Disclaimer: I do not own Brittany, Santana or Glee. (I wish)
Rated: M for Language and Mature content in later chapters.
Pairing: Brittany and Santana. (Also side relationships)
Themes: Drama/Angst, Comfort, Romance and Comedy.
[Summary] Brittany has been treated differently and bullied for her condition all her life and mean girl Santana Lopez would be her worst nightmare if they were to ever meet. In a turn of events to escape the harassment at her previous school, Brittany's family move to Lima and right next door to the Lopez residence. Both girls' lives are then turned upside down forever.
"Too often we underestimate the power of a touch, a smile, a kind word, a listening ear, an honest compliment, or the smallest act of caring, all of which have the potential to turn a life around." - Leo Buscaglia
Brittany Pierce was as innocent as they came. Internally, she was an All-American kind of girl with hopes, passions and goals as every other seventeen-year-old would have. However, instead of worrying if she had made that perfect speech in front of a crowd of sanctimonious class mates, the one that would win her votes for this year's homecoming queen. Brittany would worry about if she'd be able to answer the most mundane questions that would be asked each and every day. What were her plans for that night? What did she think about that one movie? Did she think that guy was cute?Brittany would always keep her answers short and vague, to dodge any disdainful looks or smart mouthed remarks that may be fired her way. She was lucky; most people tended to avoid her in general but when they did approach the fearful blonde, it was out of unkindness to provoke a reaction they could mock.
Brittany, got a date for Homecoming?
Why not? Can't find one?
"I don't want to go."
There's no boy you'd like to take?
You'd rather be alone?
What if we dragged you out? What if we put our hands on yours; skin on skin... Then we drag you from your lonely and pathetic hole that you've been cooped up in. Would you comeout and play then?
The girls at her previous school where far too egotistical to show any empathy towards Brittany, especially with her condition. Asperger's Syndrome was life consuming for her, she was trapped and felt claustrophobic in her own self and Brittany's only wish at seventeen was to finally burst out, or find the courage to even try. But with her crippling life at St. Mary's, it only meant taking one step forward and two steps back.
Brittany found it almost impossible every time to have a civil conversation with someone, without boring the listener by divulging into her own bottomless pit of obsessions by blurting out endless remarks regarding the beauty of biology and nature; her forte and only muse. Many addressed her vague remarks towards questions as offensive and insensitive, which ultimately left Brittany embarrassed so she avoided much conversation all together. Brittany would keep her head down to discourage any eyes that were hunting for a little guinea pig like herself to play with and when she was spoken to, she'd usually have an answer with less than three words or even as short as three syllables.
Truth be known, Brittany Pierce was the most honest girl that anybody could have ever met. She was a girl who was brought up in a generation full of lies and disloyalty. Her classmates couldn't stand the fact that none of the teachers could put a bad word to her name and was frowned up on for taking on reality and not living in some superficial universe up in her head like the rest of the girls did. The girls of St. Mary's were jealous because Brittany Susan Pierce kept it real when the rest of the world was turning to shit.
One unfortunate night, Brittany's mother, Grace had to draw the line when some of girls at her daughter's boarding school plotted against Brittany and sabotaged her. She was called late by the head mistress regarding Brittany who had been involved in an incident and suffered a severe panic attack. It turned out that the girls had pinned Brittany down on her bunk when she was sleeping and started ticking her skin which caused an unforeseen reaction for both the students and teachers.
Part of Brittany's condition, as rare as it was, meant that she also suffered from having Aphephobia – meaning the she had a phobia of being touched. For Brittany, it was solely skin to skin contact and her parents wondered if it had something to do with their daughter being on the autism spectrum but the doctors dispelled such theory and instead related it to anxiety issues. The days Brittany started to realise as a kid that she was different from everyone else were the days she began to stop putting her trust in others and she was never the same since.
