long live us and our love

Santana loves her girlfriend and tries to tell her that.

I love you.

She thought, smiling softly when she heard her girlfriend rambling freely, as if there was no care in the world. It wasn't that she wasn't listening, she was, don't get her wrong but there's something about how perfect her girlfriend looked. With her brown locks curled around her face, her brown eyes sparkling and mouth moving with such fluidity, Santana couldn't help but fall in love with her more.

Santana finally accepted the feeling that was bubbling inside of her; a feeling that she thought she lost forever; a feeling that she swore to never ever have again; love. It was ridiculous at first, she has never love and never been loved. The thing with Brittany was only a one-time thing and she loved Brittany as her best friend, not her lover.

Brittany wasn't the love that she needed.

But here, sitting down on a cold park bench with her potential wife (she has been thinking about their future, it's normal, shush) with her feet stretched out, she nodded and agreed with everything her girlfriend was rambling about.

"I wish we could though," Rachel spoke, buddle up in a red scarf and matching mittens. "I wish we could run away and never look back."

Santana made an affirmative sound as she reached out to take Rachel's hand in hers, "I wish we could too."

"As long as I have you, I'll be happy to go anywhere in the world."

Santana's heart swooned, she couldn't help the butterflies flying about in her stomach, the tingly feeling she was experiencing and even the warmth from her bottom. She couldn't help it, Rachel said the exact things she needed to hear so that she was able to love again.

And she was certain that she can love again.

I love you.

. . .

I love you.

Groaning in pain, Santana laid down on her back before rolling over on the long wooden bench in the Cheerio's locker room to make room for Quinn, who was panting heavily and stretching her muscles.

"Jesus Christ," Quinn's soft voice spoke as she willed her heart to calm down. "That was hell."

Santana nodded with one arm over her eyes. "Tell me about it. We should have never suggested that the baby Cheerios needed more training." She had underestimated Coach Sylvester; she had thought that the Coach might let them go through practice with at least some grace to be well, nice especially after she gave birth to her baby (which Santana still does not know how the fuck did that happened but hey, you can't change what's been done) but apparently, even after her baby gate burst opened, she's still the vicious crude old Sue Sylvester that we all know and love.

"It bit us in the ass."

"You got that right." Santana shook her head, lifting her feet before collapsing them onto Quinn's lap. She smirked and lifted up her middle finger because she could literally feel the glare that she was receiving from one Quinn Fabray.

The blonde scoffed, "Asshole."

"I try my best."

"Whatever, I'm gonna take a shower." Quinn spoke, abruptly standing up causing Santana's feet to hit the ground and the Latina unceremoniously dropped onto the floor. The other girl laughed and smirked at the "Oww!" that was let out from the Latina's mouth.

"Fuck you, Fabray."

"You already have, Lopez." she winked, earning a menacing glare before she laughed and turned around to head towards the showers. Luckily, most of the Cheerios had packed up and went home immediately, seeing as it was already 7 in the evening so Quinn wasn't worried about taking her sweet time in the showers.

Santana heard the showers go off and a soft sweet voice humming to David Guetta's Titanium, she could not help but let out a chuckle. She shook her head when she realized she was still lying down on the floor. She quickly stood up and laid her back down on the bench, letting the crooning of Quinn Fabray's voice wash over her as she closed her eyes.

It wasn't long till she woke up to the sound of humming all around her and a pair of tiny hands with such soft fingers massaging her aching leg. The hands started out with the sole of her feet, and Santana could feel the muscles relaxing upon the touch. She moaned in pleasure, savoring the massage completely before she heard a breathy chuckle.

"Hello to you too, Santana," the Latina perked up at the voice of her girlfriend as she sat up, her legs in Rachel's lap.

"Hi,"

"Hello, darling," Rachel smiled, leaning up to place a soft almost longing kiss on Santana's lips. "How was practice?"

