Fic: Flashbacks 28/?
‘Are you seriously asking me to do this? You’ve got to be joking. Brittany, no. I’m not su-’
‘Please, I need you there. I can’t be the perfect hostess while I’m always thinking of you, I can’t sit there and pretend like I’m enjoying myself, I need you to get me through this.’
‘Brittany, it’s your fucking wedding anniversary, you seriously expect me to roll out the red carpet and be chief reveller in the festivities?’
‘You don’t have to bring sweets with you, but if Revels are what it takes to get you to come I’ll stock up on bag fulls.’
‘No, I…I just didn’t think I’d ever go to your anniversary party. It’s not something I want to celebrate.’
Brittany strokes the pad of her thumb along Santana’s cheek and Santana knows resistance is futile. This time next week, instead of having Brittany to herself she’ll be watching Camden gushing about the ‘bliss of married life’ in between kissing Brittany and making eyes at her. She seriously doubts she’s able to sit through it.
‘Please Santana, I don’t want to celebrate it either, I told him not to make a fuss, but his parents…and now, please, I need you there, I want you with me.’
‘I know, it’s just, I don’t care about the party, well I do because it’s practically rubbing salt into the wounds, but it’s more the fact you’ve reached your anniversary that’s pissed me off. I don’t want you to be married. Not to him.’
‘I’m sorry, it’s not the time yet, soon, I promise. I love you.’
‘I know you do but it’s a little hard believing it sometimes.’
Brittany kisses Santana and all her worries evaporate momentarily.
‘I will be with you. Until then, Saturday at 5.30, tell Quinn she’s welcome.’
And with that Brittany opens the car door and waltzes into her house, out of Santana’s reach for another week, or two, since next week she’ll be out of bounds with anniversary celebrations.
She makes a sufficiently late entrance because she’s still Santana Lopez, she breezes in effortlessly, takes a drink from the side, and surveys the surroundings. A bunch of corporate sharks are giving her the once over, leering from the corner where they’ve congregated, evidently Camden’s work colleagues. A figure enters the kitchen and Santana clocks him as Camden’s best man, the recollection of his face forces her back to the wedding day, until she feels a firm grip on her shoulder, shaking her back into reality. Tom Daniels nods firmly at her whispering that Quinn’s in the living room before getting his phone out and heading out of the room, Santana presumes to make a business call.
The living room is where it all seems to be happening, and although she can see Camden’s parents fawning over Brittany and Camden, it’s more packed out by people who she assumes are Brittany’s work colleagues: toned, elegant bodies float around the space. She spots Quinn and quickly heads over to her.
‘How are you doing?’
‘Been better.’
‘You.’
‘I don’t know anyone, and Hell’s kicked off on the stock exchange so Tom’s taken off.’
‘You could’ve gone.’
‘And miss the opportunity of seeing you cause a scene? I don’t think so.’
Quinn winks at her.
‘I’ll behave myself.’
Santana thinks she almost believes it, but already her fists are clenched and her eyes flash dangerously as Camden places his arm around Brittany’s waist and squeezes her. In the same instance Brittany’s eyes find hers, like she could sense Santana’s frustration, Santana wasn’t even sure Brittany had been aware of her arrival, and it’s a look that says everything it needs to. A small smile forms on her lips, before she turns back to conversation. Santana strains to hear:
‘Britt, I was just saying about your mother.’
‘Oh yeah, she’s got the flu at the moment so they couldn’t come down, they told me to say ‘Hi’ to you guys though.’
‘Aw how lovely, well give them our kind regards, won’t you dear? And a speedy recovery.’
Santana watches Brittany nod in response and there’s an awkward silence, even Camden seems uncomfortable.
‘Well, do these people work with you, Brittany?’
‘Yeah! They’re great, aren’t they?! You see that guy there? The one with the ear piercing?’
Santana sees the Woodfalls regard the man with trepidation, as though they’d rather look at anyone else but at the colourful characters Brittany’s invited.
