A/N: I don't own Glee nor the characters within. So, this is my first real Quinntana, as well as my first first person tense in a long while, as well as, yes, this is a drunken drabble. So take this with a grain of salt, hmm? Anyway, heh, this story was prompted by an anon who provided, 'I know she looks at Berry the way I look at Brittany, but I never knew if would hurt so fucking bad.' Thanks!
I know she looks at Berry the way I look at Brittany, but I never knew it would hurt so fucking bad. It's not like we were ever fucking exclusive.
Hell, we never talked about it. Not once. I don't know if it was because we were ashamed of that summer, or we just didn't know how to deal, but it was obvious whenever you got the two of us alone that there was something we didn't want to acknowledge. I know Brittany picked up on it. But Britt's like that. Freakily observant. Especially when you didn't want her to be.
Looking down at my nails, I force myself to ignore the quiet laughs coming from the corner where Berry and Quinn are talking. It shouldn't bother me. I have a loving girlfriend. A girl who'd do practically anything for me. Who has done practically everything for me.
But I can't get fucking hazel eyes out of my head, and it's driving me bat shit crazy. I know it's because Quinn's going to New York and I'm heading to Kentucky, and there's only forty two days left before school ends, but I can't help it, okay? It's fuckin' weak, but I can't let us end just like that.
Dammit, we had a summer. And dammit I could have fallen for her. And dammit, I know she could have fallen for me too.
But no. We had that one stupid fight and she's all over the hobbit. How the hell does that make sense? Look at her, then at me. Like that Old Spice commercial. Where I'm motherfucking Mustafa and it's your stupid guy at home. How the hell could she compare?
Oh, fuck, I'm glaring over there again, but you know what? Who the hell cares if I am? I'm Santana fucking Lopez. And I have a problem with Q and Berry communing.
Hot breath suddenly washes over my ear, and I shiver, turning to smile at my girl. "Hey," I greet, automatically putting my hand out to take hers.
"Hey," Brittany chirps, leaning in to press an adoring kiss to my lips. Pulling back, her arms are going around my shoulders, and she's practically sitting on my lap without doing so. "What's wrong? You're all frowny again."
"I am?" Crap, I'm not trying to be. But Brittany's clear blue eyes are staring directly into mine, and I know I can't lie to her. My stomach curdles, and I look down. This isn't fun. How the hell do I tell the girl I love with all my being that I'm still thinking about a person who isn't even a proper ex?
Brittany's fingers start playing with the nape of my neck. "Is it Quinn?" she asks, a look on her face I'm not sure I've seen before, and alarm rushes through my body, "Is it 'cuz she and Rachel are now dating?"
What? Pain slams into my chest, taking the air from my lungs. Quinn and Rachel are... They're dating?
No. No. That's not right. How?
"Yeah," Brittany answers my unasked question, "It was official last Wednesday. You didn't know? I thought everyone knew. It's not like they're hiding it. And I think it's cute."
My head snaps around, and I'm staring at them now.
Yes. There's a closeness there that I hadn't seen.
"Don't you think it's cute?"
No. No.
My jaw tightens, and I can barely feel Brittany now. For some reason, I feel hollow.
I don't like this feeling.
Brittany sighs. "Maybe you should talk to her?"
It's now Brittany's turn to get my head snapped in her direction. "Britts?" I ask, my voice unwillingly husky, and I lick my lips, hands coming up to clutch her knees; I need to touch her, and I think she knows this because she shifts even closer in her chair, nose coming up to brush along my cheek.
"San," she smiles sadly, a thumb caressing my neck, "Go talk to her."
"But I love you," I insist. I don't want to talk to Quinn. No. Not anymore. Not when... Not when she's –
Not when she's with someone else.
Oh god, I am so fuckin' messed up.
"And I love you." Smiling lovingly, Brittany presses another kiss to my lips, pulling me into her chest. She feels amazing and right and for a second I forget why I'm so upset. But then she pulls back and stands up, pulling me with her. "Come on," she whispers, her hands on my shoulders turning me towards Quinn and Berry, "You need to do this."