Santana huffed, "It was hell. Nothing unusual,"

The other girl made an affirmation noise, still continuing the massage on Santana's calves. "Do you still want to stay over tonight?" her eyes looked up towards Santana, almost afraid of the answer.

"Of course I want to," she said, pushing Rachel's chin with her forefinger. "I wouldn't miss it for the world."

Rachel let out a breath she didn't know she was holding. "Alright, I almost thought you didn't want to join me tonight, what with all your muscles aching and that terrible bruise on your knee.

"It's just… I love hanging out with you, I don't understand why but I just really do. We could do anything in the world from baking cookies to playing Call of Duty and I still wouldn't want you to leave. I-I just, I love your company, you make me feel safe and comfortable and that's really so difficult to find nowadays. I'm rambling right now, aren't I?"

Santana nodded with a faint smile on her lips, pulling her legs from Rachel.

"I-I'm … sorry. God, I wasn't thinking, I must have scared you off right now. Oh sweet Streisand, I am terribly sorry Santana, I'd understand if you want to cancel our date tonight, I perfectly understand. Although I wou-hmph!"

Rachel was cut off from her rambling when a pair of luscious lips suddenly attacked her own. She let herself melt, remembering every detail of Santana's lips as her right hand slipped around the other girl's neck, pulling her impossibly closer.

When Rachel's tongue grazed Santana's lips, begging for entrance, the Latina barely opened her mouth when a "JESUS CHRIST, MUST YOU TWO DO THAT ALL THE TIME?!" was heard and Rachel reluctantly pulled herself away from Santana before diving in to place just another brief kiss.

Santana lazily glared at the blonde who interrupted them, "It's not our fault that you're always near us when we're getting our mack 'on,"

"And it's not my fault either that you guys could have done that in your own private room," Quinn retorted, quirking a perfect eyebrow. "Now get out, I need to change."

"Nah, I'd like to see the toned body of yours, Q," Santana wiggled her eyebrows, wrapping her arm around Rachel's waist.

Rachel coughed, "If I may interfere, I think we both would like to see your wonderland, Quinn. I mean, we wouldn't mind a free show." She winked at Santana, enjoying the flustered sight of one Quinn Fabray, who seemed to be red from her cheeks down to her collarbone.

Santana's eyebrow shot up, impressed as she glanced at Rachel.

I love you.

. . .

I love you.

She watched with awe as Rachel straightened her back, titled her head upwards slightly and squared her shoulders. Rachel looked deadly in the eye of the jock and Santana could already feel the fear vibrating from the boy even though he wasn't showing it.

Santana could smell fear anywhere, she knows fear.

"Now explain to me how throwing crude names towards my girlfriend will make you succeed in life," Rachel stepped forward, a finger pointed towards the boy's chest. "I'm quite curious."

The boy scoffed and took advantage of his height. "Oh please, the fucking dyke deserves it. And looks like her girlfriend needs it too."

Santana was terrified. The boy was almost twice Rachel's height and he had arms that could almost feed the whole state of Ohio. God knows what he could do to Rachel, or Santana or even both of them. Santana was terrified on the inside; she didn't want anything to happen to her girlfriend. If it's anything, she should be the one to receive the wrath of the boy, not Rachel.

Rachel thought differently though. She didn't back down and didn't show any visual sign of fear. She's trying to act tough and she was doing a hell of a job.

The Latina watched, frozen, as Rachel smiled a smile that was sickeningly sweet and that's never a good sign. As quick as lightning, Rachel's hand pulled down the boy's dick and twisted it like it was some kind of acrobatic reproductive system. The boy yelped in pain and Santana was grateful on behalf of the boy that most of McKinley High had returned home.

"Fuck fuck fuck fuck!" the boy's hands went straight to it and yelled in pain, even as Rachel released it and threw a punch to his face. She stepped a foot back before double kicking the boy in the chest that threw him back so hard that he hit the lockers with a thump and the lockers were still vibrating.

