AN: lots of yapping ... long chapterrrr. Read and review. What characters would you like to see make an appearance? I kind of have an ideaaa for one character to come in and bring the drama!

The car ride back to my apartment was tense, the silence filled only by the soft hum of the engine and the occasional sigh from my mom. Brittany kept her eyes on the road, stealing glances at me through the rearview mirror, her expression a mix of worry and quiet support. Quinn sat beside me in the back seat, her leg bouncing nervously as if she was trying to shake off the tension that clung to all of us.

I stared out the window, the city lights blurring into long streaks as we sped through Orlando. My chest was tight, my mind replaying the confrontation with my dad over and over. Every sharp word, every cold look—it all cut deeper the more I thought about it. The disappointment settled like a stone in my stomach, heavy and immovable.

"Santana," my mom's voice broke the silence, soft but insistent. I turned to look at her, meeting her eyes that mirrored my own—dark, fierce, and full of something neither of us said out loud.

"Mija, you know none of this is on you, right?"

I nodded, even though it felt like a lie. "Yeah, I know." But the tightness in my chest didn't ease.

Brittany's hand reached back, fingers brushing mine in the silent reassurance that she was there, that I wasn't alone. I took a breath, squeezing her hand briefly before letting go. The car turned down my street, and the familiarity of the neighborhood felt like a small comfort, even if it couldn't completely push away the storm inside me.

"We're here," Brittany said, her voice gentle. She pulled into the driveway and cut the engine. The silence that followed was almost deafening, as if everyone was waiting for me to say or do something that would break the tension.

Quinn spoke first, shifting in her seat to face me. "Santana, if you need anything—" she started, but I cut her off with a weak smile.

"I know, Quinn. Thanks." I pushed open the car door, the cool night air washing over me as I stepped out. The others followed, lingering by the car as I walked up to my apartment door. My hand hesitated on the handle, the weight of everything pressing down on me.

Maribel stepped up beside me, placing a hand on my shoulder.

"We'll get through this," she whispered, her voice as steady as it was when I was a kid, promising that everything would be okay even when it felt like the world was falling apart.

I swallowed the lump in my throat and nodded.

"Yeah, we will." I opened the door, letting the familiar warmth of my apartment envelop me. Behind me, Brittany, Quinn, and my mom followed, and for a moment, it felt like I wasn't just coming home—I was bringing pieces of my strength with me.

Whatever came next, I knew I wouldn't be facing it alone.

Inside, the apartment was dim, shadows stretching across the walls from the streetlights outside. I flipped on the light switch, and the soft glow cast a welcoming aura over the room. Brittany set her keys on the coffee table, and Quinn moved to the kitchen, opening cabinets as if looking for something to keep her hands busy.

"Tea?" Quinn offered, her voice hesitant but hopeful. It was her way of trying to soothe the tension, a small gesture that felt comforting in its simplicity.

"Tea sounds good," my mom said, sinking onto the couch and leaning back with a sigh. The lines of worry on her face softened, but only a little.

Brittany sat down beside me, her hand resting on my knee, grounding me.

"You did what you needed to do tonight," she said quietly, searching my eyes for any hint of how I was feeling. "You stood up for yourself."

I looked at her, the sincerity in her blue eyes making my chest tighten all over again.

"It doesn't feel like it," I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. "It feels like I just lost him all over again."

Maribel's gaze met mine from across the room, her eyes softening. "Sometimes, standing up for yourself means accepting that some people won't change, mija. But you didn't lose tonight—you gained clarity. And that's its own kind of strength."

Quinn returned with four steaming mugs, setting them down on the table. "Here," she said, offering one to me. "It's chamomile. Good for calming nerves."

I took the mug, the warmth seeping into my hands, and for the first time that night, a small smile broke through. I took a sip, letting the heat soothe the ache in my chest.

Brittany shifted closer, her arm wrapping around my shoulders. "We're here," she said, echoing her words from earlier. "And we're not going anywhere."

I leaned into her, the comfort of her touch and the quiet strength of everyone around me reminding me that, even in the moments that felt the hardest, I wasn't alone. And maybe, just maybe, that was enough to start healing.

