I am literally so sorry for the wait on this update. I know it's been months and I can't actually believe I left it for so long. I won't make excuses, I just got caught up in my other fics and gave them my attention instead. But seeing as my other fics are coming to an end, I thought I should finish this one up too.
This will be the last chapter, and I've loved writing it, despite it being difficult for the majority of the time. You guys are awesome if you've even bothered to stick with me to read this. Truly amazing. You are the reason I write.
I know this is a short chapter, but I had zero inspiration and wasn't seeing any in the future either. So I did the best I could with what I had.
Anyway, thank you so much for reading and I hope you enjoy the final update!
Summary: Based off One Tree Hill relationship storyline. Santana moves to Lima after her mother's will demands so. What happens when high school gets a bit too complicated? AU.
Disclaimer: Absolutely nothing to do with the actual show. Completely separate. (unfortunately)
"You cannot run away from a weakness; you must sometimes fight it out or perish."
- Robert Louis Stevenson
"It's not what it looks like," Santana said, whipping her head between the two blondes.
Panic set through her veins, coursing and thumping and she could only plea with Brittany – hoping she'd see that despite appearances, and the smirk on Quinn's face, there was nothing going on from her side. Sure, Quinn had kissed her, but she didn't kiss back. She hoped to God Brittany would see that.
"So I'm just dreaming seeing you and Quinn kissing?" Brittany responded with a quivering bottom lip, and an arched brow. "And that you just have a really small shirt on?"
Santana glanced down immediately, eyes widening. She didn't have a shirt on. And her lips were just pressed against her ex-girlfriends. In her bedroom. Oh God, it looked so bad. "No, you did bu-"
"We're back together," Quinn chimed in, smirking and cocking her head to the side. "She just couldn't keep our hands off each other."
There was no way in hell Quinn would get away with this. A small whimper escaped Brittany's lips and Santana narrowed her eyes. Brittany wouldn't believe her, would she? Without a second more, the blue eyed blonde spun on her heels and darted out the bedroom door, eyes glossing over with unshed tears and flushed cheeks.
Santana wanted to chase after her. She wanted to push Quinn away from her and sprint down the stairs. But just as her foot moved, a hand wrapped around her wrist and tugged her back slightly violently, and if she were in a comic, steam would be blowing from her ears.
"What the fuck is wrong with you!" Santana hissed, snapping her head around towards her ex-girlfriend. "You're fucking delusional! We're not back together," she felt her upper lip snarl. "We'll never be back together, Quinn." Piping hot anger burned through her veins and she couldn't hold back everything she'd wanted to say. Everything she'd avoided saying because she knew exactly how harsh the words were. "I don't want you, anymore."
As soon as the words left her mouth she kind of regretted it. Not because it wasn't true, because yeah, it was. But because she could see the Quinn she fell in love with come out, eyes flashing with hurt and face crumple like she was about to cry. Feeling guilty, she offered out her hands sympathetically, hoping it would do something. There's no way it could make it worse. No harm in trying.
"Q... I-I'm so-"
"No." Quinn gritted out, shaking her head whilst a single tear trailed out her right eye.
Santana tried to convey an apology through her expression, because verbalising one just didn't seem to be working. But before she could even get it to etch across her face, Quinn was retreating towards the door, eyes locked with hers and a range of different emotions darkening the usually bright hazel.
"Fuck you." Was the last thing she heard before Quinn disappeared out the door in a similar manner Brittany did only moments ago.
Everything kind of just sunk away at that moment. Santana felt her legs weaken and her butt hit the mattress, spine sagging forward until her hands were pressed into her face. There wasn't even any use in trying to chase after either of them. She'd just simultaneously destroyed three people's feelings. Quinn's. Her own's. And most importantly, Brittany's.
There was nothing but hate between them now. The friendship Brittany and Quinn once had was fucked up, all because Santana couldn't keep it in her fucking pants. Couldn't keep her emotions and feelings in check. She'd come to this town with her family, in hope of gaining something, but really, she'd just lost more than what she came with.
Not to mention she'd screwed up a strong friendship.
Fuck. Maybe she should just leave.
The day after, Santana decided moping in her room wasn't exactly helping, so she went downstairs to see what was going on.
Mario was sitting at the kitchen table with Luis, grinning at whatever was playing on TV. Instantly, the older man looked up, concern etching across his face as he took in her state. Not exactly hard not too. She was in sweatpants, a baggy sweatshirt and she barely had an make up on.
Scratch that, she thought, glancing in the mirror to her life. She had no make up on.
"Santana, what's wrong?"
She shook her head, dragging her feet along the ground as she headed into the kitchen. Opening the fridge, she grabbed a bottle of water and took the cap off before heading back towards the stairs, in hope of going upstairs.
Of course, Mario wouldn't let her go that easily.
