As much as I hate to finish this fic, it had to come to and end at some point. I've really really really loved writing this, and considering the feedback from all you guys, it's been pretty damn easy too aswell!

Thank you guys! Love you, as always!

Please enjoy and review!


WARNING: HEYA FIC NOT BRITTANA!

Summary: Naya reads HeMo's interview from Fitness magazine. A short fic about her reaction, and the aftermath of it.

Rating: T

Words: 5829

Disclaimer: I don't own anything to do with Glee, let alone the wonderful cast. This isn't true, and it's just an idea (unfortunately).


And They Say Reading Is Good For You:
Chapter Ten

Heather's face burned into Naya's brain, like a little clip, the image of the blonde mouthing I'm sorry from the bottom of the tunnel, clutching her baggage and walking away from the Latina tugged at her fragile heart, pulling her frail heartstrings and tearing apart her soul.

She doesn't cry as she walks out of LAX Airport, wrapping her arms around her small frame and hugging tightly. She imagines the arms to be Heather's, but it doesn't bring anymore comfort to her as she wonders how everything just got so fucked up.

Several flashes appear around her, but she doesn't even both to look up as microphones are shoved in front of her face and pictures are taken of her fragile state. Instead, she pushes past the several bodies and out the sliding glass doors, arriving at her Range Rover which is still horribly parked inside a taxi cab waiting lane.

Naya climbs in, shutting the door and blocking out every photographer and journalist just itching to get the gossip on her brash actions as she sprinted through the airport, demanding entrance without a ticket. She doesn't even know if anyone witnessed her and Heather's exchange, and at the moment, she really couldn't care less. Luckily, the tinted windows block anyone snapping a pic as she turns on the engine with weak arms and slowly drives off through the LA traffic.

The journey is slow and treacherous, several billboards with Glee promotions with the love of her life pasted on them, seem to appear more than regularly and Naya exhales heavily, feeling the weight on her chest crush her brittle heart just that little bit more as images of Heather race through her mind.

As she slumps further into her chair, edging the tiniest bit forward in the crowded traffic, she thinks about her sudden rush to the airport, like she was in some crappy chick flick, ready to tell the girl of her dreams how madly she in love with her she is. And how the woman smiles brightly, returning the exclamation with eternal devotion and a kiss that would cause emotion explosions and aching hearts, making the audience wish they had that.

However for Naya, her movie certainly didn't play out the way she hoped. She'd wished that Heather would declare her love for her, tell her Taylor was a thing of the past and that she'd always known about the Latina's feelings, because she'd felt them too. But instead, the brunette had been greated with an apologetic expression and heart breaking words. Not exactly what she'd planned out.

The thought of this just made Naya's face contort into a depressed expression, and chest deflate in defeat as the heartache pounded against her decrepit organ once more.

So much for my happy ending.


Before she knew what she was doing, the Latina had exited a convenience store armed with a bottle of Smirnoff Vodka and pack of 20 Marlboro Reds. She'd traded in her usual Newport Lights for something she knew would damage her physically, as her emotions were pretty much shot to hell.

If I'm gonna do it, might as well be thorough. She thought to herself as she climbs back into the car. Purchasing the items had completely passed her mind, and as she revved the engine again, heading back to the set, reality set in and her phone buzzes. She see's Agron flash on the LCD screen, and presses the red button, screening the call.

Naya pulls into the Paramount parking lot, and returns her car to her alloted space next to her trailer. She watches a flash of blonde and brown hair walk across the set, clutching hands and laughing sweetly together. Her heart sinks even further than before as she realises it's Lea and Dianna.

Lea got her girl then, she thinks as she lets out a breath she didn't know she was holding.

She climbs out the car, grabbing the brown paper bag containing the liquor and cigarettes, and heads to her trailer where a note is stuck to the door.

Naya, scene at 8:15 with Karen. Be there.
Ian.

