."
"So? Everybody makes mistakes."
Quinn lifted her eyebrow, her face shifting from betrayed and pissed to knowing and cocky and you fucking hated it. "So you know dating Cassie is a mistake, then?" She threw back and your mouth opened to release the lie, but she cut you off. "Is that why you haven't told anyone?"
You had to be careful. Anything you said would be scrutinised and replayed as that was the type of person Quinn was and shit, you knew you were being weird. You rarely every hid when you were hooking up with someone, and you had only hidden it as sure, Cassie was kind of a bitch and definitely crazy, but also you kind of liked Brittany flirting with you and when you were seeing someone, she tended to back off and turn it down and you wanted it more than you'd liked to admit.
You definitely couldn't say that though.
"I'm not dating Cassie," you retorted with a sharpness in your tone and flagged down the bartender for another drink with a lift of a finger. "We're fucking and you don't know everyone I sleep with or do whatever with," you tried, and it was partially true, but mostly a lie. The only times you ever hid the women in your life was back when you three weren't that close. "It never lasts long and seeing as you've reacted so well tonight, it's hard to see why I would have kept it to myself," you droned out, sarcasm heavy in your voice now.
But Quinn didn't buy it. She just narrowed her eyes into a glare and scanned over your face, tongue pushing behind her lips like she was debating how to tackle this situation and it went on for far too long. Long enough that you became uncomfortable beneath her stare, tapping your foot and watching as the bartender poured your next drink as you tried not to make it obvious how you were feeling about the partial interrogation.
"You should've told at least one of us," Quinn finally replied, and your eyes slid to her. "It's freaking weird that you didn't."
She had a point, but you hated that, so when you spoke next, it came out slightly aggressive. "So? Britt didn't tell us when she first started hooking up with the human Ken doll," you fired back. "What's the difference here?"
But you'd said too much, or at least said something that caught Quinn's attention because she jerked her head back, her hand dropping from your forearm, and she lifted her chin as she looked over you. Again, you felt uncomfortable, but that time it was different and way colder, with icy fear forming over your chest as you tried to pick up on what you could've said to evoke such a reaction, but when you did, you came up blank.
"That's a weird point to make," Quinn said, an irritating tone to her voice. It made you feel like you'd said the wrong thing, made panic flash through your chest but you really had not to show it. You hadn't even had three drinks and you were blurting out shit you weren't supposed to. "Why would it matter what Brittany did when we're talking about you?"
It felt far too much like an interrogation. An interrogation that would make you say things you didn't mean, but it wasn't like a normal one. It was one you could leave and so you did, laughing it off and hiding the blood rushing to your face by snatching the glass out of the bartenders hand when he came over and throwing your drink back. You rapped a knuckle on the bar top, slamming down your glass after and held out your hand to Quinn, grabbing it when she didn't immediately grab back and pulled her away from the bar.
"Just shut up, Fabray… I need to find Britt and Kurt and apologise for not telling them," you said, and it was so un-Santana, that Quinn was totally thrown off.
So much so that she didn't argue or pick up on the fact you were coming across like you were hiding something – you weren't, but you kind of were – and just followed in silence until you found your other friends, Cassie lingering around waiting to pounce.
/
You decided that taking Brittany off into the bathroom of the club to talk to her alone – as she was your best friend – was an important thing to do after apologising to Kurt.
He just shrugged and told you it was your funeral, and as much as you hated that, you were way more distracted by the way Brittany was staying silent and biting her bottom lip as she listened to your explanation of why you felt the need to hide Cassie. There were multiple reasons. You listed most of them as she was a teacher at your college and just like he said, she was a freaking trainwreck, but you were young and okay with playing with fire as you were kind of numb to emotions and feelings, so it really wasn't that deep.
Even if that fire was a ticking time bomb, like Quinn had told you, but whatever.
Anyway, when Brittany had stayed too quiet, you grabbed her by the hand and dragged her into the bathroom, pretending like you needed to pee. She didn't argue, even if she still hadn't fucking said anything and you really didn't like the way it was settling in your gut. It made you feel guilty, when there was no need to feel guilty because you were hot and single and took full advantage of women's interest in your special situation, but you just… You just did.
You came out of the stall after standing in there doing nothing for a minute, and found Brittany resting against the line of basins, staring at herself and your mouth went to ask her what she was doing, but then you saw something behind her eyes and froze. She noticed your presence, vision flitting to meet yours in the reflection and you slowly approached her, wanting to give her another explanation as to why you hid Cassie, but she didn't tell you about that Brody guy when they first started, so it was no different.
