By The Sea (6/?)
Title: By The Sea
Author: mayislytherin
Rating: PG-13
Characters/Pairings: Brittany/Santana
Word count: About 2,000
Summary: "By the sea...I found my heart." A tale of friendship, discovering yourself, and the beauty in life
Disclaimer: I don't own these characters or Glee, unfortunately.
Warnings/Spoilers: This is AU
Author's notes: The beach house featured in this story is a real place this is what it looks like: click. I have to say this loud and clear this chapter includes a TRIGGER WARNING. If you are triggered by anything to do with blood, cuts, etc please please avoid reading this. I do not want anyone to be triggered by this, because that is not the purpose of why I included what I did. There is a lot of sweet moments in here, but I have had somewhat of a sad day and it seeped in to my writing. I'm sorry for how long this update has taken, but I just needed some time to figure it all out. I want to say thank you to all the readers and I hope you enjoy this one! There's a lot in store for these two :) Feel free to review!
p.s my only editor is spell check and myself, sorry for any mistakes.
The book sits on Brittany's lap, open and untouched. She's stuck on one word and it's nearly killing Santana to watch her like this, focused and frustrated the way she is.
"Let me help you." Santana says, reaching for the book, only to be shoved away.
"I need to do this myself." Brittany's finger traces the word as she tries to pronounce it, hiding the book from Santana.
"Just let me see it." Santana whispers and Brittany sighs, handing the book over to her, but as it transfers into the other girls hands the pages rustle.
The first word that catches Santana's eye is 'love'.
She slams the book shut. "Do you want to go for a walk or something?" Santana questions, "We can go get coffee? I know you love the coffee shop. You're eyes always light up when you're there."
"I just want to be normal." Brittany murmurs. "Not even smart, just normal. Average. I'll take anything but this." Brittany picks up the book, dropping it to the floor with a crash. "I want to be that girl at coffee shops with the book in her hand, lost in that world…that's why I love it so much there. It is different here, Santana. Less laptops more books and stories. Yet I can't be a part of that, so how do I know if I belong here?"
Santana eyes the girl, her eyes getting heavy, "You don't think you belong here?"
With me?
"I didn't mean it like that." Brittany gets up, "You know, when I came here, I didn't expect to meet anyone. I came here to escape a lot of things that you don't even know about. Now I've met you and I get more and more confused. Sometimes I just want to kiss you, and other times I want to.." "Want to what?" Santana's voice cracks, her breathing and heat rate speeding up.
"Leave you. Leave this. After the thing with...what's-his-name. But then you know what I realized?"
She doesn't know if she wants to ask. "What?"
"I would just come back."
"Really?" Santana hears some strength start to build in her voice, "You would come back for me?"
"Every time." Brittany nearly whispers as she walks away from the bed. Santana hears her run down the stairs and the door quietly closing.
Sometimes things feel really shitty.
There are too many options. To rush into what could be perfect, to keep Brittany with her as a friend until she's ready, to run away…
The last one shouldn't be an option; Santana tries to remind herself this as she glances out the window. Brittany isn't in her regular spot on the beach. But in the waves, floating on his back and looking up at the sky. She's still clothed and it's probably freezing, yet something about the image nearly breaks Santana. All she wants is for this girl to be safe, to be loved, to have everything she ever wanted.
Santana can't do that.
She doesn't know if she ever can.
It fucking kills her to know that.
There's stairs and she walks down them, there's a door and she's opens it, there's sand that is hurting her feet but nothing matters.
So she does run, but towards Brittany, because this is the time she has and she doesn't want to waste it. She splashes in the water, feeling the cold creep to her bones, chilling her but also making her feel alive.
She lays next to Brittany in the water, floating on her back as well, and takes her hand.
Then she looks over to see Brittany for what feels like the first time. The sun is glistening on her face, making everything feel warm even though it is nowhere near it, and her blue eyes match the water surrounding her. They almost look as if there are waves moving in and out of them, little specks floating a long her ocean eyes.
She doesn't really think about what she is doing when she does it.
Rolling over and feeling her knees digging into the rocky sand as she hovers above Brittany's floating figure. She kisses her. It isn't as perfect as she had imagined, the water somewhat intervening, and Brittany seems to be started at first.
But it gets better.
The kiss starts to flow and everything feels like it was made to be the way it is in the moment. Their lips mold together, tongues collide but find their place, and every little movement seems to be coordinated to work. They kiss until it's like they can't breathe, still surrounded by water, nearly drowning in each other.
When the kiss breaks, Santana feels warm. The water isn't extinguishing the fire that is building up inside her, she has no idea if anything will do such a thing, and she isn't quite sure if she wants it to. "Santana…" Brittany murmurs as they move get out of the water, clothes drenched and sticking to their skin.
"Yes?" Santana notices Brittany's teeth chattering, they walk side by side in the quiet for a little while.
"Just making sure you're real."
"Why wouldn't I be?"