Brittany's texts for the past two days and work have been my saving grace. When we weren't at work, Quinn and I spent our day at my mom's hotel, by the pool.

"Are you girls hungry?" My mom asked, putting her kindle down.

"Starving," Quinn and I said together.

"Where should we eat? What's popping in Orlando?" She said.

Oh gosh," I said, smiling.

"You should see if that Brittany girl is free," My mom said, smirking, "So she can join us."

"Yeah, San, why don't you ask Brittanyny if she is free?" Quinn egged on. I rolled my eyes. I picked my phone up and clicked on Brittany's name. It ring twice before she picked up.

"You know…you were just on my mind," Brittany's sultry voice rang through.

"Was I?" I flirted back. My mom and Quinn were just staring at me.

"I was thinking about when I was going to see you again?"

"Speaking of seeing me," I said, "Are you free? My mom is taking me and Quinn for lunch and she wants you to come along."

"Your…your mom wants me to come?"

"Yeah," I said, "And me too, obviously."

"Let's leave the lovebirds alone," I heard my mom say. I rolled my eyes.

"I'll be free in like 20 minutes if that's okay? I'm just working on something," She said. I smiled.

"You're so mysterious, Ms. Pierce," I said, "Speaking of mysteries, what do you do for work?" I got off the pool chair and gathered up my stuff to go back to my mom's hotel room.

"I don't have a regular job if that's what you're asking," She said.

"Okay smartass," I chuckled.

"You know Blaine Anderson?" She asked.

"Uhm, not really. I don't really have a big group of friends and I spend most of my free time with Quinn studying," I said, absentmindedly.

"Oh babe, we have to get you out more," She chuckled, "Anyways, I'm getting off track. Blaine is a music major but he has a small pool cleaning business and I am kind of like a co-founder slash owner for it as well."

"So you're a business owner."

"I'm a pool cleaner that co-owns the business. So I basically make my schedule. I also handle the payroll and deployment of the other cleaners and the website, alongside the advertising," She rattled off.

"Damn, and what does Blaine do?"

"He works too," She said, "He trains the new hires and does his own pool route."

"And you have your own pool route?" I asked, knocking the door of my mom's hotel room. Quinn opened the door.

"Your mom hopped into the shower real quick," She said. I nodded and sat on the little couch.

"Yeah, Mercedes is one of my clients," She said.

"For real? That's crazy," I chuckled.

"Alright, I'm all done with my little thing. Where are you guys going to eat?"

"Uhm, I don't know?"

"Where's your mom staying?"

"She's at the Tru by Hilton by-"

"The convention center?"

"Yeah," I said.

"Okay, I'm close, I'm over in Doctor Phillips. Just finished cleaning a pool," She said.

"You've been cleaning a pool this whole time?"

"It was just a touch up," She said, "Sent someone here a few days ago and they did not do a good job. I've worked up an appetite."

"Oh yeah," I said, "Uhm, how about Shake Shack in Icon Park?"

"Awesome," she said, "I could definitely eat like two burgers right now. I'll meet you there. See you soon."

"Bye," I said before hanging up.

"So do I look appropriate to meet my daughters girlfriend?" My mom said, walking out wearing a Hawaiian shirt and some shorts with sandals.

"Mami, you look ridiculous," I said, laughing.

"Ms. Lopez, I think you look great!" Quinn said.

"You're such a kiss ass, Q," I said. I threw on my oversized Universal Studios tie-dye shirt and slides.

"And you think you look better?" My mom jokes. I rolled my eyes.

"We getting burgers," I said, grabbing my car keys.

As we pulled into the parking lot at Icon Park, I spotted Brittany leaning casually against her car, her hair shining in the afternoon sun. My heart did a little flip at the sight of her, and I quickly stepped out, waving her over. She grinned when she saw me, pushing off the car and walking over with that confident stride that always made me weak in the knees. She had on white board shorts with oranges printed all over and a UCF hoodie.

"Hey," she said, her voice warm as she leaned in, engulfing me in a hug and kissing my cheek. "Hope I'm not too late."

"Not at all," I said, feeling my mom and Quinn's eyes on us. Brittany noticed, giving them both a small wave.