It was devastating for her family but true; no one could ever touch her skin, not even her parents and for many long nights, both of them cried and prayed, hoping that their little baby would someday get better. Brittany could never be intimate or be close with anyone, she had never held hands with anybody without gloves nor had she ever been kissed. Romance was just a noun to Brittany and an experience she would never get. But even though the girl was emotionally and physically excluded from society, she was determined to change it after that one night at St. Mary's and without second thought, her family packed their bags, sold the house and drove far, far away. And Brittany never looked back.
Santana Lopez was the complete opposite of Brittany; she walked taller than everyone else with her pride towering over the rest of the minions at McKinley High School. The girl reeked of confidence, and it smelled delicious. Her status was so disgustingly important to her that she baked girls dry if anyone tried to steal her spot on top of the pyramid in the Cheerio's. Yes, she was also head cheerleader at school and front runner for Homecoming Queen funnily enough. But it wasn't always tiaras and leotards for the rich bitch that got everything. Her life behind the scenes was also pretty fucking sad. Santana's mother, Anita was more overbearing and nagging than tics on a matted and moulting alley cat. For years now the parasite of a 'mother' had wormed her way into Santana's head, using her own daughter as a carcass to live her own teenage -well past it's sell by date- fantasies. Ever since Santana's father left them when she was eight, her mother could only ever take her own misery and failings out on her daughter which unfortunately, became Santana's norm.
Love is false; love is a pedestal that's setting you up so your can heart only be broken and so you can fall back down again...
Fate is a silly game; it doesn't give a shit about you, so always play by coincidence...
Only make eye contact with someone you're about to destroy, otherwise, don't take a second glance at anyone, it means they haveyourattention.
Just face it Santana, it's better when it's without feelings. I'm only doing this for your own good...
This biased advice was cherished in Santana's black book of lies, which she carried with the rest of her weights and chains every single day and it dragged her down to exhaustion…
"Mom!" Santana winces with her nose creased and teeth baring. Mrs Lopez tugs through her daughter's hair roughly with a comb while mumbling incoherent threats under her breath.
"Well Santana, this is what happens when you sleep with your hair wet! I swear one of these days you'll learn." One final loop with the head tie, a gallon of hair spray and a defeated plea by the fearless cheerleader for her mom to stop and Santana Lopez is ready for a new school day.
"Now remember, Nationals are only a couple of months away, so I think it would be productive for you to make your own way home from school now instead of carpooling. And you should fit in a couple of hours of extra training when classes finish. I spoke to Coach Sylvester and she thinks it is a divine idea." Santana scoffs, but isn't surprised at her mother's orders.
"Now give me a smile, it doesn't suit you when you're face is tripping." Anita gives another aggressive pull on her daughters hair, causing Santana to yelp but she flashes a smile anyway as for without pain, skin couldn't grow tougher.
Satisfied, Mother Trunchbull checks her own manufactured self in the mirror, snorts and whisks away out of Santana's bedroom, trailing off about something about having to make lasagne for the new neighbours leaving Santana to stand alone statuesque like, glaring at her reflection in the mirror. Every single morning this was the same old routine; every morning she would be left by her mother and feel nothing but pure resentment which burned furiously within her chest. That burn was the fuel that kept Santana so fiery throughout the day, always keeping her focused, always on edge and always so god damn nettled by everyone else.
Finally Santana tilts her head up, trying to spot any imperfections in her make-up and breathes deeply, dusting off her cheer uniform before she makes her way to her bedroom window. It was a humid day in Lima and it was definitely not helping Santana's mood. She draws back her black curtains and lets the sun beat down on her. Closing her eyes she rests her head against the glass and allows the warmth soak in her skin. When it gets too hot she unlocks the hatch and pushes the double hung window open, letting the breeze dance along her dark olive skin.
She examines the empty house opposite her; it had been neglected for a while so she was curious as to who her new neighbours could be. Unfortunately, her neighbourhood was filled with confused OAP's and bratty children, running around frantically with icky snot bubbles and food smeared all over their faces; so she kept herself well reserved when it came to mingling in her street. But who knows, maybe a cute boy would move next door and that way she wouldn't have to crawl down to Puck's level anymore to get some kind of thrill.