The Latina furrows her eyebrows at the name, but then realises she's the 'new Brittany'. Naya sighs and blinks several times, wishing the unshed tears away as they brim against her dark brown orbs as she knows no-one could ever replace the beautiful, cheery blonde that managed to lighten even her darkest of days.. She manages successfully and takes in a deep breath, feeling the oxygen reaching every crevice of her strangled lungs, yanking painfully in the process.

Her body feels numb, she can see the wind blowing gently against the trees, and the tiny drops of rain drip down her trailer door as they escape the heavens - but she can't feel them as the weather impact her body.

Her chest feels empty, like a part of her is missing. And she knows, a part of her is missing. Everyone knows that her and Heather were always a two shot, they were always together, on screen and off, and in the last few weeks, the relationship they'd built up over the past few years had been torn down by a stupid magazine article.


She steps into set shivering, and she notices the goosebumps covering every inch of her tanned arms. Surely, this means she should be cold, but the empty feeling overrides it, and once again she feels nothing. The bald director walks up to her, scowling as he takes in the brunettes appearance and says something to her, which completely misses Naya's attention as he nudges her towards the make-up room.

After Gina, her make-up artist roaming over her face, coating it in foundation and mascara, she's pushed into the changing room and dressed in a Cheerios outfit. Then she's led back onto the set where a blonde with ugly bluey/green eyes is staring at her with a large grin, standing idley by one of the cameramen, scanning over her script.

"Naya! Hey!" She shouts as she waves frantically, the Latina forces a smile and somehow, her feet manage to take her in the direction of the 'choir room'.

"Hi." She croaks out, not wanting to be rude.

The blonde smiles, and Naya feels her heart tug as she realises things are never going to be the same again, not without her.

"We've got a scene in a few minutes."

Naya nods and checks her phone which reads 8:13. She forces another weak smile and brushes past her, taking a seat and hunching over in her frozen state. She wraps her arms around her legs as her knees are brought up to her chest, and she leans her chin on her trembling kneecaps.

"Nay?" A voice calls, the Latina glances up slowly, taking in the figures of Lea and Dianna and she looks back down. "Hon?"

Lea leans forward and brushes her palm against the Latina's olive shoulder, which shys away under the touch. "Naya?"

The brunette darts up, taking in the concerned and worried expressions of her two best friends. As they examine the broken Latina, their faces both morph simultaneously into an apologetic/sympathetic expression. They take a quick glance at each other before taking a seat either side of Naya and wrapping her into a tight embrace.

This takes away the last ounce of strength restraining the tears and the Latina allows the salty droplets to leak out of her eyes.

"S-She doesn't w-want m-me." She sputters as the tears pour out.

The embrace tightens and Dianna presses a soft, comforting kiss to Naya's temple, "You don't have to talk about it babe."

Naya nods and continues to sob as the mascara runs down her cheek. Her two best friends continue to hug her until another presence is known. The Latina looks up and catches a glance of the masculine face, pasted with the same concerned and worried expression the blonde and brunette beside her were sporting minutes ago.

"Naya, I think you need to go home. Forget the scene today." He says sympathetically, resting his palm on top of the Latina's shaking forearm.

She swallows some of the tears and tastes sadness as it bites on the back of her tongue, "B-But, Ry-Ryan a-an-and I-Ian-"

"I'll deal with them. Just, please, go home Naya."

Naya smiles weakly, whimpering as he leans down and presses a kiss to her forehead. She's not entirely sure if everyones aware of her reasons behind the sobbing, but considering she's never broken down on set before, (it's always been in the comfort of her trailer), it wouldn't be that hard to see how troubled and hurt she is.

So she nods, still crying and allows her two best friends to loosen their grip, but continuing to hold her as they wrap an arm each, around her shoulder.

"O-Okay." She sniffs as Lea and Dianna smile sadly at the director, who gives them a nod in response.

The Latina can feel her eyes swelling and puffing with each tear, but she doesn't care as she's guided into Naya's Range Rover and driven off into the streets of LA, with her head in Lea's lap in the backseat.

Every now and then she manages to clear the recurring blur from her eyelids, and watches the loving yet sad gaze between the two actresses whose happy ending clearly came to. This only causes more whimpers and sobs to escape her broken chest and she buries her head deeper into Lea's jean-cladded thighs.

