Author: elitemassacre6 PM
Santana hasn't been human, or, for that matter, alive for ten months. When she's forced to tell Rachel, she doesn't see the fear or cold-shoulder she expected. Takes place post graduation and about one month before both girls move to New YorkRated: Fiction M - English - Supernatural/Romance - Santana L. & Rachel B. - Chapters: 2 - Words: 4,546 - Reviews: 9 - Favs: 18 - Follows: 60 - Updated: 08-21-12 - Published: 08-06-12 - id: 8402257
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
She awakens, limbs tangled with those not her own, the now not only familiar, but understood coldness of her best friend's body tucked close to her. The memories, the knowledge...both lodged in her brain and Rachel finds it strange that she didn't have to take a few moments to remember her most recent memories like every other rising of her eighteen years. She stretches her arms, just now noticing the lack of piercing sunlight streaming through the dark curtains .
Although she would usually bemoan the total failure to get up and follow her routine, she lets it go and turns to the body next to hers, curling back into the cold, listening to the silence of the still heart below her well-trained ears. Santana's eyes open quickly, her first breath of the day sharp. Rachel can't help but wonder what that's like, waking up every day when you shouldn't be able to, when your old sense of normality and understanding of life and death dictate that you never will again. She's glad for the contradiction. For the chance to risk her heart again.
"Good evening." Santana looks over at her, smiling softly while Rachel herself yawns.
"Hey, shortstack. Sleep good? You hungry?" Rachel nods slowly, wiggling her toes and pulling the vampire closer.
"Yea. Slept really well. I am quite hungry, but can we just lay here for a little while and eat after?" Santana nods, closing her eyes and breathing deeply. They lay there, close and content, for close to an hour. Rachel is teetering on the edge of sleep and wakefulness by the time Santana gets up, stretching, and then looking over.
"Hey, don't go back to sleep, time for breakfast." The performer frowns and groans before rolling out of bed, taking the first steps out of the room and down the steps.
"I wasn't going back to sleep, Tana. Resting my eyes." With the other girl following behind her, she descends the steps and flops herself down at a chair in the kitchen when she reaches it.
"You were. You know I can hear your heartbeat right? When it's slowing like that, beating at an even rhythm . And hear you breathing. You were falling asleep. If you really want, we can take a nap after we eat. What do you think you want, sleepyhead?"
"I wasn't aware you could hear that, no. Although I guess I should have been, since technically you're a predator now. Most predators have increased speed and senses. Hearing, smell, vision. I think I'll make a waffle. That sounds rather delicious now. You go ahead and drink and then maybe sit here with me for...well I suppose I can't logically call it breakfast...dinner maybe." Santana waits, gazing at clear, bright, eyes that belonged to her best friend.
"Does it scare you? What I am? Are you afraid of me, Rae?" Santana asks, more than bothered by the idea.
"Of course not Santana. Maybe if it was anyone else. But it's you, and I love you, I trust you." Rachel answered honestly, wrapping small arms around her best friend's tightly muscled torso.
"You sure? I couldn't...it would would break my heart if I thought you were afraid of me now. I would never hurt you, Rae. I will never hurt you. I'd kill myself before I did." The shorter girl huffed, leaning up to gently, and without any real thought about the consequences, press her lips against Santana's own.
"I'm positive, Tana. Now can we not talk about you dying...again? That, I am afraid of."
"Ok." Is spoken against her face, and Rachel watches as she retrieves the waffle iron and plugs it in before heading out the garage door. Alone in the kitchen, Rachel opens the refrigerator to retrieve her ingredients, pulling everything out and placing it on the dark marble countertop. She quickly mixes it up, smile bright and excited as she pours the batter into the hot iron. When she reaches for the bananas and vegan whipped cream, everything else already either washed or put away, Santana strides in through the door, hair piled messily on top of her head in a poor impersonation of a bun. Their eyes lock as she passes by with a smile, climbing up the stairs afterward.
When she returns, Rachel is at the table, just now adorning her waffle with vegan whipped cream. Santana sits down across from her, staring her whole grain and nut waffle with bananas.
"Hungry much there, Rae?" She nods, digging in.
"Do you ever miss food like this? waffles and chinese and pineapples? Stuff like that? I imagine I would." Santana nodded, leaning up to place a simple kiss on Rachel's forehead before sitting again.
"Yea. Those are your favorites, but I miss stuff. Popcorn, fries, your I'm sorry cookies. But overall it's not so bad. I'm alive, and I'm here with you." Rachel nodded, hopping up to wash her dishes once she afterwards.
"That is something for which I'm exceedingly grateful, Santana. Now, what's on the agenda for today?"
"I figured we need furniture...since none of the things here or at your dads' really fits into our style. We could head to Ethan Allen and pick some things out. Have the bedrooms, living room and office halfway done." Rachel nodded, gently pretending to play out the notes to a song Santana didn't know on the imaginary piano that was the surface of the island.
"I hope you don't honestly expect me to sleep in my bed when we move in, Santana. At least not for a week or so." Santana shook her head, smiling softly.
"I don't really expect you sleep in it all the time, but I know you, you need your own space, a safe zone. Anyway, still tired?" Rachel nodded her head, smiling when Santana lifted her bridal style and ascended the stairs like her one hundred and eighteen pounds was nonexistent.
"Will you tell me about something?" Rachel asked when they were both comfortable under Santana's dark duvet. She received a nod and closed her eyes, running the bumps of her knuckles over the tanner skin of the latina's abdomen.
"Do you remember, right after what happened to you...when you tried coming back to everything but it was overwhelming and you shut me out? You disappeared for days at a time, and then you would come back and try to stay...but you'd always leave again when ever we got too close...what was going on with that?" Santana sighed, wrapping her left arm tighter around the constantly warm Rachel.
"I was afraid of what I was. What I could do. What I would do. We were so close before that, you know...and I didn't know how strong the instinct would be when I was close to you so I decided I wouldn't ever test that. I was going to leave and not come back...But everytime I tried, every time I went to leave this place I thought about you and how it would hurt you, and how much hurting you always makes me feel like the peice of shit everyone else thinks I am. After a while, I realized that the further away from you I ran, the more alone I felt...The more I realized that you would never leave like that- never just fucking abandon me." Rachel shook her head, warm and content.
"Of course not. It know that no matter how close we are, it may feel like you're alone, but you aren't. We're in this together, and if I have it my way, it will always be that way."