Sex was more of a distraction for Santana than anything; it didn't matter who it was with just as long as it was consistent in her life. She didn't have any feelings for the people she slept with and usually it was a one off. Santana just liked the idea of somebody wanting her, even if it was in a way that made her out to be an object instead of a treasure or anything desired. She was just a toy and that was fine.
A familiar car horn sounds, and Santana is abruptly shaken from her thoughts; she lifts her bag that had been slumped on the floor and flees out of her bedroom and down the stairs, leaving without a word to her mother. She skips down her front yard to meet her closest friend, Quinn Fabray – another cheerleader – another posh totty who even owned a Porche.
Quinn and Santana became close when they were both accepted for try-outs in freshman year and even though they were the two youngest dancers to try out, they were two of the best cheer performers at the school. Quinn's mother was totally a toddler's and tiaras woman which ultimately set up a competition between the two friends and it wasn't always friendly; in fact, there wasn't a day gone by when they didn't bicker and Quinn was still bitter after Santana was made head Cheerleader despite remaining to be stuck up Sue Sylvester's ass. Quinn always hoped that maybe the coach would change her mind and make her on top but she was always left disappointed and she always held Santana accountable for it.
"You really need to start thinking about getting your own car or start thinking about paying me for gas," Quinn sighed, fixing her shades in the rear view mirror. Santana threw her bag in the back seat and hopped over the car door into shot gun. "And you really need to stop doing that; you're like, killing my leather seats." She complains but Santana rolls her eyes.
"And you need to lose a few pounds but you don't see me complaining." Santana smiles as she watches Quinn's perfectly caked face drop before making an 'O' with her lips. "Drive."
Quinn glowers behind her shades, punches the car into gear and speeds off while Santana watches her highly pissed 'friend' in amusement, setting her up in good spirits for the rest of the day.
Brittany stumbles out of the family Grand Cherokee, feels her feet, stretches and sighs before rubbing her eyes awake. An unusual smell grips at her attention as she sniffs the air. The smell is damp and organic and as she squints in the sunlight she realises it's the scent of the flourishing trees, the fresh cut grass and the delicate flowers, dancing in the breeze from daisies to wild tulips. A wave of relief washes over her and she's awe struck for a moment, it's like she can hear music in her ears. Back in Arizona, she was stuck in a drought of anything raw; even the plants had brittle spikes severing out from their bodies yet here, she hadn't even stepped out of the car for ten seconds and she felt a flutter in her stomach like the butterfly that was weighed down by doubt had finally broke free. She leans against the car for a moment, clutching her stomach and smiling heartily from cheek to cheek and even lets out a unfamiliar giggle. It was happening, she was finally free from St Mary's, from Arizona and for a brief moment, she was free from herself.
"So what do you think? Pretty neat huh?" Brittany's mom gleams at her but she knows instantly that this move is a good decision. Brittany tiptoes up the front yard, carefully eyeing the woodwork and strokes her index finger down the pillar of the porch yet doesn't say a word although she's animated, curious and absolutely glowing. A grin is enough for her mother to be answered.
Several hours of unpacking, touring and testing appliances pass and Brittany sits alone in her new room. She plays with a lock of hair while inspecting her surroundings. The walls are bare but it excites her. Brittany is a fond painter and as she plans out picturesque images in her head, she looks forward to bringing out her hidden character through such colour and designs.
She's walking now, grazing her hands across the walls and stops at her bedroom window. Desperate to smell the crisp air again, she forces the jammed hatch open and another grin creeps up on her face as she closes her eyes, inhaling the earth. Without thinking, she jumps onto the ledge which is wide enough to sit on; perfect for nights when she couldn't sleep and positions herself across the pane with her left leg dangling outside and her right folded up to her chest.
Brittany begins to curiously examine the house next door, it's a twinned house identical to hers with a similar window facing opposite her not ten feet away. The room was most likely parallel to hers; black curtains lick across the ledge of the other window in the soft breeze, almost inviting her to look inside of the stranger's room but it's the rustling of the young oak tree that catches her attention next. It slouches between the two houses and one of the branches reach out to her as a broad-leaf tickles her ankle gently. Without hesitation, Brittany being such the nature enthusiast, she smiled and leaps over to her suitcase and scrambles for paper and a pencil before reclaiming her seat at the window. She immediately starts sketching down the green giant in front of her and does so for the next few hours. It's heaven to Brittany; just sitting excluded, drinking in the wilderness around her and not having the urge to move at all.