Within ten minutes, she's being helped into her apartment by Dianna who whispered to Lea to park the car in the underground lot. The blonde leads her in the foyer, glaring off any questioning faces and heads to the elevator. When the door pings, Naya assumes their at her floor and is left to temporarily lean against the wall crying, as Dianna unlocks the door.

A click on the door is the only thing to notify the Latina the doors opened and she turns to the blonde who's motioning for her to enter the apartment. She darts her gaze between the dark apartment and Dianna, before flickering quickly over her shoulder to Lea who's carefully walking up behind the two women.

She brings her hand up to her face, wiping the mascara smudges off her cheek and onto her trembling skin before standing straight.

"I'm good."

Her two best friends share a disbelieving look as their lace their fingers together and stare at the Latina, raising the same eyebrows with curiosity. "Nay, you know that's not true."

"Please." Naya pleads, as she shakes her head slowly. "I need to be alone."

Lea squeezes Dianna's hand, and manages to shake her out of her knowing stupor before leaning in to her ear. Naya doesn't hear what the brunette says, but the blonde nods and smiles sadly at the Latina. "Okay Nay."

The Latina returns the depressing smile and glances down to the brown paper bag Lea's clutching. "Can I?"

The brunette looks down to the bag and back up to the taller brunette who's almost begging her for the contents. "Sure Nay."

Naya feels her heart squeeze painfully as she recieves two hugs from her best friends, and watches them walk down the hall hand in hand, happy. Images of her blonde pop into her head and she scrunches up her face in an agonising twist, feeling her stomach and heart mimick the movement.

She pushes fully off the wall and slumps towards the open door, grasping the brown paper bag concealing the items she needs to wash away even the tiniest bit of pain that's currently torturing her body. Before the door's even shut, she's grabbed the packet of cigarettes and opened the bottle of vodka, swigging it heavily and allowing it to slide down the back of her throat, burning it in the process.

The Latina winces and throws down her keys, which apparently she'd had in her hand and they land with a loud thud on the hardwood floor. She examines her dark apartment, squinting as she notices how lonely she really is, and the throb returns, beating harder than usual. She can feel herself being dragged down, and before her back hits the wall and she slides down it, she takes another large gulp of the liquor and twists her head, clicking it in the process.

Naya pushes off the wall, not bothering with the light as she realises seeing herself highlighted definitely wouldn't do her any good. So instead she unwraps the plastic off the cigarettes and takes one out, feeling the alcohol take effect on her body as she sways slightly. She braces herself by pressing her hand against the back of the sofa, and places the cigarette in between her dry lips and lets it sag as she heads towards the balcony.

She passes the kitchen island, bumping her hip against it painfully on the way as she can't see where she's going due to the lack of light, until she reaches the sliding glass doors. Her free hand finds their way to the lock and click it open, allowing the cool LA breeze flow into her apartment. The Latina steps out into the evening air and closes her eyes, glancing up to a plane flying overhead. Her heart tugs painfully once more and she rests her head back as far as it can go, wishing internally she had Heather in her arms right then and there.

The brunette digs inside her pockets, in search of a lighter, and to her disappointment she doesn't have one. So she steps back into the apartment, slamming her foot down a little harder than necessary and approaches her kitchen. She rummages through the drawers, pushing Chinese menus and corks with a quarter lodged into it, around, remembering Heather's insistent nagging that doing so would bring the Latina luck.

With another heavy pressure push against her chest, she finds a box of matches and grabs them, before turning around to head towards the apartment. She steps to the side of the island, so she's half in the living room and half out of it when something catches her eye.


Naya narrows her eyes, leaning her head forward to focus on the thing and her heart stops temporarily. She swallows heavily and realises what it is, causing the bottle to slid out of her hand, and crash into a thousand pieces on the floor, whilst her mouth drops slack, and the cigarette follows the liquor, joining it on the floor. Her shoulders sag and she gazes at piercing blue eyes that are staring back at her, which almost seem illuminated in the darkness of the apartment.