My hand finds hers.
"I know," she has a smile in her voice, "And I trust you."
Well, how the hell does my heart not break in half at that? I have no idea, because I'm suddenly standing in front of Quinn, heart pounding. Acutely aware of wide dark brown and hazel eyes staring at me, I glare at Quinn, breathing in shallowly with a harsh frown on my face. "Q," I clear my throat, crossing my arms, "A word?"
Thoughts flit behind Quinn's eyes. She doesn't answer right away, and my heart constricts when Rachel's hand touches her arm.
"Quinn?" Berry whispers, but Quinn shakes her head, cutting her off.
"No, it's okay," she smiles, hand coming up to squeeze Rachel's arm in turn, "I'll be right back."
A stubborn expression settles on Berry's face, but she reluctantly nods. "Okay," she agrees, a ghost of a smile on her face as she glances at me, settling her shoulders, "Just make sure to be back before Mr. Schuester gets here."
"Of course." And Quinn fuckin' leans over to kiss Rachel, hands coming up to hold the smaller girl's face.
I force myself to keep a straight expression on my face, and I step back, making way for Quinn to stand and make her way into the aisle in front of the stairs. I glare at Berry, but she doesn't notice because she's watching Quinn, her lower lip caught in her teeth, and a dark thought hits me as I find myself thinking that she should be concerned because who the hell knows what's going to happen when I get Quinn all alone? But then my eyes catch on Brittany's open face, and guilt slams into me, and I know I'm not looking as confident as I lead Quinn towards the door to the choir room and down the hall towards the bathroom.
"Alright, S," Quinn starts, already looking on edge and suspicious as she rests her hip against the nearest sink, "What do you want?"
My eyes trail along her legs, and a flash of relief hits me when I remember how easily she could still be in that cursed wheelchair. My shoulders sag, and I'm not sure if I want to hug her or slap her, as conflicted as I am. Instead, I stare past her shoulder, using my own eyes as an anchor point through the mirror behind her.
What the hell am I doing here? Brittany tells me to talk to Q so I just blindly do it? Ugh. I am so whipped.
Quinn sighs. "Santana?"
I almost close my eyes, instead meeting Quinn's eyes. "Q," I start, quieter than I mean it to be, a strange anxious feeling starting in my chest that travels down to my feet and hands, "You and Berry?" I can hear my voice is rough and plaintive, and I avert my gaze because I don't want to see Quinn's response. Being with her like this is already hard enough. Why am I here, again?
There's silence, and then Quinn answers. "Santana," she starts, the timbre of her voice doing stupid things to my stomach, "Why are you asking?"
"Are you?"
"Am I what?" The word cutting through the air, Quinn sighs heavily, and I can imagine the severe look on her face, the sharp lines of her face becoming even sharper. I don't know because I'm staring at my reflection in the mirror again. There's always been something about Quinn that makes it easier not to look at her.
If I don't look at her, I won't see those eyebrows and those eyes and the telling line of her lips...
I won't see her lips.
Fuck. I love Brittany. This? This is not okay.
"You and Berry," I spit out, an iron rod suddenly thrust behind my spine because I'm standing straight and meeting Quinn's eyes again, jaw clenched so tight it's a miracle I can breathe, let alone speak, "You're with her?"
A giant frown slams into Quinn's face. "Santana," she hisses again, eyes clouding over, her feet shuffling forward, "You're with Brittany?"
"Of course I am!" I suddenly yell, moving forward, needing to meet Quinn on equal footing. We've been forever jockeying for first place that I doubt we even know how to be on the same level, but dammit, I need to try. "God, Q," I spit, glaring directly into her eyes, fingernails digging into my palms; it's like when she outed my summer surgery, and I have no idea why we're suddenly at odds again but I can't stop it, "You threw me out and you're surprised I got over you?"