It's late afternoon and Santana is spent. The humidity coats a gleam over her skin as she lies defeated on the school playing field with her head down in the grass. Eight-hundred meters, one-hundred sit ups and endless stretches later and she was the subject of a hair commercial; weak, limp and lifeless and it wasn't the fucking decathlon team! Meanwhile, a couple of feet away, Quinn lies in a ball, wheezing out curse words and practically deep-throating her water bottle.
"You both have about as much energy as the battery in my left hearing aid! Get out of my sight!" Coach Sylvester spits through the microphone and Santana is up first, ready to cut the first person who gets in her way and scuffs past Quinn who dangles her hand in the air, waiting for Santana to pick her up but instead, she is left hanging.
The girls head for the locker rooms and thankfully, people manage to stay out of their way. When either Quinn or Santana have a face like Fizz or look like the worlds about to end, it was advised to not even make eye contact as they were like a walking time bomb. Last year around the same time before Nationals, Quinn had sprained her ankle which meant Santana got the advantage of becoming Head Cheerleader. She was so furious that she pushed a freshman girl to the floor, grabbed her by the pigtails, called her 'Amanda' the little slave dog and dragged the poor girl across the floor like a floor mop – all because the freshman girl looked at her in the wrong way. Santana on the other hand, was more verbal than physical.
"I'm not coming over tonight; I'm going to the celibacy club with Finn instead." Quinn tells Santana, ruffling her damp hair with a towel as the two girls cool off in the locker rooms.
"In other words, you're gonna screw his brains out?"
"Of course!" Quinn's smile was devilish and Santana just shakes her head. "You should totally invite Puck over instead, I'm sure he'd love to watch or tastesome of that sweet valley high..."
"Hmm, I don't think so. If I do anymore kind of 'push ups' today, I might permanently damage myself." Santana quotes before slamming her locker door shut.
"Whatever, enjoy your walk home." Quinn winks as she slams her locker door shut, leaving Santana perched on the bench to sulk about her long journey home.
It's been several hours and Brittany hasn't inched away from her spot on the window ledge at all. Her attention left the tree after she finished sketching it up and she set her mind on the sun instead. As the fiery ball sinks further into the night, it leaves the sky washing into a canvas of pink and purple gradients but the tight sensation that pulls in her stomach makes Brittany realise that she'd have to move soon to get something to eat. She stretches and yawns before hopping down from her place and makes her way to the landing at the top of the stairs but stops when she hears the sound of an unfamiliar voice.
"And if you need any help at all with the unpacking, please just let me know. I'm only next door after all." Another woman speaks in a raspy tone.
"Thank-you very much, Anita. It's greatly appreciated and I'm sure that we will love the lasagne!" Brittany's mother chirps. Brittany ponders for a moment before deciding that it wouldn't be such a good idea after all to search for food at that moment and turns away to walk back. Introductions were the epitome of awkwardness for Brittany.
"Ah! Brittany! Come down here and meet your new neighbour," Too late. Brittany grinds her teeth and takes a breath before facing back around and descends down the stairs slowly, keeping her gaze to the floor. When her foot hits the carpet of the next step, her anxiety starts to kick in; her heart beats a little faster and her palms become a little sweatier. She stops at the bottom of the stairs and raises her head, making eye contact with her neighbour. The woman has a hard face and probably looks a lot older than she should. Yet she attempts to hide any trace of stress which may have burdened her throughout the years with coats of make-up and is consumed by ponging fragrance that burns at Brittany's nostrils. The likely-hood is that this woman is rich even though she appears slightly try-hard when she smiles through a full set of white veneers to Brittany who returns the smile coyly.