"Santana Marie Lopez," he tugged on her bicep, halting her movement. "Why do you look like someone just told you Olivia Wilde was straight?"
Even Mario's damp humour couldn't make a smile come to her face, so instead she turned around and sucked in a deep, shaky breath. There were so many things running through her head and she didn't know what to do. On one hand, all she wanted was a parental figure to hug and cry into their shoulder. But on the other hand, she didn't want to make their relationship any better. That wasn't something she could handle considering what she was about to say next.
"I want to move out of Lima."
Mario scrunched his eyebrows together, confusion, hurt and curiosity flicking across his face. "Why?"
Santana shrugged, toying with the label on her bottle. "I just don't want to be here anymore."
"And where would you go?"
She glanced up, brows shooting to her hairline because of all the things she was expecting (a yelling match, possibly a few violent phrases or maybe even getting her ass kicked out before she got her belongings packed) she was definitely not expecting an understanding Mario.
"You're going to let me?" She asked anyway, her voice increasing in pitch as the words came out her mouth.
Mario crossed his arms, face entirely unimpressed but there was a gleam on understanding in his features. "I have no hold over you, Santana. You're nearly an adult, you may do what you please. If I keep you here, you'll grow to resent me more."
"I don't rese-"
"No, Santana," he stepped forward, grazing his palm over her shoulder comfortingly. "It's your choice."
She contemplated for a second the words mulling over in her mind. There was no point in trying to argue, because she knew fully well that if Mario said she couldn't go, she'd only get more infuriating and kick off – up until the point where she would be unbearable to live with. If Santana knew one thing, it was how to get her way. Not in the spoilt child kind of way, but she just knew how to press people's buttons – even though it wasn't a skill she used often.
But now that Mario was saying that, she wasn't entirely sure she wanted to go. Something in the way he was pretty cavalier about her leaving kind of made her think he wanted her to go. Pretty stupid but it was just how she felt.
"I mean I have some money saved up," she thought back to her mother's will. "I might just rent a little place somewhere. Wouldn't cost too much as long as I chose the right area."
Mario nodded, sucking in his lips. "Of course. Well, if it's what you want, Santana, then I will support you."
She just stood there, wide eyed and managed a smile when Mario shot her an understanding expression and turned away. She was left to her thoughts as she stood alone in the foyer.
Santana took the week of school. Not for any particular reason. Well, apart from the fact she couldn't handle all the glares she knew she'd get. Several eye rolls had been made every morning at 7am when her alarm went off, and she just ended up shutting it off and burying herself back into the blankets to sleep.
Mario didn't question her either, only Luis said something, but she just shrugged it off, grabbed her bowl of Lucky Charms and headed back upstairs to her hermit cave of a bedroom.
She walked in on Monday with her headphones in because she really didn't want people to talk to her. There would be a flurry of questions about Quinn and Brittany and what happened. She was already getting several glances and practically hear the snide comments whispered under people's breaths (despite the headphones since apparently no-one in Lima knows about subtlety.) and she was only standing in the entrance. She hadn't even got as far as walking down the hallway, so she could only look forward to more of what was to come.
Ducking her head, she moved through the corridors, ignoring the judgemental expressions and shrugged her thumb further underneath the strap of her back pack. She was pretty sure she heard slut or stupid bitch muttered, but she was gone before she could turn around and react. People probably thought she was some type of whore or something. Dating Quinn, cheating with Brittany, then going back to Quinn (apparently) and crying when Brittany found out.
Really, people didn't even know the half of it.
She was about five steps away from her locker when she glanced up at the right (or wrong?) time. A jock, someone she didn't know, was walking straight for her, Slushy in hand and she barely had any time to react before the flavoured ice was dripping down her face. She'd never had that done before. And it wasn't something she wanted repeated.
It fucking hurt. Like, it may not have looked painful, but it was like getting hit in the kisser with a freakin' iceberg. Not to mention the corn syrup stung like a bitch when it seeped into her eyes.
Squeezing her eyes shut, and feeling her bag slip off her shoulder, she exhaled and tried to splutter out some of the strawberry flavouring. The corridor's echoed with chuckling, giggling and laughter from all the students, and she wanted to scream and yell. But considering she couldn't see, shouting in the wrong direction would just increase the humiliation.
Plus, there was no use in even trying to open her eyes. She'd learned from watching others get slushied, that the liquid just seeps in more and stings like a mother fucker if you try and open your eyes.
She felt someone near her, and instantly wanted to yell but instead, a hand wrapped around her wrist and she was being dragged away. Truthfully, she couldn't' really care who was holding onto her right now. They were getting her away from all the laughing and the idiotic comments the meat head jocks were coming up with. A combination of you got served in a 'blaccent' (black accent) and freeze you later.