"H-he-hea-" She sputters, watching the eyes rise from their position in the corner of the darkened apartment where one of her sofa's lay. She closes her eyes and shakes her head, knowing how painful it's going to be when she wakes up from the dream, and that the shorter the dream, the shorter the agony.

The dancer steps into the centre of the room, clasping her hands together in front of her and bitting her lip nervously as the moonlight highlights her body.

"Naya." She whispers, squeezing her eyes shut as a single tear drops out of her right eye.

The Latina's heart clenches at the realisation that the dancer is really there and she stumbles backwards into the doorframe of the kitchen. The blonde takes a step forward instinctively, reaching out as if she's going to steady the Latina when Naya raises one hand in a 'stop' motion.

"What-" She punctuates her sentence with a gulp and turns to stare into deep, cerulean eyes, "What are you doing here?"

Heather ignores the brunettes hand and takes a few steps forward, batting away the hand with her own and allowing her fingertips to linger over the olive skin a little longer than needed. She opens her mouth to respond to Naya's question when the Latina interrupts her,

"You're supposed to be on a plane to London. You're supposed to have left by now." Naya says, clenching her jaw as she steps across the broken glass and into the living room.

The dancer takes a tentative step forward, joining the Latina until she's left about two metres between the two women. She dips her head, examining the space in between them which is filled with unspoken words and broken emotions and allows another tear to escape. Naya's guts twist as she restrains the urge to comfort the blonde. She watches as Heather's throat rises and falls as she swallows loudly.

"I know. But I just couldn't do it." Heather says finally, after the lengthy silence, which produced thousands of memories that burned into the Latina's mind.

"Why?"

The brunette watches Heather's chest inflate and deflate as she takes a deep breath, and steps forward, minimising the gap to about a metre wide. "Because of you."

"M-Me?" Naya repeats, feeling her chest lighten word by word.

Even though it wasn't a declaration of love, just the mere presence of the dancer was relieving some of the pressure that'd built up on her chest over the last few hours. Heather tilts her head to the side, taking in the full extent of her actions on the Latina as she examines the puffy, swollen, red rings surrounding Naya's broken, brown orbs and the blotched cheeks from some intense crying.

"Where have you been?" Heather asks, raising one eyebrow.

Naya stares incredulously at her, dropping her mouth into an 'o' shape. "Are you seriously asking me that?"

The dancer shrugs and nods, which the Latina scowls at, "On set. I've been on set."

"You've kept me waiting." Heather comments, twiddling with her thumbs as she intensely stares at them.

Naya raises both eyebrows, mulling over the statement in her head. "What?"

"I've been here for like an hour." The dancer says non-challantly, causing the Latina's to flip and twist with pain and butterflies simultaneously. "Did you know taking a specially hired helicopter from LAX to here takes about three minutes?"

The brunettes mouth drops, and she can feel her facial muscles aching at her changes in emotions. The anger is bubbling inside the pit of her stomach, but the butterflies are accompanying them, creating a mix of feelings which confuses Naya as she doesn't know how to react.

"That's what you have to say?" Naya questions, flipping her hands into the air and back down again with fury as a smile tugs at her lips. She turns her back to the blonde, not wanting her to see the conflict in her emotions.

"You get off a plane that's heading for London, just to tell me how long the fucking helicopter takes to get here!"

Heather flinches at the anger edging the brunettes tone, and burns a hole into the back of Naya's raven hair with her piercing azure orbs.

"No." She says strongly.

Naya turns and narrows her eyes, taking an angry step towards the dancer with her fists balled tightly into her side. "Then what Heather? I really don't have time for your mind games."

The dancer crooks her head to the side and narrows her eyes, glancing down to Naya's lips quickly and then back up to burning mocha orbs.

"You do an interview about how much you want babies and to marry Taylor, then you try to kiss me, then you freak out and scare the hell out of me and break my heart. Then we talk it out, you ignore me, I get my heart broken, again, and then suddenly you're engaged to him!"