‘Well, he used to dance with Madonna! Isn’t that insane?! And now he’s working at the school with me! I feel kind of star struck just talking to him! You know he’s still in contact with her, he was on speakerphone with her once, and I got to say ‘hello’! Can you believe that?’
Quinn laughs at Santana, leaning over and whispering in her ear:
‘You couldn’t be more obvious if you tried, you’re beaming like a lunatic at her gushing, and you haven’t even looked at any one else.’
Santana elbows her in the side, resulting in a grunt of disproval, and by the time she zones back into Brittany’s conversation the tone has changed. Camden looks ashamed, Brittany nervous, Camden’s father tired and Camden’s mother, quite frankly, looks a little psychotic.
‘…to pack it all in though. It’s been a year after all. And you’re almost 30, you know what they say about fertility rates...’
Santana’s stomach churns uncomfortably. Camden’s mother is looking more and more possessed as she reels off statistics to an ashen faced Brittany and a very embarrassed Camden. The dude should grow a pair and tell his mum to shut the fuck up already. She’s on the edge of her seat, on the brink of stopping this mad woman on the assault, she can hear Brittany’s silent pleas for someone to interrupt them, Quinn lays a warning hand on her leg, which Santana brushes off as she stands.
Appearances are still everything, so she just can’t lay into this old hag as much as she wants to, or in fact at all, but she can steer the conversation away with her presence.
‘Hello! Congratulations you two! Wow a year! How time flies, eh? Seems like only yesterday I was putting me glad rags on for the big day.’
Why Santana chooses to adopt the speech of some 90 year old woman she doesn’t know, Camden seems mildly bemused at the sudden intrusion and she figures this is the most welcoming he’s ever seen her, he probably expects her to falter any second and sneer at them all, after the slight run in they had at dinner that time. Brittany looks like she’s struggling to keep from laughing, and Santana knows she’s just given her enough ammunition to tease her with for the next few weeks. Camden’s parents just look flustered, his father a little relieved and his mother is attempting to hide her annoyance, but failing badly. Santana’s so stepping this up a notch.
‘Ah Mr and Mrs Woodfall! May I just say you looked simply divine on the wedding day, your dress was exquisite, and you’re looking as immaculate today. And you, Mr Woodfall, well, aren’t you a dapper fellow? You can see where Camden gets his dashing good looks from! Whatever you have in the water, do you mind bottling it up and sending me some? Haha!’
‘Sorry but I don’t know you.’ Camden’s mother is starting to look slightly uncomfortable, that’s right bitch, you’re not the only crazy lady in the room, Santana grins with her work. Brittany’s shoulders are starting to shake with the effort of holding in her laughter.
‘Oh my! Have I not introduced myself? Oh gosh, how silly of me! Please do excuse me, I feel so rude, where have my manners gotten to? Ho ho, don’t tell me, I don’t want to find them. Haha! Just kidding! I have them right here! Santana Lopez, pleased to meet you.’
She thrusts her hand out eagerly and it’s given the once over by Camden’s parents before each of them shakes it reluctantly. She catches Quinn rolling her eyes in her direction, and internally smirks.
‘Well, it’s been really splendid meeting you, hopefully we’ll catch up again soon, the night is still young after all, but I must continuing mingling, it is the curse of the social butterfly. I must flap, flap, flap away, away into the distance.’
And with that she extends her arm dramatically and heads off to talk to Brittany’s work mates.
Brittany is so close to peeing herself right here in front of Camden’s parents. Santana should have gone into acting, girl missed her profession, she could have made it big. Camden’s parents follow Santana’s retreating form with their eyes before turning to Brittany.
‘Another dancer?’
‘No, I grew up with her, she’s my bestie.’
The admission seems to confirm several things to the Woodfalls, who nod knowingly. Camden chirps up:
‘She must be drunk, she’s not normally so…’
‘Zealous?’
‘Took the words right out of my mouth Mother!’
‘She’s not jealous of anyone! Why would you say that?’
‘Britt, she said zealous, calm down.’