Not that it was like, a competition or anything, but you just didn't get why she was being distant with you considering the moment that was interrupted when she found out about Cassie. She wasn't distant then. She basically told you that she would totally sleep with you because you looked hot that night and had Cassie not decided to interject, you would've flirted back and seen if she was serious or not.
"Are you pissed?" Left your mouth, and it wasn't delicate or subtle, and Brittany jolted a little but continued holding your eye as you came up behind her, folding your arms over your chest. "That I didn't tell you about Cassie?"
She took in a deep breath, slowly turned around to rest her butt against the edge of the sink. "Depends on why," she answered, and you weren't expecting her to avoid denying that she was pissed, as it meant she might have been, so it took you a minute to think of a reason.
You could have just repeated what you said to Quinn and Kurt. You could've just played it cool and tried to convince her that it was because Cassie was undoubtedly going to do something toxic as hell to you, but you were Santana Lopez. Your feelings didn't get hurt that easily and she knew that. There were no romantic urges for Cassie, apart from the urges that led to you tearing her clothes off and having her in every way possible, and that was what you tried to force out your mouth, but you just couldn't.
Because there was a part of you that knew you were lying.
There was a part of you that knew you hid it from Brittany because you were scared of what she would think. You cared way too much about her opinion, and she always wanted the best for you, and you all went to the same college, so she knew the teachers reputation. She heard the stories you did, the gossip about upper class men being seduced by the fiery Cassandra July, and you'd fallen victim for it, too, and there was going to be disapproval on her side, and you really hated when she was disappointed in you.
It wasn't like your other friends being like that. You just didn't know why and honestly? You didn't want to find out.
"I know what you think of her," you landed on, lifting one shoulder in a half shrug, and sucking your lips into your mouth. "I know what she's like."
Blue eyes narrowed, flitting around your face. "So?"
You couldn't help but frown as her eyes were saying something different to her mouth. "So, you're my best friend," you returned and cocked your head to the side. "You care about me and who I date and what they're like."
She moved to her feet, stepping a little closer until the tips of your fingers were almost touching as both your arms were crossed over your chests. "Course I do," she confirmed and took a second to stare at you. "But you always tell me things like that."
Yeah, you were aware, and that was going unanswered but like you said before, you just didn't want her knowing about Cassie. Especially as the older blonde had told you that she didn't really like Brittany, always thought she was weird and if you lingered too hard on that, then you'd have to find someone else to sleep with. Explaining that would have been much harder than just keeping the whole thing on the down low and waiting for its inevitable end and leaving it for the future version of you to deal with it.
A piss poor way of dealing with consequences, but you hated doing that.
"Yeah, but…" You trailed off, desperately searching for anything to end the conversation as you were feeling very uneasy and you thought by the way Brittany's eyes kept roaming around your face, squinting like she was reading small font, that you were showing it. You really didn't want to panic and blurt out something stupid.
"But what?"
It was a challenge, and you were alarmingly aware that a different conversation was going on, but you couldn't understand it. It was like a foreign language, even though there was just dead silence, bar both of your heavy breaths and the best thing to do would've been just to shrug it off, laugh like you always did and get the hell out of the bathroom, but you couldn't. You were rooted to your spot, with your best friend waiting for an answer that wasn't in your head.
You had to say something though, and unfortunately, it was panicked and therefore, not thought through efficiently. "You didn't tell me about you and Brody."
Brittany blinked, jerked back until there was a larger gap between you and her mouth dropped open. "What?" She asked, a little breathless, face twisting with confusion but you couldn't take it back, so you had to go with it.
"You didn't tell me that you and Brody were hooking up," you elaborated as it had been a few weeks since your conversation with her in the coffee shop about Brody.
At the time you were all up in your head, thinking that you could ask Brittany out on a date as she was super attractive, and you were best friends. There were barely any cons, even if Quinn had tried swaying you off once more with the 'girl code' bullshit, but it had shocked you when she'd announced they had gone out a couple times. You knew what that meant, and the only reason you even found out about the guy in the first place was because you caught him trying to sneak out one morning after a night on the town.
Brittany hadn't told you then that he even existed. She hadn't mentioned anything about him and how they'd gotten to know each other as they were in a few of the same classes at college, which you found out from him after almost grabbing a baseball bat and chasing him out the apartment because that would've been a super weird thing to do.
But you just didn't like the way he blurted out shit you hadn't heard about from your best friend, and she had turned up behind him a few moments after, but that just made your heart drop into your ass when she just shrugged and made a cup of coffee. Like it wasn't a totally big deal that she had kept her boyfriend or whatever, a freaking secret.
So you didn't think not telling her about Cassie was a bad thing. She didn't tell you and Cassie wasn't your girlfriend.
