Five Brittana Drabbles (1/1)
Title: Five Brittana Drabbles (1/1)
Author: cranberry_pi
Summary: Five 100-word drabbles, with no real connection between them apart from them all being Santana's POV.
Pairings: Brittana
Length: 500.
Rating: PG-13 for language and themes, I guess.
There are times that I look back at my life and despair. There has been so much time wasted, so many opportunities lost. I have been given so many chances to be happy, and I turned them down. Out of fear, out of cowardice, or out of self-hatred. But then she moves in the bed beside me, mumbling nonsense in her sleep, and I’m reminded that I should be living in the now, not looking back at the mistakes I’ve made. And so I wrap my arms around her, kiss her gently and whisper “I love you, Brittany Pierce-Lopez. Always.”
I wish I could make the world see her like I see her. They think she’s dumb - fuck them. She’s smarter than any of them, smarter than they could ever hope to be. I’ve never in my life met a person more insightful, a person more able to see the heart of a person. She forgives more easily than she should, but that’s because she can’t find hate inside herself. And I condemn anyone who thinks that’s a bad quality to have. She even made me a better person. She helped me learn to love myself. I’ll love her forever.
It may have been the cheesiest line ever when I leaned over, after explaining that the pepperoni in her bra was actually her nipples, and told her that I’d love to taste her pepperoni. It took a few minutes for her to get it, but when that little smirk curls up the corners of her lips, I knew she’d understood. When she asked to go to the bathroom a few minutes later, I only managed to wait for a minute before asking to leave as well. I think they knew, but I don’t care. I tasted her that afternoon. Repeatedly.
I never thought I’d be here. I still don’t know how she talked me into this in the first place, except that she probably pouted. I can’t resist that damn pout. Which is why we’re standing on the sidewalk in Cleveland, watching a gay pride parade. She’s drunk on some kind of fruity martini, and she’s clinging to me like she’s afraid I’m going to run away on her. Which, hey, I can’t really blame her for - I’ve got a history. But not this time. Today I’m in love with this girl, and I don’t even care who knows it.
I’m just glad we got to go together - I couldn’t have handled being left behind. Granted, I wish we’d been older than twenty-three when it happened, but I’ll take what I can get. It was a pleasant surprise to find out that yes, there is an afterlife, and yes, you get to be with the people you love. I wish she hadn’t seen herself in the car before I pulled her away, though. Even though she knows she’s here with me, and it’s forever, I still think she’s haunted by it. All I can do is love her until she’s okay.
Author: cranberry_pi
Summary: Five 100-word drabbles, with no real connection between them apart from them all being Santana's POV.
Pairings: Brittana
Length: 500.
Rating: PG-13 for language and themes, I guess.
There are times that I look back at my life and despair. There has been so much time wasted, so many opportunities lost. I have been given so many chances to be happy, and I turned them down. Out of fear, out of cowardice, or out of self-hatred. But then she moves in the bed beside me, mumbling nonsense in her sleep, and I’m reminded that I should be living in the now, not looking back at the mistakes I’ve made. And so I wrap my arms around her, kiss her gently and whisper “I love you, Brittany Pierce-Lopez. Always.”
I wish I could make the world see her like I see her. They think she’s dumb - fuck them. She’s smarter than any of them, smarter than they could ever hope to be. I’ve never in my life met a person more insightful, a person more able to see the heart of a person. She forgives more easily than she should, but that’s because she can’t find hate inside herself. And I condemn anyone who thinks that’s a bad quality to have. She even made me a better person. She helped me learn to love myself. I’ll love her forever.
It may have been the cheesiest line ever when I leaned over, after explaining that the pepperoni in her bra was actually her nipples, and told her that I’d love to taste her pepperoni. It took a few minutes for her to get it, but when that little smirk curls up the corners of her lips, I knew she’d understood. When she asked to go to the bathroom a few minutes later, I only managed to wait for a minute before asking to leave as well. I think they knew, but I don’t care. I tasted her that afternoon. Repeatedly.
I never thought I’d be here. I still don’t know how she talked me into this in the first place, except that she probably pouted. I can’t resist that damn pout. Which is why we’re standing on the sidewalk in Cleveland, watching a gay pride parade. She’s drunk on some kind of fruity martini, and she’s clinging to me like she’s afraid I’m going to run away on her. Which, hey, I can’t really blame her for - I’ve got a history. But not this time. Today I’m in love with this girl, and I don’t even care who knows it.
I’m just glad we got to go together - I couldn’t have handled being left behind. Granted, I wish we’d been older than twenty-three when it happened, but I’ll take what I can get. It was a pleasant surprise to find out that yes, there is an afterlife, and yes, you get to be with the people you love. I wish she hadn’t seen herself in the car before I pulled her away, though. Even though she knows she’s here with me, and it’s forever, I still think she’s haunted by it. All I can do is love her until she’s okay.