Maribel's smile widened, and she nodded approvingly. "So, this is Brittany," she said, more statement than a question. "I'm glad you could join us."

"Thank you for inviting me, Ms. Lopez," Brittany replied, her voice polite but with a hint of nervousness that made me smile.

"Just Maribel is fine," my mom said with a wink. "Now, let's go eat. I'm starving."

We all headed inside, the cool air of Shake Shack a welcome relief from the Florida heat. The place was buzzing with chatter and the clatter of trays, but it felt cozy, the bright decor adding to the lively atmosphere. We found a booth near the window, and I slid in beside Brittany, feeling a little thrill as our legs brushed under the table.

Quinn sat across from us, giving Brittany a look that was equal parts curious and playful.

"So, Brittany, what do you do when you're not in school?," my mom asked, leaning forward with interest.

Brittany chuckled, glancing at me before responding, "I was just telling Santana that I'm a co-owner for a small business. I help run a small pool cleaning business with a friend. It's not as glamorous as it sounds, but it keeps me busy."

Maribel raised an eyebrow, clearly impressed.

"I'd say that's quite impressive for someone your age. Good for you."

"Thanks," Brittany said, her smile genuine. She turned to me, her eyes softening. "And it gives me the flexibility to be here when it counts."

I felt my chest tighten with warmth.

"Have you guys been here before?" She asked. My mom shook her head.

"Oh Ms. Lopez, you're gonna love these burgers. I'm going to put in our order," Brittany said, getting up.

"Don't try it Brittany," My mom said, she opened her purse and fished out her wallet, handing Brittany one of her cards, "It's on me."

"I can cover this time if you get the next time," Brittany bargained.

"Take the card, Brittany," she said. I took the card from my mom's hand and handed it to Brittany.

"Let's not turn this into a stalemate," I said, "Can you please get me and my mom the avocado burger and Quinn likes double shack burger with like extra extra extra bacon."

"Regular fries?" She asked.

"I'll do bacon cheese fries," Quinn said, "If they could do extra bacon on that as well, that'll be great!"

"Santanita, ¿tienen batidos aquí?" My mom asked.

"Claro que sí, mami."

"Oh great! Brittany, if they have anything in like cookies and cream milkshake, I'll take that," she said. Brittany smiled.

"I love cookies and cream," Brittany exclaimed, "San, Q, y'all want a milkshake too?"

"I'll do a sprite," Quinn and I said in unison. We looked at each other and laughed.

"I'll go put the order in." Brittany gave me a quick kiss on the cheek and ran off to the front counter.

"I have a feeling she isn't going to use my card," my mom said. Quinn and I started laughing again.

Just like she said, Brittany had ordered two double shack burgers for herself with some cheese fries and a milkshake to match my moms. Brittany's hand found mine under the table, squeezing gently. And for the first time in days, I felt at peace, surrounded by the people who mattered most.

"So, what are you guys doing for Thanksgiving break?" My mom asked. I rolled my eyes.

"If you're asking if Quinn and I are going back home for break, that is a yes," I said, smiling.

"And Christmas?"

"Yes, Ms. Lopez," Quinn said, smiling, "Christmas too."

"What about you Brittany?" My mom asked. We all turned to Brittany, who was shoveling cheese fries in her mouth. She looked at us like a deer in headlights. She gulped down her fries.

"What about me?" She asked, awkwardly.

"What are you doing for Thanksgiving break and Christmas break?" My mom asked.

"Uhm…nothing. Probably house hopping for food," she said, taking a sip of her shake.

"What does your family do?"

"Uh, I think my mom is going on vacation and I'm not close to my dad, so…"

"Well you should come to Ohio with Santana and Quinn," my mom says casually. I coughed, spluttering as the soda burned my throat. Quinn shot me a concerned look, but I waved her off, trying to recover while Brittany stared at my mom, wide-eyed.

"Ohio?" Brittany asked, her voice pitched higher than usual. She glanced at me, then back at my mom. "For Thanksgiving?"

"And Christmas," my mom added, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

I felt my face heat up.