"Why are you even bringing that up?" She fired back, and her voice was harder in a way you weren't privy to.
So you got your back up, and you wished you hadn't, but you felt like you were being cornered. "Because you didn't tell me you were banging a real life Ken doll, so I don't know why you're acting like I should've told you about Cassie," you blurted out, aggression present in your tone and the air shifted.
Brittany's breath stopped, her features hardening, and she narrowed her eyes at you, and you weren't used to that either. She was staring at you like you were someone else. There was no softness in her eyes, no smile on her face, no sparkle in ocean blue, and you'd seen her look at other people like that, but not you. She wasn't your best friend in that moment. She wasn't the blonde perfection that made your life brighter just by existing, but the thing that shocked you the most, that behind the instant anger in her eyes, there was a flash of a different emotion.
Something you thought was jealousy.
That was the thing you saw in her eye when Cassie kissed you by the bar. That was the thing you didn't recognise, and you almost choked on the breath you tried to take at the realisation that your best friend was jealous of your new situationship, but you didn't get to because she was clicking her tongue, shaking her head, and finally breaking the eye contact to duck her chin to her chest. She began laughing, but it wasn't amused, emptier instead and you narrowed your eyes as you listened to her silently curse herself before she addressed you once again.
"No, I didn't," she confirmed, and the hardened features hadn't softened, which added another shock to the system. "But I didn't realise this was a competition," she added, and you wanted to tell her she was right, it wasn't a competition, but there was something in the air now that was undeniably competitive. There were words that were going unsaid, being traded through sharp glares and you clenched your jaw when she didn't look away like it was a confirmation.
She knew it, too.
"It's not," you retorted but she let out a short scoff, vision flitting over your shoulder when the bathroom door opened, and a few drunks tumbled in. Which meant that moment was coming to an end abruptly, but the conversation wasn't finished. You were dying to know why neither of you were saying what you wanted to as you were fairly sure you knew why you weren't, but if you went down that mental avenue it would end in disaster.
Or not. But you weren't willing to take the risk as you weren't fucking sure.
"Then maybe you should think about why you really didn't tell me," Brittany interrupted your thoughts, stepping around you and making it clear she was about to leave, but all you could focus on were her words.
If she was telling you that you should know the truth, then it meant that she had already thought about it and clearly had a conclusion and that grabbed your attention. Your heart was racing, lungs working double time as your vision zoned in on the retreating form of your best friend, but you couldn't let her leave on that note. The burning urge to get whatever was inside her head out there was too strong, so before she could get out of reach, you snapped your arm out, fingers wrapping around her wrist and she whipped her head around, blue eyes meeting brown, and she was shocked.
She hadn't expected you to stop her, and try to explain, and you really fucking tried to, moving your lips, and forcing unintelligible sounds from your mouth, but you just.. You couldn't.
Because what was the real reason behind not telling Brittany about Cassie? What was she so certain of, that she felt entitled to challenge you and then leave you empty handed? What was she aware of that you weren't?
You didn't fucking know and apparently she did, so that was throwing you off more and your eyes flickered between each of hers, desperately searching for the answers but she wasn't giving them. She wasn't breaking, keeping her guard held high and the eye contact strong, and it confused you.
What the fuck was she not saying?
"Just think about it," she whispered, and her voice was back to soft as she peeled your fingers off from her wrist, pushing your hand back into your stomach and holding your eyes for another long moment before disappearing out the door.
You didn't know at that moment that it would be all you would think about for weeks to come.
/
Confetti and rice is thrown over you and Brittany as you hold hands and walk down the aisle.
You go through the double doors and the cheering continues, but you just throw your head back, feeling happier than ever as you glance at your wife… You're freaking wife.
There's no way this can actually be happening, and you take a second when you get to the lobby to look over your bride, head to toe and really drinking in what she's wearing for the first time. When you were up at the top of the aisle, you were so damn nervous that you didn't appreciate her dress, and damn. You wish you did because she looks like a freaking angel, and the grin that stretches across your face is so wide that your muscles instantly ache but fuck it.
You just got married; you're allowed to be a total sap.
"Wifey," Brittany chirps and the single word shoots through your veins, spiking beneath your skin as you glance at the blushing bride who has her hand stuck out, blue eyes shining so brightly you're going to need a pair of sunglasses in a minute. "Wanna go get drunk and have sex in the back of the limo?"
Your jaw drops open, heat flushing through your body and replacing the buzzing in your veins with something a lot heavier, but you just nod your head rapidly which makes Brittany giggle, and almost fall over your damn dress as you take her hand and let her lead you out the chapel to the limo outside.
/
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