"You must be Brittany... I've heard a lot about you." Anita tries to sound sincere but the tone contradicts with her fake, 'welcoming' smile. The strange woman's eyes roam up and down Brittany like an insect – a way in which the girls back in St. Mary's would look at her and Anita tilts her chin up to confirm that she has made her judgment: she doesn't like Brittany and Brittany sees it straight away; her imperfections were already being picked out by a stranger – like always because her mother must have brought up the Asperger's already. It wasn't her fault that some people were ill-informed and thought those with the condition were practically robots; but it still hurt. Brittany's smile suddenly fades as she looks at Anita densely causing Anita to furrow her brows slightly.
"You know, Anita has a daughter the same age as you, Brittany. Her name is Santana," Grace courage's Brittany who now has her head hung while she scuffs her foot against the cold, marble ground in an awkward manner. "Maybe you both could hang out sometime?"
"Well, she is head cheerleader and competing in Nationals soon so she does have a very tight schedule; barely has anytime for her real friends!" Anita nervously laughs. Brittany doesn't react; in fact she looks completely apathetic for what Judge-McFucking-Juggernaut had to say and immediately, the atmosphere turns tense. "Speaking of my little girl, I must leave to make her dinner. Wonderful meeting both of you!" Anita exclaims and gives Grace a faux-kiss on the cheek and a nod towards Brittany before skipping out the front door.
"I don't like her." Brittany instantly declares was the door closes. Grace scoffs and pats her daughters shoulder, making sure her hand only touches the material of her shirt.
"Well you're just gonna have to because she's your neighbour and I'm sure Santana will make time for you. Maybe she'll show you around your new school and what the kids like to get up to here," Grace was always very positive when it came to Brittany; with her father working around the world she was her main support and had to set an example. "And what did we say about trying a little harder to let people in?" Grace sighs while dishing out the lasagne as they move to the dining area. "Now eat, I could hear your belly rumble all the way from your room." Brittany lolls her head, drags out a chair before dropping herself down and scrapes the lasagne idly into her mouth.
It's twilight now and the air is a lot cooler, Santana struggles through the final steps from her gruelling run and heaving, she flails on to the grass on her front lawn and takes long, deep breaths, wheezing out erratically. Sticky, sweaty and sickly, she gulps down the fresh air to help clean out her lungs while staring up to the sky in a tired gaze. As she starts to relax her eyes become heavy as she feels the calm air now, soothing her. She could pass out right there and then if she wanted to, but the only thing stopping her was how hungry she is and if her mom had to carry out one good trait, it was that she was a divine cook.
However, it isn't the food that catches her attention in that moment; it's the distant melody coming from next door. Curious, Santana snaps her eyes open and faces the direction of the music. They narrow as she tries to listen intently but unfortunately, the breeze is too strong and it drowns the song, carrying the lullaby into the trees. Determined to figure the source of music, she finds the strength to gather herself to her feet and limps towards the music before she stops at the side of her house. Underneath her bedroom window, she stars up at the window opposite where white curtains dance along with the music as a bright glow from the inside light consumes the room, verifying that the house was no longer vacant. The lyrics sing;
'Ten years before my time,
I sang a song to a friend of mine,
about a girl working for a dime.
I didn't know that gypsy girl
but I knew about her kind of thrill,
Her love was cheap and always up for sale'.
Santana recognises the song immediately, it was a song that he used to sing to her when she was younger; her father. She should feel angry after he walked out, but she never did. Instead, the song relights fond memories of when she was a child; a time when Santana Lopez was felt fearless without making others feel fearful. It was a time when she was free. Santana gazes up at the window in awe, reminiscing about her relationship with her father and grins from cheek to cheek. For a slight moment, the exhausted yet ecstatic cheerleader feels a tingle of exemption that she hadn't felt in so long before it's shaken off by the sound of her mother calling her to dinner.
"Complete airhead, bimbo, nutter next door, I must say!" Anita complains over dinner. "I mean, Grace, sure she's very sweet; maybe a bit of a perfectionist but her daughter is something else. She didn't even want to know me! Barely looked at me! I mean, do I come across as someone who wants to rob your grandmother?" The clash and clang of the fork against the Russian bowl set became as annoying as her mother's whinging thirty minutes ago. "Oh but that's okay, because you know why? She has a freakin' disorder... Autism or something. Well, honey; I don't think there's such thing as a disorder for ignorance. Totally barbaric."
