Microfic: It's Only Fear That Makes You Run
I felt compelled to rewrite the sweet lady kisses scene so that it felt more like Santana and Brittany were actually friends, instead of just two girls who like to fool around with each other. Fits as the beginning of this story.
She should have been leaving-it was late, and her dad was sure to yell at her when she got home-but instead of getting off of Brittany’s bed, she turned and buried her face in her friend’s neck. Brittany laughed and pulled her closer. “I love your sweet lady kisses,” she mumbled, and Santana smirked.
“Mmm. It’s a nice break from all that scissoring,” she said slyly, planting wet kisses along Brittany’s neck.
“I think we should sing a duet together,” Brittany said out of nowhere, and Santana sighed.
Now was so not the time to discuss this. Instead of answering, she slid her hand down Brittany’s leg, but the other girl refused be distracted. “We should sing ‘Come to My Window’ by Melissa Etheridge,” Brittany insisted, and Santana’s heart nearly stopped.
“What?” she asked, snapping her head up. “You can’t be serious.”
But Brittany’s eyes were wide and honest, and when she nodded, watching Santana’s face the whole time, Santana felt her throat close up. “That’s a really bad idea, Brittany,” she said, sitting up.
“Why?” Brittany demanded. “We sing it all the-”
“It’s just a bad idea, okay?” Santana insisted, barely fighting the rising panic. She took a breath and gathered her hair into its customary ponytail. “I should go.”
“I can pick another song,” Brittany offered, reaching for her, but Santana, swallowing hard, pushed herself off the bed.
“It’s not a good idea for us to sing together, okay?” she said, clenching her jaw. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Santana,” Brittany pleaded, but Santana made herself deaf and slipped down the stairs.
Blinking back sudden tears, Brittany stood up and went to the window to watch Santana climb into her car and drive away. It wasn’t the first time Santana had run, but Brittany had never felt so awful. Maybe it was time to do something new.
She should have been leaving-it was late, and her dad was sure to yell at her when she got home-but instead of getting off of Brittany’s bed, she turned and buried her face in her friend’s neck. Brittany laughed and pulled her closer. “I love your sweet lady kisses,” she mumbled, and Santana smirked.
“Mmm. It’s a nice break from all that scissoring,” she said slyly, planting wet kisses along Brittany’s neck.
“I think we should sing a duet together,” Brittany said out of nowhere, and Santana sighed.
Now was so not the time to discuss this. Instead of answering, she slid her hand down Brittany’s leg, but the other girl refused be distracted. “We should sing ‘Come to My Window’ by Melissa Etheridge,” Brittany insisted, and Santana’s heart nearly stopped.
“What?” she asked, snapping her head up. “You can’t be serious.”
But Brittany’s eyes were wide and honest, and when she nodded, watching Santana’s face the whole time, Santana felt her throat close up. “That’s a really bad idea, Brittany,” she said, sitting up.
“Why?” Brittany demanded. “We sing it all the-”
“It’s just a bad idea, okay?” Santana insisted, barely fighting the rising panic. She took a breath and gathered her hair into its customary ponytail. “I should go.”
“I can pick another song,” Brittany offered, reaching for her, but Santana, swallowing hard, pushed herself off the bed.
“It’s not a good idea for us to sing together, okay?” she said, clenching her jaw. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Santana,” Brittany pleaded, but Santana made herself deaf and slipped down the stairs.
Blinking back sudden tears, Brittany stood up and went to the window to watch Santana climb into her car and drive away. It wasn’t the first time Santana had run, but Brittany had never felt so awful. Maybe it was time to do something new.