Chapter 6

Disclaimer: I don't own Glee.

/

A palpable silence envelops the whole room, Santana's eyes glossing over with unshed tears as she waits for Brittany to say anything.

To yell at her. Throw something at her.

Anything.

Because anything would be better than what she's getting right now—nothing.

"Brit..." Santana walks towards the still numb woman, squatting in front of her on the floor before gathering cold, pale hands into hers—just nudging Brittany to look at her. "Please, Brit... please say something." Santana pleads.

Brittany unconsciously does what she's told, finding herself looking into those brown eyes that she loves so much. She's sitting there, with no clear picture of how they got there. Her mouth is dry and she can feel the rapid beating of her heart. She starts feeling a pressure burning between her eyes, behind them and couldn't work out if it's tears or a tension headache that was threatening.

"What do you want me to say, Santana?" Brittany looks at her, resignation painted all over her face.

"I don't know..." Santana whimpers. "Anything. Do anything. Say whatever you will. Yell at me! Slap me—"

"What would that prove?"

"Nothing. I just—" Santana continues to sob, "just please hurt me. Hurt me back." The actress breathes out brokenly.

"You know I would never do that, San." Brittany looks at her sadly.

"I'm so sorry, Brit. I didn't mean to. I was just so drunk and out of it—"

"Do you remember anything?"

"No. I only woke up with—"

"Do you know her?"

"No, I—"

"Okay." Brittany says flatly, pulling Santana out of her current position and into her lap before she circles her arms on the actress' hip, hugging her tight.

"Brit..." Santana's eyes widen in disbelief, "Okay?"

"Yeah." Brittany nods, her hold on Santana getting tighter.

"What do you mean..."

"It means I forgive you"

Santana stares at Brittany for a second, not a single thought in her head.

Brittany stares right back at her, her expression is… hard to read. Her face is careful, watchful, and her eyes shadow and Santana couldn't tell what she's thinking.

No, that isn't entirely the truth. Santana couldn't tell what Brittany's thinking but what Brittany's feeling is just so plain for the actress to read. After a long history together, the ability to know and understand Brittany's emotions became second nature to her. She acquired this ability almost instinctively, right off the bat when she first met the blonde.

"Brit, don't you think we should talk about it more?"

"Why?"

"I don't know. You just can't forgive me that easily." Santana mumbles softly, her eyes not betraying the confusion she's feeling.

"You were drunk?"

"Yes, but—"

"Was it an accident?"

"Yes—"

"Do you want to be with her?"

"Of course not! I don't even—"

"Then we're fine. I forgive you."

"Brit, it's not that simple."

"Why not?"

"I don't know."

"Do you love me, San?"

"I do. Of course I do!"

"Good. That's all I need to know."

"Brit, I think we should talk more about this. Figure out why I did what I did—"

"I don't care." Brittany replies, the words came out of her mouth instinctively, with neither forethought nor malice. At this point, Brittany already reached her limit with everything. She just could not take on anything else. She can see the shock on Santana's face, yet this time she doesn't falter. She braces herself against the onslaught of emotion that she would feel at the sight of Santana's distress. Unable to maintain eye contact for a second longer, she wraps her arms around Santana, looking away from the woman's distraught expression.

"Brit ..." Santana's voice is faint.

"San ... just don't."

"Brit, listen to me..."

Despite herself, Brittany turns to look up into her girlfriend's face.

"There's more ... that you need to know...and I don't think you'd be—"

"You know what? Save it." Brittany finally snaps out, her eyes flitting from Santana to the space behind her, not really able to distract herself.

"Brittany…"

"No. You can keep it. I don't want to hear it. I mean it, Santana."

"Brit—"

"We're fine! I already told you I have forgiven you! That's it. End of discussion!" Brittany huffs, roughly pushing Santana off her lap before jolting out of the couch and heading towards their bedroom.

"Where are you going?"

"I'm going to our room. Take a shower. Go to bed. And I expect you to be there." Brittany says monotonously before marching into the master's bedroom.

/

Santana is propped against multiple pillows, one arm tucked up behind her head and the other holding on to her cigarette—her tenth in the last hour or so. She is wearing a plain white tee-shirt and shorts, lounging on the divan in her trailer as she waits for one of the set's errand boys to come and tell her to get ready.

It's been a little over a week since wrongfully admitted to Brittany the reason behind her cheating.

No, she wasn't that drunk.

Sure, she was tipsy, but she knew what she was doing.

A couple of Rachel's friends, or friends of her friends, Santana could not be sure (and she's pretty sure Rachel didn't know more than half of her guests) — held an impromptu 'mini concert', forming a band of five as they sashayed across the stage, singing their hearts out. Santana could still remember how her eyes were instantly glued to the short, voluptuous woman with dyed blonde hair and from then on, she remembers how she tried to get the woman to join her on her side of the room. When she did, Santana went on the offensive, sprouting words of flattery and what not.

Of course she did it only when she was sure that Rachel's more smashed than she was, unaware of the events happening around her.