‘Ha, oh right.’
Camden’s parents take that as a cue to split off and begin circulating too, although avoiding Brittany’s guests and targeting Camden’s, they do seem to approve of Quinn though and Brittany guesses it’s got everything to do with her wholesome appearance, cross necklace, wedding ring, and the fact that she exudes vibes of stability. Brittany turns to expect Camden there, still trailing around after her but this time he’s no where in sight. She breathes a sigh of relief, as much as she should want to spend her time with him today, she despises the expectations and assumptions of it all. The whole event is a sham, this is most time they’ve spent with each other in weeks and it’s suffocating. She looks around to try and find Santana but she’s not in here either, and so she leaves to try the kitchen.
‘Listen, I can’t talk, it’s my anniversary…I know…that sounds more than appealing, I’ll see what I can do.’
Camden flips his phone shut before noticing Santana leaning against the side of the house. It had all gotten too much in there again, she’d just had to hear about how cute a couple Brittany and Camden make for the fifteenth time and had gone to the buffet table only to find a large wedding portrait centred, and she couldn’t take it. She needed air; she needed to remember this is just one night, that Brittany will be hers. Soon.
‘Camden.’
‘Oh! Hi Santana.’
He looks worried, fidgety, but she guesses she freaks him out a little, she must seem like she suffers from schizophrenia.
‘What are you doing out here?’
‘I came to get some air. Shouldn’t you be with your wife?’ It comes out more bitterly than she intended, and so she adds ‘it’s a lovely party, thanks for the invite’ on the end.
‘Of course you’d be invited, you’re Santana Lopez.’ She can’t help but trace a tone of resentment and she smirks to herself. ‘I came for some air too, it’s hot in there. Were you smoking?’
‘What makes you say that?’
‘I don’t know, just assumed you came out for a smoke.’
‘I would have said if I was smoking. I don’t smoke.’
‘Really?’ Santana doesn’t understand the sudden interrogation, or what exactly Camden’s trying to imply. ‘You seem like one.’
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
‘I don’t know. I just get smoker vibes from you. You used to, right?’
‘What, when I was like 14, and took a couple of drags to gain street cred? If so then, yeah, I used to smoke.’
‘I can imagine you smoking when you younger. Brittany wouldn’t have liked it.’
‘Brittany was doing alternate drags with me.’
‘No, she wasn’t.’ She’s hit a nerve, something as small as smoking grates on him, the fact he doesn’t know Brittany as well as her makes her smile. Of course he doesn’t, but it’s always satisfying to point out someone’s lack of understanding, a chip in their armour, especially when they presume to know it all; it’s what always made Berry such fun to taunt.
‘We used to smoke more than tobacco.’ Only a couple of times, but he doesn’t need to know that. They never actually enjoyed it, Santana would become light headed and smiley, gushing to anyone they encountered about Brittany; and Brittany on the other hand became irritable. It was a complete role reversal which neither of them enjoyed.
Camden stands silently for a few beats, his face a blank slate, unreadable, before he breathes out:
‘It is all smoke and mirrors.’
He turns around and heads back into the house, Santana’s left unsure about his last remark.
It’s gone one by the time the guests leave, luckily Camden’s parents left at 11, his mum complaining about a migraine and heading to the hotel they booked themselves into. Santana and Quinn are one of the last to leave. Camden shakes Quinn’s hand and kisses her on the cheek, Brittany hugs her and agrees to meet up soon. Quinn stands slightly off to the side as Santana says bye to Camden and receives a nod and wave in response. Brittany hugs Santana tighter than Quinn, and leans her back a little so she can give her a kiss on the cheek, it’s a little too long, too lingering, Brittany’s eyes close momentarily and Santana’s breath hitches, but in an instant both Santana and Quinn are out the door, and it’s just the married-for-a-year couple left.
‘Phew, tired!’
‘Indeed, playing host is quite the challenge.’
‘I’m going to head up, I’ll tidy tomorrow.’