"Mom," I said, trying to sound calm but failing miserably. "You can't just invite people—"

"Why not?" she interrupted, raising an eyebrow. "Brittany's family isn't doing anything, and it's not like we don't have space. It'll be fun. Right, Brittany? The more the merrier."

Brittany looked from my mom to me, still processing. Her lips quirked into that lopsided smile that always managed to undo me.

"I mean…sure, if San's okay with it."

Okay with it? Was I okay with it? My brain scrambled to come up with a response while my heart thudded like a drumline in my chest. I wanted to say yes so badly it scared me, but at the same time, I didn't want to make this more than it was—whatever this even was between us.

"I—uh, yeah, of course," I stammered, avoiding Brittany's gaze. "If you want to, I mean. No pressure."

Quinn snickered under her breath, and I shot her a glare.

"Great! It's settled then," my mom said, clapping her hands like she'd just won a game show. "Brittany, you'll love Ohio. It's cold, but we make up for it with warm food and family."

"Sounds great," Brittany said, her smile soft and genuine now, "I've never seen snow." She looked at me again, and my stomach flipped.

"Never?" My mom asked.

"I've never been on a plane either," she confessed.

"We usually drive there," Quinn said.

"Okay, that's good," Brittany exhaled, "I'm kind of scared of flying anyways." I smiled at her but my thoughts were flying around my head a million miles a second.

I knew my mom meant well, but the weight of it hit me all at once. Thanksgiving and Christmas. Two whole breaks where Brittany would be home with me. My mom wasn't just inviting her to Ohio; she was inviting her into our life, into this small, complicated world I'd built with so many unspoken rules. And Brittany had said yes.

"Cool," I said, trying to sound normal even though my head was spinning. "Guess it's a plan then."

As the conversation shifted back to Quinn and my mom making jokes about Ohio weather, I risked a glance at Brittany. She caught me looking, her blue eyes bright and curious, and she grinned.

"Thanks for the invite," she said softly, like it was just between us.

I nodded, swallowing hard. "Yeah. Anytime."

But in the back of my mind, all I could think was how much I wanted this to work. Not just the holidays, but us. I wanted Brittany to see Ohio, to meet my family, to feel like she belonged. I wanted her in my life—more than I'd ever wanted anyone before.

And that terrified me.

The rest of the conversation faded into background noise as I sat there, half-listening to Quinn and my mom talk about winter coats and snow boots. My mind was stuck on Brittany. The way she smiled at me, the way she just… fit into this moment, like she was already a part of it. I wasn't sure if that scared me more than it thrilled me.

What did this mean? Did she say yes just to be polite? Or—God, what if she actually wanted to come? Is she was picturing us spending the holidays together, like a real couple? The thought made my chest tighten in a way that was equal parts panic and hope. My phone buzzed in my pocket.

1 New message from Mae

I ignored it. She's been messaging me randomly throughout the weeks since we last saw each other. I never respond.

Brittany reached for another fry, oblivious to the storm brewing in my head. I wanted to ask her about it, to figure out if this was a big deal to her, too. But what if bringing it up made it awkward? What if she thought I was overthinking things?

"You okay, San?" Quinn's voice cut through my spiral, and I blinked, realizing everyone was looking at me.

"What? Yeah, I'm fine," I said quickly, sitting up straighter.

"You look a little flushed," my mom said, narrowing her eyes at me.

"It's the soda," I lied, grabbing my cup for emphasis. "Too much sugar."

Quinn smirked, but thankfully she didn't push it. Instead, she turned to Brittany.

"You're in for a treat if you go to Ohio. Santana's mom makes the best food. Like, top tier, Iron Chef America good."

"Oh, really?" Brittany said, her face lighting up. "What's your specialty, Ms. Lopez?"

"Please, don't be like Quinn who refuses to call me Maribel," my mom said, waving a hand. "And I make a mean arroz con gandules. But if you're lucky, I might whip up some empanadas, too."

"Empanadas?" Brittany practically lit up. "Okay, I'm definitely coming now."

Everyone laughed, and for a second, I let myself relax. Brittany was so effortless, so easy to love. She had this way of lighting up a room without even trying. Watching her now, joking with my mom and Quinn like she'd known them forever, I felt this warmth spread through me, melting away some of my doubts.

