fic: if you manage to fade away from the reality of it all
if you manage to fade away from the reality of it all
Glee; Brittany/Santana; pg; 256 words
It's the right choice for her, even if it's hard.
Written for timeofyoursong. Thanks to lauriestein for looking it over.
~*~
All throughout high school, Brittany knew she wasn't going to go to college. Most people don't know that she's actually decent in English-she likes to read, even if the books don't always make sense-but she keeps that to herself. It's not like people would believe her if she told them.
Santana goes to college, though, and it's hard for Brittany. She didn't really have any other friends, because girls never seemed to like her for anything other than one drunken hookup; a second one every so often. Santana was all she needed. She loves Santana, which is why she insisted Santana leave. People who have the choice to stay or go and stay in Lima never leave.
When Santana tells Brittany she's coming home for Thanksgiving, Brittany convinces the manager to give her the week off. Brittany's parents are away, so she cleans up the house and buys a pre-made dinner.
The doorbell rings as Brittany's trying to figure out how to make the mashed potatoes; she abandons them and runs for the front hall, bare feet skidding on the polished wood. Santana's there, city-slick and sophisticated, hair shorter and curling around her shoulders. She's got bags in her hands-their candy stash, no longer forbidden by Coach Sylvester, and her Mean Girls DVD. She gives Brittany a silver box, which has a little black dress in it.
"Every girl should have one," Santana says, signature grin lighting up her face. She tugs Brittany's hand. "Come on. I'll tell you about school."
Glee; Brittany/Santana; pg; 256 words
It's the right choice for her, even if it's hard.
Written for timeofyoursong. Thanks to lauriestein for looking it over.
~*~
All throughout high school, Brittany knew she wasn't going to go to college. Most people don't know that she's actually decent in English-she likes to read, even if the books don't always make sense-but she keeps that to herself. It's not like people would believe her if she told them.
Santana goes to college, though, and it's hard for Brittany. She didn't really have any other friends, because girls never seemed to like her for anything other than one drunken hookup; a second one every so often. Santana was all she needed. She loves Santana, which is why she insisted Santana leave. People who have the choice to stay or go and stay in Lima never leave.
When Santana tells Brittany she's coming home for Thanksgiving, Brittany convinces the manager to give her the week off. Brittany's parents are away, so she cleans up the house and buys a pre-made dinner.
The doorbell rings as Brittany's trying to figure out how to make the mashed potatoes; she abandons them and runs for the front hall, bare feet skidding on the polished wood. Santana's there, city-slick and sophisticated, hair shorter and curling around her shoulders. She's got bags in her hands-their candy stash, no longer forbidden by Coach Sylvester, and her Mean Girls DVD. She gives Brittany a silver box, which has a little black dress in it.
"Every girl should have one," Santana says, signature grin lighting up her face. She tugs Brittany's hand. "Come on. I'll tell you about school."