"Why does she love him?"
Cowboy-Patterned Sanctuary (1/?)
Finn
The warm cabin of my car is comforting after the bracing cold of the January gloom. My old tires have trouble gripping the icy street. All of my attention is on the road when I spot a small figure in a familiar letterman’s jacket some way down the road. I squint in the quickly descending dark. I pull up next to her, leaning out of the window to call her name. She doesn't acknowledge me. Instead, she squares her shoulders and continues down the street, her tiny skirt doing nothing to protect her bare legs from the bitter cold. “Come on Santana, it's freezing out here.” My voice is surprisingly loud in the winter quiet of Lima. She stops, turning to face me, a glare adorns her face. I almost laugh. It's so Santana of her to be mad at me for rescuing her from the cold. She waits for me to pull my car up next to her before sliding silently into the passenger seat. I can see her hands trembling in her lap. I pull away from the curb, towards where I know her house is. I glance over at her, startled to see tears sliding down her still scowling face. “Umm, Santana? You want to talk about it?” “Just take me home Finn.” She grounds out, glaring straight ahead, her tiny hands are balled into fists. I shake my head but continue towards her house. I carefully pull into the doorway of her rather large home. “Wait Santana.” I manage, before she can make her escape. She sighs, as if resigning herself to the questions she knows are coming. “Are your parents home?” I ask, surprising her with the unexpected question. She shakes her head, looking at me with a almost quizzical expression on her face. “My mom's out of town and my dad's on call all night. I was supposed to stay with Brittany but...” I start in alarm as she starts sobbing. “Umm..” I cautiously move over on the bench seat, touching her shoulder. She surprises me by turning and pressing her face into my jacket. I slowly wrap both arms around her, as if she's a wild animal I'm trying not to spook. “Shhh shh.” I murmur, rubbing her back. “Why does she love him?” Is the only thing I make out between sobs. “Who Hon, Brittany?” Santana's sobs slowly subside, leaving her to nod weakly into my chest. “And she loves... Artie?” I feel her hands ball into fists in my jacket. She nods again. “But... you love Brittany?” she freezes for a second, before nodding once more. “What happened?” I whisper softly. She pulls away from me so that I see her face. With tears and mascara staining her crumpled face, I don't think I've ever seen anything more heartbreaking. Irrational anger at Brittany floods through me. I make myself calm down though, I didn't even know the whole story. She has her legs pulled up on the seat, her arms wrapped around them. She lets me put my around around her once more, leaning into my side. I listen as she tells me how she lost Brittany to our wheeled glee club mate. Then she tells me what happened right before I found her.
Santana
I quickly let myself into Brittany's house, using the key I'd since elementary school. I called a greeting to her parents in the kitchen, and her younger sister in the hallway that led to Brittany's room. I'd had to stay behind at school to talk to Coach and I'd sent Brittany home ahead of me. I swung open the door to the familiar room and was met with... him. They were on her bed. Together. I stammered something before backing out into the hallway. Knowing they were together was different than seeing it. And it hurt a lot more. I grabbed my bag and thundered down the stairs, pretending I couldn't hear Brittany calling my name.
Finn
As she finishes her story, I realize that my hands have unconsciously found their way to her hair, stroking it, soothing her. All I can do is hold her as she sniffles into my jacket. “Do you want to come home with me?” I roll my eyes at the look on her face when I ask this. “Well, I'm guessing you don't really want to go back to Brittany's do you?” She shakes her head with a sigh. “No, I guess not.”
Santana
His house has a comforting cinnamon smell . I can hear his mom bustling around in the kitchen. We creep past the living room, where Burt is watching football on a rather large TV. The stairs groan in protest as we hurry up them. The cowboy-patterned walls of his room are a sanctuary from the cold outside. My teeth chatter uncontrollably. My wet clothes hang from my trembling body. He steps towards me from his dresser where he'd been pulling out dry clothes for both of us. His hands, his huge hands run themselves up and down my arms, rubbing the warmth back into them. My teeth slowly stop chattering. My wet clothes hang from my body. He steps away, gesturing towards the bed where's he laid out clothes for both of us. He grabs his and steps out of the room, closing the door softly behind him.
I stand for a second on the worn rug in the middle of the room. I dress quickly. The obviously well loved hoodie drops to my knees. The blanket on his bed is warm and comforting. I slide in between the sheets, taking in his comforting smell as it envelops me. A few seconds before I fall asleep, I feel the bed dip as he takes the other side of the narrow bed. His hand finds mine underneath the covers and he squeezes. His face is the last thing I see before I sink into a deep, dreamless sleep.