When the conversation shifted to something else, Brittany leaned closer to me, her voice low.

"Are you sure this is okay? I don't want to, like, crash your family thing."

"You're not crashing," I said quickly, maybe too quickly. I could feel my cheeks heating up again. "My mom wouldn't have asked if she didn't mean it. And, uh… I want you there."

Her eyes softened, and she smiled at me in that way that made my heart feel too big for my chest.

"Okay. Then I'm in."

I nodded, swallowing the lump in my throat. "Cool. Yeah. It'll be fun."

For the rest of the meal, I couldn't stop stealing glances at her. She was coming to Ohio. She was going to spend the holidays with me. And even though I was still terrified of what that meant, I couldn't help but feel like maybe—just maybe—this was the start of something bigger than either of us would have suspected in this amount of time.

The campus was a madhouse. Freshmen and their parents swarmed like ants, luggingq mini fridges, microwaves, and enough plastic bins to build a small fortress. Every corner was loud with excited chatter, squeaky wheels on tile floors, and the occasional frustrated argument about dorm layouts. Quinn had called it Move-In Madness, and she wasn't wrong.

Brittany had texted me earlier that morning to see if I wanted to go on a picnic and watch the freshman's move in. I agreed and here we were, on a blanket, with some pub subs and chips and drinks displayed in front of us. Brittany and I watched the chaos from a distance, sitting on the grass near the Reflecting Pond. She was stretched out on her back, her arms tucked under her head, while I sat cross-legged next to her, sipping on an iced coffee. The sun was high, the air thick with the last stretch of summer heat, and it felt like the calm before the storm.

"Remember when that was us?" Brittany said, nodding toward a group of students struggling with a couch.

"Barely," I said, smirking. "Pretty sure I blocked out most of freshman year."

She laughed, the sound warm and easy. "It wasn't that bad. I mean, you survived."

"Thanks to Quinn," I said. "She basically bullied me into figuring out my life."

Brittany turned her head to look at me, her blue eyes bright under the sunlight. "And now look at you. Junior year. You're practically a grown-up."

"Terrifying thought," I muttered, taking another sip of my coffee.

"Y'all staying in your student housing this year?" She asked.

"Quinn thinks it's time for us to get an actual apartment. Fully off campus," I said.

"What do you want?" I shrugged.

"I like our little place and plus we're so close to school. Moving out means moving further away. I'm comfortable."

Brittany tilted her head, watching me with that curious look she always gave when I said something she wasn't expecting.

"Comfortable is good," she said after a beat. "But doesn't mean it's the best thing for you."

I raised an eyebrow. "What's that supposed to mean, Dr. Pierce?"

She grinned, sitting up, "Just that sometimes you gotta shake things up. Try something new. Like… I don't know, living somewhere with an actual dishwasher instead of that weird sponge Quinn uses like it's a magic wand."

"Okay, valid point. But it's not just about that. I like our place. It's familiar. It feels like ours, you know?" I snorted.

Brittany nodded, her smile softening.

"Yeah, I get that. Change is scary."

"Terrifying," I admitted. "Plus, with school starting up again, I don't have the energy to go apartment hunting. Quinn's been on Zillow like it's her full-time job, but I don't think I'm ready to move yet."

"Does she know that?" Brittany asked, giving me a sideways glance.

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. "Not yet. I figure she'll wear herself out on the search and give up before it becomes a thing."

"You're banking on Quinn giving up? Bold strategy, Lopez," Brittany laughed.

I couldn't help but laugh with her, shaking my head. "Okay, fair. She's stubborn, but I'll deal with it when it comes up. For now, I'm holding my ground."

She reached over, nudging my knee with hers. "And if she doesn't back down?"

I looked at her, her bright blue eyes so steady and calm it made me want to tell her everything. "Then I guess we'll figure it out. We always do."

Brittany smiled, leaning her head against the back of the couch. "You know, you're a lot more flexible than you give yourself credit for."

"Don't let that get out," I teased. "I've got a reputation to uphold."

"Your secret's safe with me," she said, laughing softly.