"You don't seem over me now," Quinn accuses, meeting me chest to chest, eyes flashing and lips curled into a horrible sneer, "Are you?"
And I'm suddenly pressed up against her, her arms so tight around my back I can barely breathe, her lips moving along my own. Our teeth hit each other's, and it's like the summer before junior year; I'm freaking out over my feelings for Brittany, and she's stressed out over Finn and Rachel, and I can see her body spread out before me, her muscles and skin trembling as my fingers trace along the lines of her body, telling her, promising her that Beth hadn't left her ugly and useless, and I want her, her and no one else, I promise, halfway meaning it before I'm truly meaning it until she accuses me of using her until Brittany appears again, yelling at me for getting a surgery I didn't need because weren't her words enough, wasn't she enough?
I loved you, I yell into Quinn's mouth now, fingers tearing at her short blonde hair, I could've loved you better than anyone could have.
Quinn's body trembles, and her body surrounds mine, and I could swear that I could hear her answering me, her breath coming quick and in short bursts, her body yelling that she had loved me too, that she had been scared, okay? That Puck and Beth had left her unsure of anything, and how could I, me, a girl so desirable that I could have anyone I wanted, want her?
Her mouth tastes like tears and the past, and that hurts even more than anything else.
Quinn... She and Brittany... Completely different.
Oh god. Brittany.
This is completely wrong.
Pain blasts into me, and I push myself away. "No," I force, "No, this is not okay."
"Then what's okay?" Quinn asks, not willing to let me go, her arms wrapping around my shoulders again, pressing her face into the side of my own, hunching as her body trembles, searching for my own.
Her chest is heaving, and suddenly, suddenly, things are starting to make sense.
"Q," I start, dragging in a deep breath, hands pressing into her back, mapping her, "Are you... Do you love Rachel?"
Silence except for Quinn's breathing meets my ears. Finally, quiet and defeated, she nods, nose dragging along my cheek. "Yes," she whispers.
That hurts, but, to be truthful, I expected it. "And," I sigh, pressing a quick kiss to Quinn's eyebrow, "I love Brittany."
"Yeah?" Quinn sounds hurt, but I'm not surprised. It's inevitable.
"Yeah."
Hot air rushes past me. "I know," Quinn admits, "It's like me and Rachel."
Exactly. "Exactly," I sit back on my heels, feeling stupid and free, sad and understanding; my hands come up to cup Quinn's face, memorizing how she feels there, so familiar and yet so new, "But that's where we're meant to be."
Quinn suddenly looks unsure. "Are you sure?" she asks, looking at me so severely it takes everything for me not to crush her against me again, "You and me? We can't...?"
"No," I smile ruefully, kissing her softly one last time, "We've already chosen our destiny. You know it's where we're meant to be."
"Right." Sighing, Quinn looks down, and then her hands are squeezing my hips, pulling me into a tight hug. "Thank you," she whispers, sounding so earnest that I'm crying again, god dammit, "I missed you."
But at least she's crying too, because I don't feel so stupid pulling back to wipe at my face, laughing when my eyes meet Quinn's. "Maybe check your makeup?" I ask cockily, already turning to do the same for my own, "Don't want the hobbit jumping to conclusions."
Turning, hands falling away after one last squeeze, Quinn studies her reflection in the mirror. "You, the same," she makes a face at me, hip-checking me cheekily, already pulling a couple of paper towels from the dispenser.
"Right," I humm, sighing, accepting a tissue, my heart already speeding up as I think about Brittany waiting for me. Still... I turn to Quinn. "Hey," I tilt my head, smiling, waiting until Quinn looks at me fully, turning her head completely towards me and not through the mirror, "I missed you too."
A short blush moves across Quinn's face. "Good," she admits, hazel eyes sparkling, looking so much like the girl I'd befriended in eighth grade, "Good."
It's all I can to do to smile back. At least this is a start, I think, watching her splash water onto her face, smiling again when her eyes focus on me, it's a start to being able to move on.