She was merely aware of a door opening, and only moments later the scent of the overused perfume, a variety of different spray deodorants and strangely enough, make-up, wafted under her nose and she knew where she was. Girl's bathroom.
The person tugging her grabbed her bicep, stepping incredibly close and tilted her chin up to examine her slushy facial. It was also in that moment where she realised exactly who this person was and her whole body stiffened like someone poked her in the ass with a fork. She gritted her teeth, jaw clenching and tried to pull back, but another hand cupped the back of her skull and forced her to stay in place.
"Stay still," Brittany hissed lowly.
But Santana being Santana, she tried to rebel further, lifting her hands to grip at the limbs holding her face. "Just leave it, Brittany."
"No," Brittany stepped closer until their bodies were pressing together. Instinctively, Santana took a step back until there was nowhere to go as her butt hit the sink. Brittany just moved forward and practically pinned her to the damn thing.
"You don't want to do this," Santana said quietly. "So stop."
Even though it hurt, she knew Brittany didn't actually want to help her. Why would she? After all, it was only a few days ago she walked in on Quinn kissing Santana, and then everything fucked up further. There'd no texts, no calls in a whole week. Absolutely nothing to keep them talking. So as far she knew, Brittany was still pissed, still upset, and Santana was still alone.
"I do," Brittany's voice was lower and she released her grip, returning only seconds later with a towel to dab at Santana's face. "I don't want to see you get slushied."
Feeling the moisture being wiped off her eyes, she managed to crack them open, squinting when the corn syrup stung them. Brittany was impossibly close. All her freckles visible and eyes bright as they were about an inch away from Santana's face. A gasp caught in her throat and she felt her facial muscles falter.
It was pretty hard to be so close to something that really, she was so far away from.
"It's not your fault," Santana tried to reason. "That jackass who threw it, it's his fault."
Brittany frowned slightly, pursing her lips as she cupped the curve of Santana's jaw in one hand, and continued to wipe away at her hairline with the other one grasping the towel. She said nothing, only replying with a low hum of acknowledgement.
They stood there in silence for a few minutes, Brittany dabbing away the bright red slushy and Santana with her eyes trained on the curve of the blondes cheekbone, the dip above her lip, the glow of her pale skin and the sheer sparkle to her brilliantly blue eyes. She felt herself let out an exhale she didn't know she was holding and suddenly the movement on her face stopped.
"There's not much I can do about your shirt," Brittany shrugged, picking up the neckline of Santana's white tank top which was still drenched in drying, sticky, red liquid. "But I've got as much off your face as I can."
There were so many things she wanted to say. Ranging from thank you to Brittany I need you to I didn't kiss Quinn – but none of them really seemed all that effective. Nodding appreciatively, she tried a small smile and cleared her throat, standing up straight (after releasing her slouched position) and came eye to eye with the blonde, breath mingling in the minuscule gap between their lips.
In the back of her mind she kind of liked the height of her boots.
"Uh," she groaned, tasting Brittany's breath on her tongue. "Sorry."
Brittany's eyes flashed with something unrecognisable, before flickering down to pouty lips and back up. "San-"
Santana wasn't even entirely sure why the hell she'd decided in that moment. There was no reason. No thought process behind it, and sure as hell no intention of causing the hurt to etch its way across Brittany's face. She kind of wished she could take it back, but then again, it was going to have to come out at some point – might as well have been then.
"W-what?" Brittany crinkled her eyes, blue glossing over with unshed tears.
"I'm moving," Santana repeated, suddenly regretting her choice. She thought there was no point in staying. "Moving out of Lima."
Brittany took a step back, swallowing audibly. She looked so damn small and vulnerable it made Santana feel like she just kicked a puppy. "W-where too?"
"I don't know yet," Santana answered honestly. "Probably like Cincinnati or Boston. I have family there." Not entirely untrue. They were just more like family friends than actual family.
"Why?" Brittany asked through a long exhale, shoulders sinking and her entire demeanour falling.
Santana shrugged and tried to rack her mind for an answer. What was that sudden idea to move spurred by? Why was she doing it? Technically, she didn't need too. She just wanted too because she couldn't face her problems.
"Because I need too," she tried to tell herself that as well as Brittany. "There's not really any reason for me to stay, either."
She knew as soon as the words came out her mouth how they sounded. Brittany jerked back, almost like Santana had slapped her or something and instead of sinking into a small, vulnerable ball, she buffed out her shoulders and her face twisted with anger.
"So that's it?" Brittany started, voice rising. "You're just going to run away from your problems?" The blonde narrowed her eyes and took a cautious step forward, face etching with disbelief. "That doesn't work, Santana."
Santana pushed her tongue up against the back of her teeth, eyebrow cocking challengingly. "I find it does."
"Oh my God!" Brittany threw her hands into the air, before slapping them back down against her thighs. "What is your problem!"