Santana walked towards Rachel, her hands automatically clutching on Rachel's as the other girl turned around with a bright smile on her complexion that caused a smile to appear on Santana's face. "How was I?" the tiny diva smirked, fingers playing with Santana's. The two girls ignored the unconscious boy with a bruised lip on the school floor.

Instead of answering, Santana pushed her up against the lockers with her own hands gripping Rachel's hips as she attacked Rachel's lips with her own. It was a hungry and passionate kiss as tongues battled with tongues for dominance, one which Santana won easily because of how fucking turned on she was. Seeing Rachel standing up for her was hot but watching her kicking ass was even hotter that the fires of hell couldn't even compare.

Three words emerged in Santana's clouded mind when Rachel hands travelled down and squeeze her ass.

I love you.

. . .

I love you.

They were in Santana's living room, talking about their days. Santana was barely listening to Rachel's story of the inadequate sluggish self-centered girl in her dance class who simply, and Santana quotes, 'does not have the material and quality to be a star.'

"Why would she even participate in a class that she lacks practice of?" The Latina tuned in again as Rachel huffed, absently tracing patterns on Santana's stomach. "She stepped on my foot twice! Twice, San!"

Santana chuckled, squeezing the other girl. "Well, I don't blame her,"

Rolling her eyes at Rachel's incredulous facial expression, Santana shrugged. "You are tiny." she laughed when a gasp was heard and barely managed to avoid the pillow that was thrown in her direction.

"You're impossible,"

Santana poke her tongue out. "Yet you like me,"

"Unfortunately so," the girl slipped her hand underneath Santana's sweatshirt, basking the warmth Santana was providing. "Let's a watch a movie,"

"Nope," Santana popped the 'p'. "The last time we wanted to watch a movie, we argued over which movie we should have watched – I still think that Inception was the perfect choice – and didn't make up until you showed up with apology cookies."

"The past is the past, Santana. Let it go,"

Smirking in victory, Santana poked her girlfriend in the ribs. "Is that your way of saying that you're a loser and that I won?"

"Won what, exactly?" the brunette inquired. "That was barely an argument."

"You're no fun, Berry."

Rachel laughed as she leaned up to kiss away the pout that appeared on the Latina's lips. It was a brief kiss and it left Santana wanting for more. Feeling courageous, Santana smirked hungrily as she gently pushed Rachel down onto the couch, straddling the girl's hips before licking her lips.

Santana's dark orbs dilated at the sight of Rachel biting her bottom lip in anticipation and damn it, I should be biting her lip so she surged downward and kissed Rachel almost senselessly. Santana bit down on Rachel's bottom lip, earning a squeak from the other girl and couldn't help but smirk. Her tongue grazed Rachel's lip, wanting, no, needing, to taste the flavor of Rachel's mouth. The diva gratefully granted her wish, wasting no time with battling her tongue against Santana's for dominance.

In the end, it was Santana who won even though she almost gave up, because, damn it, the things Rachel could do with that tongue of hers. Santana took her time discovering the mouth of her beloved, savoring the taste of cookies & cream ice-cream with a mix of strawberry lip gloss. Once she was satisfied, Santana pulled away and reattached her lips onto Rachel's delicious neck.

Leaving a trail of kisses up the neck and loving the way Rachel was exhaling long unsteady breaths, Santana bit down hard as she purposely ignored the high-pitched cry and greedily suck on Rachel's pulse point, leaving a noticeable hickey. Her lips met with Rachel's once more as she slid herself up Rachel's body, her groin in contact with the diva's.

Rachel moaned into Santana's mouth and she could feel the smirk on the other girl's face. They kissed once again and again when a sharp piercing noise travelled through the room. The girls jumped in shock and accidentally bumped their foreheads together, hard but Santana had it rough because when Rachel tried to get her blaring phone on the coffee table, she was unstable and was unceremoniously thrown off from Rachel onto the floor before knocking her head on the table.