For a moment, we sat in easy silence, the distant sounds of the campus chaos fading away. It was moments like these that made me forget all the other stuff—the tension with my dad, the uncertainty about what Brittany and I were. In these quiet stretches of time, it felt like nothing else mattered.It had been like this for most of the summer—easy, natural. Brittany had become this constant in my life, showing up with her effortless charm and open smile. We spent nearly every free day together, doing everything and nothing all at once. And yet, we still hadn't defined whatever this was between us.

Every now and then, I thought about bringing it up, about asking her what she wanted, where she saw us going. But then I'd chicken out, convincing myself that we didn't need labels. Not yet.

"So," Brittany said suddenly, breaking the quiet. "If Quinn manages to convince you to move, what's the deal? You two still gonna live together?"

"Probably," I said. "Quinn and I have our thing. We fight over dishes and whose turn it is to vacuum, but it works. Plus, it'd be weird not living with her."

"Yeah," Brittany said, her voice softer now. "I get that."

She glanced at me, something unspoken flickering in her eyes, and I realized she wasn't just asking about Quinn. My chest tightened, and I felt that familiar tug of wanting to say more, to ask her what we were doing, but I couldn't find the words.

"What about you?" I asked instead. "all this time we've been hanging, I have yet to see your place."

Brittany smiled.

"I, uh, live on my own," she said.

"Close?"

"30 minutes away," She said, "Downtown Orlando. By Lake Eola."

"Can I see?"

"Come on," she said, holding out a hand to me.

I let her pull me to my feet, her hand lingering in mine for just a second longer than it needed to. She smiled and let go of my hand to pick up the leftover chips and the blanket, I couldn't help but think that maybe I didn't mind the idea of change so much after all.

We fell into a comfortable silence, as she drove us away from UCF towards downtown.

My phone buzzed in my pocket, breaking the moment. I already knew who it was before I pulled it out.

From Mae: Good afternoon, Santana! Hope you have a beautiful day. I miss you so much!

It was the same message I got every day. Sweet, simple, and impossible to respond to. I locked my phone and shoved it back into my pocket.

"Mae again?" Brittany asked, her voice soft.

I nodded, not looking at her. "Yeah. She's… persistent."

"That's not a bad thing," she said, pulling into a parking garage. I sighed, running a hand through my hair.

"It's not her fault. She's trying, and I get that. I just… I don't know what to say to her. Or to him."

Brittany didn't push, which was one of the things I liked about her. She didn't need me to explain myself; she just let me exist.

"We're here," she said, motioning to the garage.

"You live in a garage?" I snarked, stepping into the parking structure as Brittany rolled her eyes.

"Okay, smartass," she said, shaking her head, "Come on."

She led me through the garage and into the building's lobby. My teasing came to an abrupt halt.

The space was stunning—sleek marble floors, modern furniture, and floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the Orlando skyline. Everything about it screamed luxury. I glanced around, trying not to look too impressed, but it was hard not to gape just a little.

"This is your place?" I asked, my voice betraying more surprise than I wanted it to.

"Well," she said, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear, "not exactly mine. I just live here. Fifth floor." She pressed the elevator button and glanced at me with that easy, unassuming smile that somehow made her impossible to read.

When the elevator dinged and the doors slid open, Brittany motioned me inside. She leaned casually against the wall, her fingers tapping lightly on her phone screen before she slid it into her pocket.

"You're being quiet," she said, glancing at me. "Nervous?"

"Not nervous," I said, shrugging. "Just… Like I knew you said downtown but I don't know. This isn't what I expected at all."

She laughed, the sound soft and genuine.

"Don't get too excited. It's just a place."

The doors opened on the fifth floor, and she led me down the hall. When we reached her door, she paused, pulling out her keys.

"I haven't cleaned up in a few days, so keep the commentary to a minimum," she teased, unlocking it and pushing the door open.

I stepped inside and stopped in my tracks.

The apartment was stunning. Bright, colorful walls gave the space a warm, inviting feel. The living room was anchored by a royal blue modular sofa that looked like it belonged in a design magazine, surrounded by mismatched throw pillows in bold patterns. A huge flat-screen TV hung on the wall above a reclaimed wood console, and the shelves flanking it were filled with books, plants, and quirky little figurines. Pictures had littered the walls. Her shoes were littered by the front door as well as various jackets.