By this time Naya's pacing around the small space surrounded by her sofa's that contains her and Heather, shaking her head and feeling every penetration as the painful memories escape her mouth.

"Then you decide to fucking move to London, with some bullshit excuse that you got a job offer there when there's absolutely nothing wrong with your current one, without telling me, which broke my heart even more."

"And to top it all off, I come to the fucking airport and basically confess my undying love for you, which you throw back in my face and then leave to get on the plane! Which ultimately ends up in me wanting to smoke and drown away my depression and you turn up in my fucking apartment, saying I've kept you waiting, and all you have to tell me is that it takes three fucking minutes to get from the fucking airport to my fucking apartment!"

Naya breathes out, not realising she'd said the whole thing without taking a single breath and she doubles over, spying the broken glass shards spread across the hardwood floor and she mentally curses herself for not putting the bottle down.

So not what you should be thinking about right now.

She glances up to see blue orbs staring at her, with a blank expression canvasing it. Naya narrows her eyes and clenches her jaw, watching the cogs turn in the blondes brain as she processes the Latina's words.

"No."

"No?" Naya repeats.

"No, that's not all I have to tell you."

The Latina straightens up and watches the dancer take a step forward, reaching out her pale hands and taking the brunettes, which unball at the simple touch. Naya closes her eyes slowly and inhales the heavenly scent of her best friend and feels it wrap around her heart, tightening, but not uncomfortably. The feeling is unfamiliar, but somehow not unexpected.

"Then what Hemo, because I really don't think I can take anymore pain."

The blonde licks her lips and brings their intertwined fingers up to the Latina's face, brushing away a lock that'd fallen somewhere in her little rant. She tilts the brunettes sunken face up, and stares her in the eyes, flickering between the two and seeing through the tears and deep into her soul.

"I'm in love with you Naya." She breathes. "And I know now, that I always have."

Naya inhales sharply, allowing a small gasp to escape her lips as she stares into bright blue eyes. She studies them closely, and see's the sincerity shading behind her favourite orbs and her heart smiles. Her mind is racing, her heart is pounding a thousands beats to a minute and she knows Heather can feel it, because a small smile graces the dancers face.

The Latina can feel her stomach flipping and heart fluttering, but there's a nagging feeling itching at the back of her throat, tugging on her heartstrings demanding for an explanation.

She pulls away from the blonde, backing up one step and creating a larger space between the two. Instantly Heather's face falls, and a questioning look covers her face. Naya can feel herself regretting the movement, knowing her body is yearning to be wrapped up inside the blondes, but her mind is yelling at her, and it's too loud to just pass by.

She dips her head, to stare at her hands whilst they're fiddling with the bracelet. Her heart smiles when she realises its the one Heather had given her on her 24th birthday. The strings on her heart tugs tighter, restricting the blood and causing it to faulter momentarily.

"Don't lie." Naya says, it comes out a little harsher than intended but she can feel the walls rising once again. In some ways playing Santana was perfect, because they were so alike in so many ways.

Heather shuffles her weight onto her right leg, and runs her palm up and down her arm in a self-soothing gesture. "I'm not."

"The article-"

"Was a lie." Heather interjects, the brunette can hear the honesty lacing her tone.

Naya immediately furrows her brows and narrows her eyes as she looks to the blonde with a silent question. The dancer takes a confident step forward and runs her hands down the Latina's tanned arms, until she reaches her fingers where she laces her own with them.

"Naya, I did have an interview with Fitness. That's true, but the words that journalist put in were a complete lie."

The Latina looks up to see a silent confirmation from the blonde for her to continue. Naya nods and dips her head once more.

"It was the weekend when we were at Chez Cherez in NY, out partying, do you remember? And I got a call from Louise,"

Naya tilts her head up and crooks her head to the side,

"You know, my publicist." Heather comments. Naya nods and licks her lips, and bares her ears for the dancers explanation.