When they were alone in that bathroom (she didn't wake up next to the woman, no idea what happened; because she sure did), Santana pounced, not caring whether the woman recognized her or not. Yet, she very well might have, considering she's one of Rachel's friends. Or a friend of Rachel's friends.

But no one, not her manager, nor Rachel called to chew her head off after she informed them of what transpired that night. Hours later, Santana would find out from her team that the woman herself could not remember a thing from Rachel's party after she drank her tenth glass of tequila.

Of course, Rachel was livid. But her anger was foiled by a different reason.

Brittany doesn't need another reason to hate me!

That was her concern.

With a bitter laugh, Santana finishes her latest cigarette, knowing that she'll be lighting another one in no time.

She could never be described as being inarticulate, quite possibly the very opposite but neither heaven nor hell could drag the words out of her mouth when she was talking to Brittany that night. She allowed herself to be cut off numerous times, unable to tell Brittany what she really wanted to say.

Please let me go.

The things that she wanted to say to Brittany right then and there, didn't come. It wasn't just that she didn't know how to say the words; it was that she couldn't express them. She barely knew what they were. That night, Santana didn't know how to communicate to Brittany how she felt, what she felt. She couldn't name the emotions that rampaged through her and so she used the only thing that made sense to her, the single means of communication between them that needed no words. Santana used their passion for each other, that undeniable craving that she had for Brittany.

And for a while, things were alright again.

But now that she's alone, having the time to actually reflect on what the hell she was thinking and doing, she's completely ashamed.

/

Rachel and Santana had just finished a relaxing spa treatment from Beverly Hills Hotel Spa when the duo decided to head back to the Broadway diva's place to get some much needed rest.

"Is everything set for your party tonight?" Santana asked, turning the car's radio on before Rachel could decide what to listen to.

"Of course." Rachel looks at Santana pointedly, offended that her organizing skills was being questioned.

"I'm just asking, okay? No need to look at me like I said something blasphemous." Santana huffed, only for her hand to still the moment the car was filled with that voice.

Let it go, let it go
Can't hold it back anymore
Let it go, let it go
Turn my back and slam the door

Rachel's eyes widened comically as soon as the realization dawned on her. She looked at her friend, who seemed to be so broken.

The snow glows white on the mountain tonight,
Not a footprint to be seen.
A kingdom of isolation and it looks like I'm the queen.
The wind is howling like the swirling storm inside.
Couldn't keep it in, Heaven knows I tried.

"Did you know that that song isn't really about—" Rachel tried to explain, as she noticed Santana's eyes glaze over, and the actress looking so heartbroken, only to be cut off by the actress.

"Rachel, just stop talking please."

The snow glows white on the mountain tonight
Not a footprint to be seen
A kingdom of isolation and it looks like I'm the queen
The wind is howling like this swirling storm inside
Couldn't keep it in
Heaven knows I tried"But you shouldn't take the lyrics at face value—"

"I said shut it!"

Don't let them in, don't let them see
Be the good girl you always had to be
Conceal, don't feel, don't let them know
Well now they know

Let it go, let it go
Can't hold it back anymore
Let it go, let it go
Turn my back and slam the door
And here I stand
And here I'll stay
Let it go, let it go
The cold never bothered me anyway

It's funny how some distance makes everything seem small
And the fears that once controlled me can't get to me at all
Up here in the cold thin air I finally can breathe
I know I left a life behind but I'm too relieved to grieve

With one final sigh, Santana immediately moved to stop the radio.

"Santana, I know what you're thinking—"

"She once told me that she wouldn't write any song that isn't about me."

"Things change, Santana. You know that. It was just a song that she was asked to write for a movie. Nothing more." Rachel tried to reason, but as she gazes at Santana, she knows that any efforts at placating the woman would prove to be futile in the end.

"So she finally gave up, huh?" Santana forced a smile. "That's good. I mean, I'm with Brittany and I've told her a long time ago to stop sending me things and stuff." Santana ranted, hoping to cover up the pain that seeped through her body at the thought of Dani finally letting go.

/

Santana lets herself into the house and drops her set of keys in the gourd on the side cabinet in the hallway. Brittany's keys are still there, signalling her presence. The blonde's car is nowhere to be found, which makes Santana think that Brittany must have left earlier, and had someone drive her back home.

Which all the more means that Brittany couldn't drive because...

Brittany's drunk.

Santana sighs as she walks down the hall, vaguely aware of the tingle in her shins. The shoot finished early in the morning and instead of coming back home right away, she decided to go out for a quick run around the set location. She desperately needed some air and what's more, she needed to compose her thoughts and she needed to calm down before getting home.

Shame and loathing settles within her stomach as her mind drifts back to the events of the past week.

She cheated on Brittany.

On purpose.

All because she couldn't handle the emotions she felt when she heard Danielle's new song.

With a bitter laugh, she shakes her head. She went on a run because she didn't want to go home. Yet again,she was running away from her troubles.

From herself.

She ran to calm and compose herself but as she approached the room she shares with Brittany, Santana's hands are shaking and her heart is beating out of her chest. As soon as she enters the master's bedroom, she's greeted with the sight of a disheveled Brittany, sprawled on the bed, still fully clothed.