Camden catches her wrist and there’s a look of desperation in his eyes, desperation and something completely out of place for him, she can’t place it, but it doesn’t suit him and she doesn’t like it, whatever it is. His grips slackens as he edges closer and Brittany steels herself, he’s her husband, he’s allowed to kiss her, he’s meant to kiss her. She feels his lips on hers, rough but apprehensive, it’s so different to what she has with Santana, what she craves, and she can’t quite bring herself to kiss back like she should, she’s his wife, she’s meant to kiss him, but she can’t allow herself to, not fully. Camden’s grip tightens, and Brittany’s suddenly all too aware of her lacklustre response, he’s trying, she can tell. His kisses get sloppier, quicker, needy, more selfish. By the morning Brittany’s sure her wrist will bruise. Somehow she finds herself backed up against one of the kitchen worktops. She can feel a bulge through her clothing, which tells her Camden is set on reliving the night of their wedding day again, it is their anniversary after all.
She wasn’t moving. He tried, he’d been tentative, careful, feeling, but she hadn’t even kissed back like she meant it. It seems like she’s too tired to keep up the act completely. He hadn’t meant to corner her, hadn’t meant to draw blood by nipping her lip with his teeth, but if he could just make her feel, if he could just crack the wall she’d built up around herself they’d be ok. He has her up against the counter when he feels her stiffen completely; she’s nothing more than a doll, a dead body, a mass of limbs. He could do anything with her if he wanted, and he knows she knows it. There’s a look of resignation in her eyes, pleading him to get it over and done with, she doesn’t want him in the slightest. Blood is still pulsing through his body, still making him hard, still fuelling his need, but the realisation hits him square in the chest, he feels sick, he can’t bring himself to look at her. This is their anniversary; he thought that maybe she’d feel differently tonight. His penis throbs impatiently but he can’t do this, not with Brittany. He lets go of her wrist as though her skin is burning him, swipes his car keys from the table. The cool air does nothing to soothe him, it’s not until he’s filled Olivia completely and can feel the pressure building and building, until it bursts and washes over him, that he is numb, immune, from Brittany and can unwind.
‘Please, I need you there. I can’t be the perfect hostess while I’m always thinking of you, I can’t sit there and pretend like I’m enjoying myself, I need you to get me through this.’
‘Brittany, it’s your fucking wedding anniversary, you seriously expect me to roll out the red carpet and be chief reveller in the festivities?’
‘You don’t have to bring sweets with you, but if Revels are what it takes to get you to come I’ll stock up on bag fulls.’
‘No, I…I just didn’t think I’d ever go to your anniversary party. It’s not something I want to celebrate.’
Brittany strokes the pad of her thumb along Santana’s cheek and Santana knows resistance is futile. This time next week, instead of having Brittany to herself she’ll be watching Camden gushing about the ‘bliss of married life’ in between kissing Brittany and making eyes at her. She seriously doubts she’s able to sit through it.
‘Please Santana, I don’t want to celebrate it either, I told him not to make a fuss, but his parents…and now, please, I need you there, I want you with me.’
‘I know, it’s just, I don’t care about the party, well I do because it’s practically rubbing salt into the wounds, but it’s more the fact you’ve reached your anniversary that’s pissed me off. I don’t want you to be married. Not to him.’
‘I’m sorry, it’s not the time yet, soon, I promise. I love you.’
‘I know you do but it’s a little hard believing it sometimes.’
Brittany kisses Santana and all her worries evaporate momentarily.
‘I will be with you. Until then, Saturday at 5.30, tell Quinn she’s welcome.’
And with that Brittany opens the car door and waltzes into her house, out of Santana’s reach for another week, or two, since next week she’ll be out of bounds with anniversary celebrations.
She makes a sufficiently late entrance because she’s still Santana Lopez, she breezes in effortlessly, takes a drink from the side, and surveys the surroundings. A bunch of corporate sharks are giving her the once over, leering from the corner where they’ve congregated, evidently Camden’s work colleagues. A figure enters the kitchen and Santana clocks him as Camden’s best man, the recollection of his face forces her back to the wedding day, until she feels a firm grip on her shoulder, shaking her back into reality. Tom Daniels nods firmly at her whispering that Quinn’s in the living room before getting his phone out and heading out of the room, Santana presumes to make a business call.