"I'm sure she feels the exact same way about you." Santana rolls her eyes, lifting herself from the table. It was amazing to Santana how every single day over dinner, her mother would find something to rant on about. Yesterday her mom couldn't believe that the woman at the grocery store short changed her, calling the old lady mathematically challenged in front the staff and customers. At least Anita got an extra pack of lavender scented candles and a buy one get one free gift card for her next purchase. Fucking cheapskate.
"I don't want you anywhere near that one at school, you hear me?" Anita demands and Santana just chuckles.
"When do I ever give anylow lives the time of day?" She holds her smirk, content that her mother didn't realize the ambiguity of her statement.
Burnt-out and sore, Santana drags her feet across her bedroom floor making her way across to the open window. She hears the music from next door again but this time it's a beautiful piano arrangement, perfect to send someone off to sleep into the land of rainbows and unicorns or in Santana's case, god damn peace. Santana peeks past her curtains and observes the room opposite hers which contrasts magnificently to the dark, bold style that she called her pad. It definitely belonged to a girl; clothes carpeted the floor in gaudy colours and boxes were left unpacked as well as speckles of feminine touches being placed around the room in an unorganized manner. Santana purses her lips and keeps the room in view as undresses in front of her widow, like she did every night.
"Now, are you sure you have everything ready for school tomorrow?" Grace sings while clearing the dishes. Brittany twiddles her fingers deep in thought.
"My lunch pack is waiting in the refrigerator. Two sandwiches, one consists of peanut butter and the other is chicken salad with extra cucumber. I put the beetroot the plastic container and I made sure that it was perfectly sealed. I don't want it spilling out on me and staining my shirt. The apple slices and grapes have been washed. Twice. The strawberry yogurt isn't in the pack at the moment, just in-case it leaks in the bag so I need to remind myself to put that in tomorrow..." Brittany faces up, nodding her head as she goes through her list. Grace stops washing and faces her with a slight smile.
"My clothes!" She points her index finger. "My clothes are ready. They are ironed and folded neatly. My gloves are on my bedside table but I wont be wearing the leather gloves just in-case it's hot out like today. I'm wearing my yellow wellington boots tomorrow; it might rain. I'm all showered and my hair is brushed. I just need to brush my teeth now." she gives one last satisfied nod and slides across the kitchen floor in her pyjama one-piece to hug her mom good night. The hug is stiff but she pours as much love into the embrace as she can to show the appreciation for her mother's patience. At least she was always able to show every side to Brittany for her mother.
"Just relax, and enjoy tomorrow, okay? It's my first day at work too." Grace smiles.
"I love you, mom. Good night." The do-eyed, fresh faced girl blows a kiss and disappears up the stairs before shouting back; "AND I NEED TO TAKE MY MEDS BEFORE BED!" Grace snorts and shakes her head. "AND IN THE MORNI-IIII-ING!" Brittany's echo travels around the house.
"Good night Brittany!"
Brittany skips into her room and lets the final song fade out before turning the docking station off. She inhales a deep breath, closing her eyes and lets the scent of fresh paint and the new aroma outside consume her. There's complete silence and she is lost in a hypnotic state.
'Now gypsy lady lost her soul
And she's so scared of growing old...'
Wait a minute? Brittany jolts up from the familiar lyric. A voice that was different from the male vocalist she was used to was singing her favourite song. It was a girls voice which was warm like whiskey and sharp like shells. The style of the melody creeps up on Brittany, leaving a trail of hair standing at attention on her arms. She whips her head around, trying to find the unfamiliar voice of the soulful singer.
'But words don't age for me to turn to gold.'