"This is…" I started, glancing around. "Wow."

"It's not as dirty as you were expecting," Brittany said with a small, playful smile.

"Britt, I don't think you want to see how my apartment looks if you consider this messy?" I repeated, turning to her. "This place is incredible. Seriously, Britt, you must be one hell of a pool cleaner."

She cut me off, waving a hand as she kicked off her sneakers. "It's not a big deal. The business does well, and I've been smart about saving and budgeting. That's all."

"That's all?" I said, raising an eyebrow. "You're a business mogul and going to school, and living in a place like this. Pretty sure that's a big deal."

She shrugged, heading into the kitchen to grab drinks. "I mean, I'm not exactly rolling in it, but I do okay. It's hard work, but it's worth it. Plus, I like being independent. I like knowing I can take care of myself."

The casual way she said it made me stop. There was no arrogance, no need to flaunt anything. Just quiet pride.

She handed me a soda and motioned for me to sit on the couch. "You want the grand tour?"

"Definitely," I said, sinking into the sofa. It was as comfortable as it looked, and I could already feel myself relaxing.

Brittany walked me through the apartment, showing off the little details that made it hers. The second bedroom was set up as a home office, complete with a whiteboard covered in scrawled notes and a map of all the houses they service and everyone's schedule. The kitchen was small but colorful, with bright tiles on the backsplash and a fridge covered in photos and a shit load of alphabet magnets. I rearranged a few so it said San was here.

"So," she said when we circled back to the living room, "what do you think?"

I sat back on the couch, taking it all in. "Honestly? I think you're even more impressive than I thought."

She rolled her eyes, but her cheeks flushed pink. "It's just an apartment, Santana."

"No," I said, shaking my head. "It's more than that. You built this for yourself. That's… really cool."

Brittany sat down beside me, tucking her legs under her. "Thanks," she said quietly. "That means a lot."

I glanced around the apartment again, noticing little touches—photos on the wall, a half-finished puzzle on the dining table, a bright yellow blanket draped over the back of the couch. It didn't feel cold or impersonal like I'd expected from a place like this. It felt like her.

"This is definitely your vibe," I said.

"My vibe?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah," I said, gesturing around the room. "It's colorful, comfortable, and a little chaotic. Just like you."

For a moment, neither of us said anything. The soft hum of the AC filled the space, and I glanced around again, feeling the warmth of the room—not just from the colors but from the energy she'd poured into it.

"You know," I said, breaking the silence, "I'm almost tempted to hire you to clean a pool I don't even have, just to see you in action."

Brittany laughed, leaning back against the cushions. "Careful. I might take you up on that."

We settled into the couch, talking and laughing like we'd done it a hundred times before. And as I watched her, relaxed and content in the space she'd created, I felt that familiar tug in my chest—the one that reminded me how much I liked her. Maybe more than I was ready to admit.

Later, we ended up staying at her apartment, sprawled out on the couch with an old Disney movie playing in the background. Quinn had texted me that her and Tina had gone off to help Kurt with some last-minute fashion project, leaving the place unusually quiet.

"You ever think about what happens when school starts?" Brittany asked suddenly, breaking the silence.

I glanced at her, trying to gauge her tone. "What do you mean?"

"I mean… we've been hanging out a lot," she said, her voice careful. "And I like it. A lot. But once classes start, things get busy, and I just… I don't want this to stop."

Her words caught me off guard, and for a moment, I didn't know how to respond.

"It doesn't have to stop," I said finally, my voice quieter than I intended.

She looked at me, her expression soft but serious. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah," I said, meeting her gaze. "Plus, you're stuck with me since I'm bringing you home for the holidays."

Brittany laughed.It wasn't a confession, not really. But it felt like a step in the right direction.

Brittany smiled, leaning back against the couch.

"I'm excited that my first time seeing snow will be with you."

"Same," I said, smiling back. We didn't say anything else after that, but the air between us felt lighter. Whatever this was—whatever we were—maybe it didn't need a label. Not yet. For now, it was enough to just be.

AN: yapperton signing out