The living room is where it all seems to be happening, and although she can see Camden’s parents fawning over Brittany and Camden, it’s more packed out by people who she assumes are Brittany’s work colleagues: toned, elegant bodies float around the space. She spots Quinn and quickly heads over to her.
‘How are you doing?’
‘Been better.’
‘You.’
‘I don’t know anyone, and Hell’s kicked off on the stock exchange so Tom’s taken off.’
‘You could’ve gone.’
‘And miss the opportunity of seeing you cause a scene? I don’t think so.’
Quinn winks at her.
‘I’ll behave myself.’
Santana thinks she almost believes it, but already her fists are clenched and her eyes flash dangerously as Camden places his arm around Brittany’s waist and squeezes her. In the same instance Brittany’s eyes find hers, like she could sense Santana’s frustration, Santana wasn’t even sure Brittany had been aware of her arrival, and it’s a look that says everything it needs to. A small smile forms on her lips, before she turns back to conversation. Santana strains to hear:
‘Britt, I was just saying about your mother.’
‘Oh yeah, she’s got the flu at the moment so they couldn’t come down, they told me to say ‘Hi’ to you guys though.’
‘Aw how lovely, well give them our kind regards, won’t you dear? And a speedy recovery.’
Santana watches Brittany nod in response and there’s an awkward silence, even Camden seems uncomfortable.
‘Well, do these people work with you, Brittany?’
‘Yeah! They’re great, aren’t they?! You see that guy there? The one with the ear piercing?’
Santana sees the Woodfalls regard the man with trepidation, as though they’d rather look at anyone else but at the colourful characters Brittany’s invited.
‘Well, he used to dance with Madonna! Isn’t that insane?! And now he’s working at the school with me! I feel kind of star struck just talking to him! You know he’s still in contact with her, he was on speakerphone with her once, and I got to say ‘hello’! Can you believe that?’
Quinn laughs at Santana, leaning over and whispering in her ear:
‘You couldn’t be more obvious if you tried, you’re beaming like a lunatic at her gushing, and you haven’t even looked at any one else.’
Santana elbows her in the side, resulting in a grunt of disproval, and by the time she zones back into Brittany’s conversation the tone has changed. Camden looks ashamed, Brittany nervous, Camden’s father tired and Camden’s mother, quite frankly, looks a little psychotic.
‘…to pack it all in though. It’s been a year after all. And you’re almost 30, you know what they say about fertility rates...’
Santana’s stomach churns uncomfortably. Camden’s mother is looking more and more possessed as she reels off statistics to an ashen faced Brittany and a very embarrassed Camden. The dude should grow a pair and tell his mum to shut the fuck up already. She’s on the edge of her seat, on the brink of stopping this mad woman on the assault, she can hear Brittany’s silent pleas for someone to interrupt them, Quinn lays a warning hand on her leg, which Santana brushes off as she stands.
Appearances are still everything, so she just can’t lay into this old hag as much as she wants to, or in fact at all, but she can steer the conversation away with her presence.
‘Hello! Congratulations you two! Wow a year! How time flies, eh? Seems like only yesterday I was putting me glad rags on for the big day.’
Why Santana chooses to adopt the speech of some 90 year old woman she doesn’t know, Camden seems mildly bemused at the sudden intrusion and she figures this is the most welcoming he’s ever seen her, he probably expects her to falter any second and sneer at them all, after the slight run in they had at dinner that time. Brittany looks like she’s struggling to keep from laughing, and Santana knows she’s just given her enough ammunition to tease her with for the next few weeks. Camden’s parents just look flustered, his father a little relieved and his mother is attempting to hide her annoyance, but failing badly. Santana’s so stepping this up a notch.