"Because…I thought you didn't…I thought maybe you didn't want me." Brittany takes awhile to get the words out, "Saying something and doing it are two different things."
Santana shakes her head, her hair shedding water droplets as they approach the front door together. "No." Is all she can manage to reply as they head to the bathroom to get towels. "I knew I wanted you before I even knew you're name."
She hears Brittany gulp, stripping away her wet clothes and quickly hiding under a towel. "You mean that? Really?"
"I mean it." What she doesn't mean to do is reveal her skin, forgetting what is going on and removing her clothes because of the fact that they are just uncomfortable. Brittany is staring, though. Her eyes looking at her up and down without any shame. Santana grabs a towel. "I'm not ready for you to...see that yet." She whispers.
"What was that mark? It was…right here." Brittany gestures on her own body at a place right on the left side of her chest.
"It's a tattoo." Santana says, holding her towel closer to her body, "I got it when I was sixteen. I thought I was a badass."
"What is it of?"
As if to answer her, Santana drops her towel a bit, exposing the skin on her chest, there's a clear scar running along and past where the towel is hiding and over all of it is a line of butterflies looking as if they were taking fight. As if maybe they were trying to escape whatever pain Santana experienced when she received that scar.
"What happened?" Brittany looks so sad when she asks that Santana doesn't even want to answer her.
The flashback happens as she retells the story, the image of her Mother hovering over her body, eyes looking full of worry and concern. Everything was blurry, the images broken and not in order. Her Mother was on the phone, screaming, the room looked like it was shaking back and forth. Then the phone fell to the ground, her eyes closed, and her Mother's body fell on top of her own.
They laid there together, Santana's blood a blanket on the two of them, surrounding in a pool; mixing with the salt of tears, forming something else. Something heavier, worse, thick and creating a stain that not only seeped into clothing, but all the way to the heart.
"You aren't dying, Santana. No." Her mother would say these words as her blood covered hands touched Santana's face. "You are staying with me. You are staying…"
She was thirteen. Frail, scared. The knife was pretty; it was shining in the light that filled their kitchen, the kitchen where her mother baked with her, where they laughed together and created memories. The kitchen that night turned into a different place. This place was different. It was scary, it was dark, the tiles went from white to red, and the sound of laughter was replaced with the sounds of screams.
She just hated herself that much.
Enough to let a knife sink into her chest, watching as her hand shook and made a trail where droplets of blood found their emergency exit.
The hospital room they put her in was made for children. Santana felt that if she was old enough to do this, she was old enough to be in the adult ward. The doctor's never listened to her. Instead, they continued sewing her up, creating a rag doll, and moving her about the building like a puppet. She was sick of being someone else's toy. When her wound recovered they suggested therapy, her mother told them to "Fuck off" and they went to a hotel.
Because home? It wasn't home anymore. It was hell.
Brittany is crying, her hands finding Santana, whose face is expressionless, and holding her. "Why would you do that? Why would you ever hurt yourself like that? You were so young…"
"I was bullied at school." Santana replies, "I had…seen suicide before." The memory of her father frightens her, the way he was in the chair. His chair he sat in everyday after work, the gun in his lap, the blood from his head leaking and covering the features that they shared.
"I…I wish I knew you then." Brittany says, nuzzling into Santana's neck, "I would have protected you. I would have done something. Maybe I would have punched the bullies. Beat them all up."
Santana smiles a small, delicate smile, kissing Brittany's hair. "It's done now, but thank you."
"Did you think that would scare me away?" Brittany finds herself getting closer to Santana, in ways she didn't really know were possible, "Nothing will. You know why?"
"Why?"
"Because now I have something new to do for you." Brittany looks up; Santana wishes she could capture the look she gives in that moment. She looks strong, her hair wet and stringy, her towel wrapped around her, yet her face almost like stone. As if she's a statue, a reminder of the past, a fighter who even now doesn't stop fighting. She continues finally, "Keep you safe."
"I always thought I would be the one to do that for you." Santana says quietly, her arms no longer protecting her body; she opens herself up to Brittany. They shift and Santana soon has Brittany in her arms, sighing and causing her breath to hit Santana's neck. The warmth appears again, reminding her of only moments before. Santana doesn't know why she waited so long to have this. Everything feels right. It feels good. It's nice to be able to tell someone everything and still have them want you. To have them say they'll protect you. To listen to their heartbeat as they cling to your body, breathing you in, molding in ways that prove they are made for each other.
She doesn't want to let go. One day she hopes for I love yous and goodnight kisses and intimate moments together.
But that's the future. For now, she can enjoy this.
The way Brittany sleeps.
The way she smiles softly and from the heart.
The way her eyelashes flutter.
The way she looks when she watches the sunset from the bedroom window.
And most of all, the way she appreciates Santana, looks at her, and speaks to her.
Santana doesn't want to label them, not just yet, but they are somewhere dancing on this borderline together. The dancing doesn't hurt her feet, no, it only builds her up. The dancing brings the strength and the push…
for that one day to happen.