That was all it took for Santana to snap. She'd been so good. But now it was like Brittany didn't want her to go, even though there had been no attempt at contact in a whole freakin' week, and now she had the audacity to come up and ask Santana what her problem was? The fucking cheek.
Feeling her breath grow shallower, and anger seeping through her veins, she shot up and clenched her fists. "You're my fucking problem, Brittany!"
Jerking her head back, Brittany's face fell. It didn't do anything to sway Santana's anger, though.
"You do all these fucking things that makes me think you like me. I come back into school, risking my life for you because I couldn't bare to even think of anyone touching, let alone hurting you, and there's nothing said. We have all these moments that neither of us bring up, but both of us know what they mean."
"I mean," she laughed at herself, pinching the bridge of her nose between her thumb and forefinger, "We fucking kiss," she turned around to face the mirror, glaring at the ceramic plug hole of the sink to quell some of the anger because it was just getting too much. "Several fucking amazing times, may I add and then I break up with my fucking girlfriend for you." That time she spun around and gritted her teeth, "Then we almost get somewhere, but you basically run off because you can't handle shit."
Brittany's mouth fell open, readying to say something but Santana held up a hand, pausing it before it came out.
"Yeah, sure, it's hard for you with Quinn being your best friend, but you're so concerned with keeping everyone else fucking happy that you completely forget yourself and what you want!" Something resembling knowing sadness and hurt flashed across blue eyes. "You stayed with Puckerman for reasons I will never know, nor understand, and let him practically walk all over you when you could do a million times better than that jackass."
"And to top it all off, you walk in on Quinn kissing me, and for some unknown fucking reason," she took a step towards Brittany until they were basically nose to nose, seething at the mouth as she stared up at the blonde, "You think after everything I've done and told you, you think I'd go running back to Quinn when clearly," she clenched her jaw, "I'd fallen for you a long time ago."
She stepped back, feeling her pulse throb in her neck from the aggressive adrenaline. "Down that fucking shit hole of a corridor." Brittany's whole face relaxed, eyes softening and her lips disappearing into her mouth as Santana's voice slowly declined into a hushed tone. "Because seeing you," brown eyes locked with sparkling blue, "Was like seeing the light for the first time after an eternity of darkness."
Breathing hard and heavy, Santana realized just how much she'd said and how every little thought that ever crossed through her mind had finally come out. There were so many consequences, outcomes and reactions she'd thought of, for every single possibility, but never had she been expecting the one she was about to receive.
One word. No different from any other word in the English dictionary, or any dictionary from that matter. And yet it meant so much. It somehow managed to change the fire pulsing in her veins to some weird, fluffy vibration that made the corners of her mouth pull up. Brittany's eyes were no longer dark and hurt, they were sparkling brighter than ever. Santana could feel her heart pounding for a completely different reason now and despite the sudden switch of emotions, their entire argument just didn't seem to matter.
But still, she'd had got a few things wrong in her life. So she needed some type of elaboration. "Ditto?" She repeated, arching a brow despite the small smile playing at her lips.
Brittany ran her tongue along her bottom lip, nodding slowly as she closed the gap between their bodies. "I fell for you a long time ago, too."
Santana's heart flipped with complete elation as pale arms snaked around her neck, cupping the nape gently and foreheads rested against one another. "You did?"
"I couldn't exactly hide it," Brittany explained, shrugging lightly. "It was too hard. And the only reason I pushed you away was because I couldn't handle you being so close to me when I couldn't have you."
Slipping her hands around Brittany's waist, Santana grinned. "So what does this mean? For us?"
"I don't know. But I can't hide it any longer."
It was like Brittany was reading the scripted lines in Santana's head. They were pretty much dead on. All of the responses she wanted too hear. She tilted her head to the side, still smiling as Brittany's breath coated her lips and made her mouth water with anticipation. "Me neither."
Brittany's eyes fluttered shut as she pulled lightly on dark brown locks and then they were kissing. Slowly, lazily, languidly, but perfectly. Santana ran her tongue along the blondes bottom lip, gradually coaxing it open until their tongues met, caressing and sliding against each other with ease that shouldn't be as practised as it was. It was like the first time two people kiss, all the finesse, care and anxiousness is there, but for them, it just felt like the beginning of something bright and big.
Something amazing. Complicated, none the less. But so fucking brilliant.
And despite them still having a million things to say, a million things to do, and a million things to discuss, including Quinn, moving, and stupid slushies and asshole jocks - they knew they'd be fine. Because they had each other.
Things would be hard, excruciatingly hard. But since when were things easy?
She almost chuckled at the thought, but lost herself in Brittany's kiss instead.
At least some things were easy.
Thank you for reading, it's been an honour to write for you. Again, apologies for the wait, and I know it's a sudden ending but that's how the cookie crumbles!
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