‘Ah Mr and Mrs Woodfall! May I just say you looked simply divine on the wedding day, your dress was exquisite, and you’re looking as immaculate today. And you, Mr Woodfall, well, aren’t you a dapper fellow? You can see where Camden gets his dashing good looks from! Whatever you have in the water, do you mind bottling it up and sending me some? Haha!’
‘Sorry but I don’t know you.’ Camden’s mother is starting to look slightly uncomfortable, that’s right bitch, you’re not the only crazy lady in the room, Santana grins with her work. Brittany’s shoulders are starting to shake with the effort of holding in her laughter.
‘Oh my! Have I not introduced myself? Oh gosh, how silly of me! Please do excuse me, I feel so rude, where have my manners gotten to? Ho ho, don’t tell me, I don’t want to find them. Haha! Just kidding! I have them right here! Santana Lopez, pleased to meet you.’
She thrusts her hand out eagerly and it’s given the once over by Camden’s parents before each of them shakes it reluctantly. She catches Quinn rolling her eyes in her direction, and internally smirks.
‘Well, it’s been really splendid meeting you, hopefully we’ll catch up again soon, the night is still young after all, but I must continuing mingling, it is the curse of the social butterfly. I must flap, flap, flap away, away into the distance.’
And with that she extends her arm dramatically and heads off to talk to Brittany’s work mates.
Brittany is so close to peeing herself right here in front of Camden’s parents. Santana should have gone into acting, girl missed her profession, she could have made it big. Camden’s parents follow Santana’s retreating form with their eyes before turning to Brittany.
‘Another dancer?’
‘No, I grew up with her, she’s my bestie.’
The admission seems to confirm several things to the Woodfalls, who nod knowingly. Camden chirps up:
‘She must be drunk, she’s not normally so…’
‘Zealous?’
‘Took the words right out of my mouth Mother!’
‘She’s not jealous of anyone! Why would you say that?’
‘Britt, she said zealous, calm down.’
‘Ha, oh right.’
Camden’s parents take that as a cue to split off and begin circulating too, although avoiding Brittany’s guests and targeting Camden’s, they do seem to approve of Quinn though and Brittany guesses it’s got everything to do with her wholesome appearance, cross necklace, wedding ring, and the fact that she exudes vibes of stability. Brittany turns to expect Camden there, still trailing around after her but this time he’s no where in sight. She breathes a sigh of relief, as much as she should want to spend her time with him today, she despises the expectations and assumptions of it all. The whole event is a sham, this is most time they’ve spent with each other in weeks and it’s suffocating. She looks around to try and find Santana but she’s not in here either, and so she leaves to try the kitchen.
‘Listen, I can’t talk, it’s my anniversary…I know…that sounds more than appealing, I’ll see what I can do.’
Camden flips his phone shut before noticing Santana leaning against the side of the house. It had all gotten too much in there again, she’d just had to hear about how cute a couple Brittany and Camden make for the fifteenth time and had gone to the buffet table only to find a large wedding portrait centred, and she couldn’t take it. She needed air; she needed to remember this is just one night, that Brittany will be hers. Soon.
‘Camden.’
‘Oh! Hi Santana.’
He looks worried, fidgety, but she guesses she freaks him out a little, she must seem like she suffers from schizophrenia.
‘What are you doing out here?’
‘I came to get some air. Shouldn’t you be with your wife?’ It comes out more bitterly than she intended, and so she adds ‘it’s a lovely party, thanks for the invite’ on the end.
‘Of course you’d be invited, you’re Santana Lopez.’ She can’t help but trace a tone of resentment and she smirks to herself. ‘I came for some air too, it’s hot in there. Were you smoking?’
‘What makes you say that?’
‘I don’t know, just assumed you came out for a smoke.’
‘I would have said if I was smoking. I don’t smoke.’
‘Really?’ Santana doesn’t understand the sudden interrogation, or what exactly Camden’s trying to imply. ‘You seem like one.’
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
‘I don’t know. I just get smoker vibes from you. You used to, right?’