"Ay dios mio!" Santana let a string of Spanish words out that Rachel assumes it was nothing but curse words. "Jesus Christ, that fucking hurt!" she rubbed her temple in frustration.

Ignoring the still blaring phone, Rachel widened her eyes in panic. "Oh my god, Santana, you're bleeding! You're bleeding, bleeding, bleeding!" Santana didn't even realize the small gush of blood on her forehead before Rachel announced it loudly, and she winced at the high-pitched voice.

"It's just a cut, Rach,"

"But you're bleeding!" she cried, standing up before rushing towards the kitchen. "Don't go anywhere, 'Tana!"

Santana rolled her eyes as she mumbled to herself, "Where the fuck else am I supposed to go?"

It was only a few minutes when Rachel came back, her arms struggling with medicines and bandages. Santana would have laughed at the endearing sight of her girlfriend if the pounding headache wasn't preventing her from it.

"Lay down, San."

Santana did as she was told, aware of the blood on her forehead. "I'm fine, Rach, really," but Rachel wasn't having any of that since she was obviously in a state of panic.

"Oh god, oh god, oh god, you're going to die!"

"I am such a bad girlfriend! I am going to end up in prison,"

"I am so, so sorry, San!"

"Please don't die on me! You're too young to die!"

Santana rolled her eyes before reassuring Rachel that she was fine, she wasn't going to die, it was just a cut, and no, the other girl was neither a bad girlfriend nor going to end up in prison. It took her quite some time to reassure Rachel but when she finally saw her girlfriend's tense shoulders relaxed and her furrowed eyebrows were no more, she smiled to herself and mentally patting herself on the back.

"I'm just going to bandage this up, okay? Please do not hesitate to tell me if it hurts."

I love you.

. . .

I love you.

To say Santana was nervous was an understatement; she was anxious and felt jumpy all the time. She would be tapping her foot right now if it weren't for the glare Kurt was shooting her. She was nervous, not for her, not for Kurt but for Rachel.

For Rachel, who is going to be staring in a Carmel High School production of Wicked! as Elphaba, replacing the original Carmel High girl who was supposed to be the green witch. Jesse had somehow recommended Rachel to Carmel's Dramatic Arts Department, stating that she has no doubts to play Elphaba at such a late notice since she knows the play by heart.

"Santana," Kurt hissed, placing a hand on her jumpy knee. "It's almost time, can you please calm down?"

"How can you expect me to calm down when it's my girlfriend up there?"

The pale boy huffed in annoyance, "Imagine if Rachel was your wife performing up there, I bet you'd pee in your pants,"

"Shut it, Hummel,"

"You're not denying it,"

"Whatever," she waved it off, trying to be nonchalant. "Just be grateful that your face is still in contact and your clothes are not on fire,"

Kurt gasped, "You wouldn't,"

"Don't provoke me,"

The boy nodded furiously that Santana got a headache just by watching him. "Noted,"

"Welcome ladies and gentlemen to Carmel High School's own production of the Emmy-winning Broadway musical, Wicked! Please ensure that all electronic devices are switched off and that no food or drinks are allowed in the auditorium. Please do enjoy the show and thank you for your attention!"

"Relax, Santana. Just think of Rachel performing in your bedroom, only for you."

The said girl drew in a deep breath, closing her eyes briefly to let her imagination fly. A small smile appeared on her complexion and her tensed shoulders finally relaxed and Kurt was proud of himself. They both sat next to each other at the fourth row, directly in front of the stage with the perfect view; not too far, not too near.

The lights dimmed and Santana could hear the auditorium doors clicked shut. Santana heard a series of whispers two rows behind her, the topic concerning the original Elphaba and how they hoped her substitute will do her justice.

Forget justice, she'll blow your socks off.

Santana glanced at Kurt before her hand flew out and gripped the boy's pale hand. She was glad that the boy didn't say anything and just squeezed her hand in return, a silent sign that he understands how she's feeling. "Show time," he whispered.