The Latina remembered clearly because that was the time she saw Heather and Taylor grinding up against each other, and due to the free bar, from about 2am til 9am, she'd had her head hanging over the toilet. She shudders at the memory, but feels Heather's thumb rub reassuring circles on the back of her head, and she instantly relaxes.

"Anyway, I got a call from Louise when we got back to the hotel and apparently a journalist from Fitness called Patty Martinez wanted to interview me. Taylor started yelling at me and telling me that my job was more important than he was, and that wanted me to give up acting because it was affecting my relationship with him. I told him no, and he just went crazy. We argued for most of the night, and he decided to drop a bomb on me and tell me he wanted kids and that he wanted to marry me so bad."

Heather shuffles uncomfortably, as if she didn't want to be retelling the story. But instead she straightens her back and inhales deeply.

"I walked down to the lobby to find the journalist sitting in the brasserie, um Ca Va? I think it was. Anyway, I sat down next to her and I was completely exhausted, I could literally barely hold my head up. So I ordered a coffee, and all that and then she when she asked me why I was so low on energy, I didn't mean too, but I just splurted out that I'd been out partying and then stayed up all night because I was arguing with Taylor."

Naya breathes in deeply, wincing internally everytime his name left her perfect lips. She sniffs in, realising tears are starting to seep out the corner of her eyes, and she wipes them with the back of her own hand, which is still connected to Heathers.

"I tried to cover up by saying how mad I was at myself, and that it was just New York doing it to me and sleeping 10 hours every night for the next four days would probably make up for it. But then she literally started like pressuring me into talking about Taylor and what the argument was about. I barely had a clue what I was saying I was that tired, and I even forgot to swallow a mouthful of coffee I was that exhausted, and it ended up just dribbling down my chin."

The dancers lets out a small giggle, which Naya joins in with at the image. Heather sighs as she watches the Latina's face crinkle and she leans forward, pressing a kiss to the brunettes forehead. Naya looks up and realises just how close their faces are, their noses nearly brushing and hot breath blanketing each others faces. Naya feels the overwhelming urge to decrease the space, and let their lips do the talking, but her heart tugs, knowing it wouldn't be the best idea.

They're staring deep into each others eyes, mocha brown swirling with cerulean blue and just for a few seconds, they forget everything as the adoration becomes present in both set of eyes. Heather pulls away, clearing her throat, and Naya knows as much as she'd like to completely forget about the conversation and do what they've both been itching to do for so long, ever since the first time, the dancer's doing the same thing.

"Naya, the journalist complete twisted my words, and I guess it elicited the reaction she'd hoped for considering the uproar of all our fans."

The Latina narrows her eyes, almost scalding herself for knowing that everything she'd been through had been because of some stupid journalist twisting Heather's words. She looks up into bright blue eyes, once again asking for allowance to continue, which she nods too.

"Nay, I haven't been in love with Taylor for such a long time and I can't remember the last time he gave me the feeling you do whenever we touch, I can't remember the last time I actually wanted to see him. And I hate myself for hurting you the way I did, and I know I shouldn't have tried to make it work with him when I knew my heart just didn't belong there anymore. But the fact is,"

Heather punctuates by releasing one of their hands and tilting the Latina's chin up to gaze deeply into each others eyes once more,

"Is that my heart has has belonged with you for longer than I can remember. I love you Naya. I just... love you."

The dancer shrugs and breaks the eye contact by looking down at their perfectly fitting hands. She watches Heather as the blue orbs scan their fingers, marvelling at how they just clicked together, in every sense of the word. It was as if their hands were moulded around each other, the spaces fitted the dancers slender fingers perfectly, as if they're soulmates.

Naya can't help but feel elated by the electricity flowing in her chest. She can feel her heart swelling with the dancers words as they repeat themselves over and over again. She tries to summon anything in her mind as a response, the words muddle up and twist into so many different sentences it's almost overwhelming.

The brunette knows this is the moment in one of those movies where she should respond with some type of declaration, explaining how much she really loves Heather. But when the words come to her, she almost kicks herself at how simple they really are.

She glances up to lock eyes with worrying blue orbs, and lips that are being bitten down on nervously when she allows the corners of her mouth to curl up into a small smile.