‘What, when I was like 14, and took a couple of drags to gain street cred? If so then, yeah, I used to smoke.’
‘I can imagine you smoking when you younger. Brittany wouldn’t have liked it.’
‘Brittany was doing alternate drags with me.’
‘No, she wasn’t.’ She’s hit a nerve, something as small as smoking grates on him, the fact he doesn’t know Brittany as well as her makes her smile. Of course he doesn’t, but it’s always satisfying to point out someone’s lack of understanding, a chip in their armour, especially when they presume to know it all; it’s what always made Berry such fun to taunt.
‘We used to smoke more than tobacco.’ Only a couple of times, but he doesn’t need to know that. They never actually enjoyed it, Santana would become light headed and smiley, gushing to anyone they encountered about Brittany; and Brittany on the other hand became irritable. It was a complete role reversal which neither of them enjoyed.
Camden stands silently for a few beats, his face a blank slate, unreadable, before he breathes out:
‘It is all smoke and mirrors.’
He turns around and heads back into the house, Santana’s left unsure about his last remark.
It’s gone one by the time the guests leave, luckily Camden’s parents left at 11, his mum complaining about a migraine and heading to the hotel they booked themselves into. Santana and Quinn are one of the last to leave. Camden shakes Quinn’s hand and kisses her on the cheek, Brittany hugs her and agrees to meet up soon. Quinn stands slightly off to the side as Santana says bye to Camden and receives a nod and wave in response. Brittany hugs Santana tighter than Quinn, and leans her back a little so she can give her a kiss on the cheek, it’s a little too long, too lingering, Brittany’s eyes close momentarily and Santana’s breath hitches, but in an instant both Santana and Quinn are out the door, and it’s just the married-for-a-year couple left.
‘Phew, tired!’
‘Indeed, playing host is quite the challenge.’
‘I’m going to head up, I’ll tidy tomorrow.’
Camden catches her wrist and there’s a look of desperation in his eyes, desperation and something completely out of place for him, she can’t place it, but it doesn’t suit him and she doesn’t like it, whatever it is. His grips slackens as he edges closer and Brittany steels herself, he’s her husband, he’s allowed to kiss her, he’s meant to kiss her. She feels his lips on hers, rough but apprehensive, it’s so different to what she has with Santana, what she craves, and she can’t quite bring herself to kiss back like she should, she’s his wife, she’s meant to kiss him, but she can’t allow herself to, not fully. Camden’s grip tightens, and Brittany’s suddenly all too aware of her lacklustre response, he’s trying, she can tell. His kisses get sloppier, quicker, needy, more selfish. By the morning Brittany’s sure her wrist will bruise. Somehow she finds herself backed up against one of the kitchen worktops. She can feel a bulge through her clothing, which tells her Camden is set on reliving the night of their wedding day again, it is their anniversary after all.
She wasn’t moving. He tried, he’d been tentative, careful, feeling, but she hadn’t even kissed back like she meant it. It seems like she’s too tired to keep up the act completely. He hadn’t meant to corner her, hadn’t meant to draw blood by nipping her lip with his teeth, but if he could just make her feel, if he could just crack the wall she’d built up around herself they’d be ok. He has her up against the counter when he feels her stiffen completely; she’s nothing more than a doll, a dead body, a mass of limbs. He could do anything with her if he wanted, and he knows she knows it. There’s a look of resignation in her eyes, pleading him to get it over and done with, she doesn’t want him in the slightest. Blood is still pulsing through his body, still making him hard, still fuelling his need, but the realisation hits him square in the chest, he feels sick, he can’t bring himself to look at her. This is their anniversary; he thought that maybe she’d feel differently tonight. His penis throbs impatiently but he can’t do this, not with Brittany. He lets go of her wrist as though her skin is burning him, swipes his car keys from the table. The cool air does nothing to soothe him, it’s not until he’s filled Olivia completely and can feel the pressure building and building, until it bursts and washes over him, that he is numb, immune, from Brittany and can unwind.