She watched as Glinda descends onto the stage in her bubble, saying a few lines towards the handful of people that had gather at her feet. Santana wasn't listening, to be quite frank since she caught the eyes of her beautiful green girlfriend backstage.

Rachel was wearing a black coat, covering her grey shirt and a long grey skirt with her skin as green as ever. Despite the green, Santana couldn't help but let out a soft gasp at how beautiful Rachel was. Her brown hair was tied into a side braid, and her eyes were wide with delight. This was Rachel's dream, being an entertainer and singing her lungs out, because that's it; that's her passion; her love.

Rachel caught the Latina's eyes and shot her a grin. Santana returned the smile with a big two thumbs up and silently mouthed "Break a leg,"

Smiling so wide that her face might crack, Rachel looked around her and sent Santana a flying kiss, winking when Santana blushed despite her tanned skin.

The moment Rachel stepped out onto the spotlight, Santana felt as if all her breath had been taken away. She felt as if her lungs were crushing her and she couldn't even feel the pain, all she could feel was the proud feeling that was exploding in her. The sight of her girlfriend on stage, doing what she does best, made a single tear ran onto Santana's cheek.

/

"You were perfect as Elphaba!" Santana exclaimed, hugging the brunette tightly against her. She picked Rachel up before spinning her around, enjoying Rachel's endearing giggle. "You were the only star up there."

They were backstage, a half an hour after the play had conceded. Santana had let Kurt go up to Rachel first, finding their conversation amusing rather than annoying. Kurt had complimented the green paint on Rachel's face and wanted to know if they had painted her body as well. Needless to say, Rachel blushed hard even with the green paint on her face but thanked Kurt for the compliments and for agreeing to come and watch the play. Once Kurt had gone to say congratulations to Glinda, only did Santana headed towards Rachel.

Rachel blushed and ducked her head down. "I- thank you, Santana,"

"I'm serious, you were the only one who stood out. You shined the brightest up there and I couldn't be any more proud," Santana squeezed the girl's arms before lifting Rachel's chin up to look her in the eyes. "You are the best,"

A wide grin broke out on Rachel's complexion, she asked gently, "What was your favorite part?"

"I am torn between Defying Gravity and For Good. I couldn't decide which was better but then again, all of your performances were always the best," she winked.

Rachel shook her head and tiptoed to give Santana a long kiss that left her slightly dazed. She couldn't help but ask, "What was that for?"

"For being you,"

Tears began to well up in Santana's dark orbs because all her life, she had been living a charade. She wasn't herself, she was living under a shadow and to be someone you are not, well, that was hell. She didn't want to be the bitchy cheerleader who got everything in her way; she wanted to be the girl who knows how it feels to love and to be loved. And to know that Rachel knows and appreciates her for her, well, that was exactly what Santana needed.

The girl leaned down, cradling Rachel's face gently in her hands as her fingers began stroking the soft baby cheeks. Her lips met with Rachel's in a sweet passionate kiss and she was fairly certain that a few tears had managed to slip out. She could feel Rachel smile against her lips despite the salty taste that had interfered. She kissed Rachel again and again and again until her lungs couldn't take it anymore, until she had to pulled away for air.

"Rachel Berry, I love you,"

And in that moment, everything just stopped. Santana's breathing stopped, Rachel's mouth was hanging out, Kurt's conversation with Madame Morrible was left hanging, even the footsteps and voices of the cast and crew. Everything stopped except for Santana's mind that was reeling with possibilities that Rachel might not feel the same way. What if she had misread the signs? What if she had just imagined the love she saw in Rachel's eyes in a few moments? What if Rachel doesn't feel the same way? What if Rachel breaks up with her? God, if she does, Santana would cry because she's positive that she has fallen deep for the girl and for Rachel to brea-

"I love you too, Santana Lopez,"