"I love you too." Naya responds.

Heather grins and the Latina reaches up, bringing their clasped hands to the blondes cheek where she brushes a loose curl behind the dancers ear, leaving her olive fingers to linger across the soft, silky skin. Heather leans into the touch and closes her eyes slowly, and this moment feels like the definition of perfect to the Latina.

"Heather" Naya whispers breathlessly, the dancer opens her eyes.

The Latina inhales deeply, and she watches as Heather mimicks the movement. The brunette pulls the other womans body closer, pressing them flush together as their noses brush. The dancer can hear the quivering gasp escaping the smaller woman's lips and she takes this as a confirmation for the much needed action running through both of their brains.

Naya feels the blonde lean forward, allowing their noses to brush once more before Heather ducks her head the tiniest bit, placing their lips at the same height. The Latina inhales slowly, allowing the intoxicating scent of her best friend to fill her lungs and she smiles weakly, closing her eyes as the blonde comes in the smallest bit closer.

The brunette feels the dancers lips to ghost over her own cautiously, and she slowly licks her lips, moistening them in order for what she knows is about to happen. She can feel the hesitation flowing off the blondes body, and Naya breathes in once more, closing in the distance and holding her lips to Heathers. She tastes the sweet and unique flavour she's been yearning for for all these years, she still remembers them from the first time, but something feels different about this kiss.

It's not like the last one, this one is brimming with emotions, it's something that movie endings are made of. She's in her own personal cliched chick flick and she doesnt' even care, this is the best part of the movie. The ultimate climax. Where everyone knows from here out, the love they share is going to overcome anything that blocks their path, because it's filled with such intensity and strength, and it's knocked down everything before.

Naya smiles into the kiss and parts her lips slightly, allowing Heather's to slide in between hers and she sucks lightly, earning a moan from the blonde. Their hands release and Naya wraps her arms around the blondes waist, pulling them together tighter as their mouths move in sync, rellishing in each others flavour. The Latina can feel the blonde smile as the corners of her lips turn up, but she tilts her head, deepening the kiss as the long, slender fingers tangle in dark raven hair, securing their faces together.

It's like nothing else Naya's ever experienced, she's had plenty of practice, but no-one has ever made her feel this way. It's like there are never ending shocks sparking inside her nerves, allowing jolts of power to serge through her body and flow into the blonde. They've clicked emotionally and physically, joining in every way humanly possible. It's like a never ending circle, the electricity passes between the two as their heads tilt, allowing even more access to each others lips.

Naya can feel the blondes heart pounding under the touch, and a perfect tongue sweeps against the inside of her bottom lip, seeking entrance which the Latina gladly accepts. Within seconds their tongues meet, massaging one another in a rhythm that seemed rehearsed, it was that easy. It was so simple kissing Heather, and she questions herself wondering why they hadn't been doing it all along. It isn't like they needed more proof, but this would definitely be strong evidence that they were soul mates, that they were meant to be.

The brunette can feel the future being planned ahead, she can see public events and signs saying 'I knew all along'. She can see the grins on everyones faces as they marvel at the two women who are so obviously head over heels in love with each other, finally get their happy ending.

They stand, kissing for several minutes until they have to part for oxygen. Heather slides her hands around the Latina's neck, and rests their foreheads together before cupping her cheeks and placing a sweet, soft peck to Naya's lips.

"This is it, you know." Heather whispers, her eyes burning adoringly into Naya's gleaming coffee ones. "Me and you. No-one else. No complications."

Naya feels her heart inflate once again, she didn't think it was humanly possible to feel this good without some type of illegal narcotic. She nods, rolls her forehead against the blondes gently and giggles lightly.

"This is it. Me and you. Forever." Naya replies, kissing the tip of the dancers nose gently before returning back to their original position.

Heather grins and bits down on her bottom lip, tasting the trace of the Latina's unique taste on her lips."Forever and a day."

And their lips return as a confirmation of their love-laced words, where they'll inevitably stay for eternity.


The End!


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