And awake.

"Brittany..." Santana falters, her voice breaking at the first attempt as she takes in Brittany's appearance.

Brittany looks bad.

The blonde looks up and narrows her eyes slightly at Santana. "You went for a run." It isn't really a question, but Santana nods in answer anyway.

"I've been calling you all night."

"I was on set."

"You still should have called me back." Brittany's voice is expressionless, but she watches Santana's face closely, almost assessing what is going on behind those brown eyes.

Santana bites her lip and then takes a step towards the foot of the bed, studying the woman on it. Unsatisfied, she takes another step before she's sitting on the edge of the mattress, looking directly at Brittany.

She's known Brittany for over twenty years.

Twenty years.

That's a lot of years. A lot of history together.

She owes it to Brittany to give their relationship a try.

"Brit... please... I ... I've got to talk to you." Santana whispers as she watches Brittany blinks rapidly and opens her mouth, already shaking her head. "Please Brit... please I ... I just need you to hear me out..." She pleads. "Please, Brit."

Swallowing hard, Brittany pauses and then nods once, propping herself up the bed with the help of Santana, her lashes fluttering for a second as she looks into Santana's face, but then she drops her gaze and starts fiddling with her fingers.

Santana shuffles closer beside Brittany, holding the wringing hands tightly in her own.

"Brit... I am so...so sorry... for not calling you back... last night..." Santana pushes the words out quickly and then clenches her jaw shut. She wants to look at the floor or at their hands ...or anything than at Brittany's face but she couldn't look away. "And I am so, so sorry for hurting you... I will never ever do that to you again... Brit, I am so...so sorry."

Brittany's eyes flicker up to Santana's face, and she sighs.

"Santana...a lot happened to us...and you really, really hurt me." Brittany shrugs, her eyes back on their intertwined hands. "And let's just," Brittany sighs again before continuing, "Let's just draw a line under it, okay? I... I don't want to talk about it the cheating anymore. Let's... just leave it, okay?"

"Brit..."

"San, I love you. And I accept your apology. I believe you when you say you'll never do it again. Believe me when I say that I'll never let you, not again. So let's just leave it there, okay? Please."

As Brittany looks up into Santana's face, for a tiny moment, she sees it. Just behind the surface, Santana's eyes radiate panic, maybe fear.

"Brit..." Is all Santana could offer.

Brittany unexpectedly bends and kisses Santana, their lips instinctively molding together, each offering a kind comfort to the other.

"There's one more thing though, San."

"What is it?" Santana asks expectantly.

"Just please, don't hurt me again." Brittany cradles Santana's gorgeous face in her hands, urging Santana to look her in the eye. "Please, San. I can't take it. Not anymore." Brittany pleads. "Please? Promise me?"

Swallowing the lump in her throat, Santana could only nod in agreement,

"Pinky promise?" Brittany holds out her pinky finger for Santana to take.

Santana does.

/

Later, when Brittany has fallen asleep, Santana finds herself in the shower, her face buried in her hands.

Unable to take it anymore, she allows the lump to expand up into her throat and explode into a shower of tears.

/

New York, A week later

Dani props her feet up the table, enjoying the view of the city from her balcony as she takes one long drag of her cigarette. Beside her, her laptop lies open, the news of Santana's and Brittany's relationship all over the internet for the world to read.

/

Star: Brittana is On — It's Always Been On!

It's out! 27-year-old movie star Santana Lopez and TV-actress Brittany S. Pierce, are romancing each other!

"They're dating," says a pal close to the couple. "It seemed new, but they've been friends since they were five and have hooked up during their teenage years. They officially became girlfriends when they were both high school juniors," adds the source.

PHOTOS: Brittany lifting Santana after they were adjudged the National Cheerleading Champions.

The young couple have been spotted canoodling and sharing a tender kiss during a lunch date at Ivy's a couple of days ago, ending speculations on Lopez's much-discussed sexuality.

"Brittany is Santana's greatest love and vice-versa," the same source tells People. "They've been planning their wedding since they were five!"

How cute is that?

And as soon as the photos of them sharing the infamous kiss in the restaurant surfaced, sending the whole world in frenzy, people have been curious on what their story REALLY is. So we did our own digging and look what we had found: not just photos of them kissing but the two of them in a sex tape!

VIDEO: Santana Lopez Nude Lez Boobies Sex Tape Mexican or Dominican question mark

Reps for both actresses have yet to comment on the issue.

So was Dani Harper purposely placed on the way to cover up this scorching romance? Our reliable source agrees, "Santana was never with Dani."

Stay tuned for the next chapter of this developing story!

/

The loud ringing of her phone snaps Dani out of her musings. Without looking at the caller ID, she immediately answers the call.

"Yeah? All set?" She nods, letting the information sink in. "Of course. I think, the better question is, is LA ready for Dani Harper?" Dani asks with a smirk.

Did I still beat the deadline?

NO?

Would saying that I'm already starting on the next chapter make up for the delay?

All mistakes are mine!