There it was again and this time Brittany dashes to her window. In her peripheral vision she finds the girl to the voice. It was Santana, the girl next door. She sits on her window ledge in the same way Brittany had been positioned at her window earlier that day and rubs lotion into her tan legs as her damp hair cascades down her naked back. Even though there was only a towel wrapped over her front and bottom, the Latina girl wasn't fazed about it at all as if it was a normal routine for her to sit at her window half naked. Brittany can't believe it as she watches with wide eyes and a gaping mouth. Someone else knew her song. She moves closer to listen to Santana more clearly and props her elbows on the open window-sill with her head resting on her hands.
Santana was surprised that she was even singing out loud. It started in the shower and kept going all the way back into her bedroom. That same old song she used to love so much and still loved but inexcusably forgot about was all she could think of. Sitting in the spot, she lets the air brush past as it dries her skin while she sings carelessly and it makes her feel at peace again. She's embraces the moment so much that other people begin to sing with her; a fragile, angelic voice accompanies the harmony as they both sing out:
'Gypsy girl with raven hair...'
Santana abruptly stops but the other voice continues to sing out the melody.
'Holds my hope into the air.
She's the one that never seemed to care.'
There's a silence afterward as, one voice waits for the other. Brittany opens her eyes, wondering why her singing partner has stopped but is greeted with a mystified glare from Santana instead as she holds her mouth aghast. This unbalances Brittany as her elbows start to wobble while her cheeks burn up in a heated flush. The look wasn't disdainful, just full of puzzlement.
Santana jumps mere seconds later from the ledge, shielding herself with the curtain and Brittany mirrors her.
"What... What the hell are you doing?" Santana yelps out. Brittany clenches onto the thin fabric of her own curtain as she hides behind it, revealing only the top of her head to see.
"Singing," She replies innocently and Santana frowns in confusion.
"Well... I can see that!" Her tone is accusing but Brittany doesn't catch on to what she has done wrong.
"I… I just wanted to sing along with you, that's all" Brittany ducks her head uncomfortably, setting her gaze on a hair scrunchie on the floor.
This girl was like nothing at all like what Santana had imagined her to be. From her mother's description, she expected Brittany to be the ugliest, greasiest and most bitter keyboard gangster that ever trolled the internet. So she was surprised to see Brittany being the complete opposite; her hair gleamed blonde under the sunset, she had an acute bone structure with striking features with exotic looking eyes and basically looked like a damn supermodel.
Santana holds her towel protectively and juggles the options of what to say or do but can't help the sinking feeling of envy towards this girl. She was so, so pretty. So Santana does what she does best; she makes sure that she was the superior of all superiors and locking her chocolate brown eyes back on the blonde, she waits for her to make contact then dips her head when Brittany looks back and smirks before glancing through her thick lashes.
"Where you looking at me... Like that?" Santana breathes an octave lower than normal, enjoying the flustered look on Brittany's face. Her cheeks become more pink as her eyes bat around nervously in every direction.
"Uh... I... I don't..." Brittany bites her bottom lip as a crease forms between her brows.
"You know..." Santana pops out from behind the curtain, holding the towel with one hand and grins. Brittany peeks at her again and her eyes immediately fall on her body causing Santana raise a brow mischievously. "Like you want to see what's behind this towel?" Santana loosens her grip a little, letting the cloth slide slightly down her shoulders. "Do you want to see what's behind this towel, Brittany?" She hisses now. She licks her lips and the towel glides down her arms now. Brittany breaks eyes contact again and turns to face her bedroom door away from Santana.
"I don't want to see what is behind the towel." Brittany strains. "I just wanted to listen to your voice. I think it's beautiful and I wanted to sing along with you." She doesn't even attempt to turn back around to shut her window. Instead, she glides away into the darkness of her room.
Santana stands at her window and waits to see if she returns. She doesn't.
"Well, fuck me." She whispers to herself as she furrows her eyebrows. Santana Lopez had just been upstaged for the first time by a girl who had been treated as an inferior her entire life.
End of Chapter I
So there is is! The first chapter of many. I haven't been inspired to write FF in a long time but I love Brittana too much not to. I have a really good idea where this story is going so I hope you will enjoy it as much as I do. Reviews; inluding critical responses are always appreciated!