Fic: Where You Should Be, Pezberry, PG
Title: Where You Should Be
Pairing: Santana Lopez/Rachel Berry
Rating: PG
Words: 933
Summary: Santana misses Rachel.
AN: 'cause listening to this song gave me feels, angsty feels and so i had to write them down and get them out.
Santana gingerly shut the door and leaned against it, basking in the fact that she was finally home. She leaned her head back against the door and took a moment to sink into in the calm and silence that greeted her before she slipped out of her black Manolo’s, leaving them in the hallway next to the door. She could get them tomorrow or sometime later, sometime when she didn’t feel like the world was crashing down around her.
The launch of her company’s new product was coming up in about a week and today had been filled with nothing but snags. Roadblocks appeared everywhere and members of her team had come to her all day, nearly breaking from the stress. If it hadn’t been for Tina, her superhuman C.E.O., somehow managing to calm the team while getting Santana the contact information she needed to untangle the bureaucratic red tape that was threatening her company’s livelihood, there would’ve been a breakdown of massive proportions. Santana had taken to calling Tina “Moneypenny” about a month after hiring her. The woman was a true lifesaver for Santana. Today had been too close though. Far too close to everything teetering over the edge into oblivion, for all of Santana’s dreams to go spiraling down the drain. They’d managed to get past everything though, it took Santana staying in her office well into the night with Tina faithfully by her side making sure Santana had everything covered, including keeping her temper in control, but by the time work started again tomorrow everything would be back on course.
Santana didn’t even bother turning on the lights to her loft. Her penthouse’s exterior walls were glass and she never closed the curtains. The lights of the city below her were more than enough illumination to get around, even when getting home at nearly one in the morning. She had to be at work in five hours and didn’t want to exert more effort than she had to. Her eyes were hurting enough with her contacts having been in for longer than they’re supposed to, she didn’t want the artificial lights of her loft making that pain worse. Besides, the darkness suited her mood.
Days like these were especially hard. She was used to Rachel being there when she got home. Santana hadn’t truly appreciated the way that Rachel would greet her at the door with a kiss and two fingers of her 21 year old Balvenie. The rough days where everything seemed upside down made the loneliness that Santana was living with become overwhelming, as if she were drowning. Rachel was supposed to be there, beside her helping Santana get through it all. Nights like these made Santana feel like giving up. She questioned the point of achieving her dreams if Rachel wasn’t there with her. What was the point in victory if you couldn’t properly celebrate it?
Santana really wished that Rachel was with her right now, even if she was prattling on incessantly like she was prone to do. Just so Santana would have something tangible to latch onto, a physical reminder of why she’s doing this. Santana understood, she truly did, Rachel had to follow her dreams too. Just like Rachel would’ve never allowed Santana to give up on her company, Santana would’ve never let Rachel pass on headlining a show in the West End. Understanding the situation didn’t lessen the pain or the loneliness, though.
She didn’t know how long she’d been standing there, her forearm above her head rested on the glass wall, propping her up as she looked at the city below. There was a puddle of condensation on the hardwood floor below the untouched glass of scotch held by her other hand. She pulled away from the window, standing up, and drained her glass in one go before placing it on the coffee table as she headed to her bed. Santana shed her clothes as she went, leaving a trail of high end custom tailored clothes along the way, she just didn’t want to bother.
Santana eyed the phone on her nightstand before crawling into bed. She yearned for Rachel to be there, in bed with her, giving Santana everything she didn’t know she needed. It had been far too long since she’d seen Rachel, her scent had long since faded from the pillow Santana had taken to cuddling in her absence. She tried to sleep, but the exhaustion and loneliness and alcohol caught up to her and the next thing she knew was Rachel’s pillow was damp from tears. Santana just really fucking missed her wife who was thousands of miles away doing who knew what with those costars of hers, when Rachel should be in bed making Santana feel better.
At three in the morning, the phone rings interrupting Santana from a half-sleeping half-sobbing sleep. She doesn’t bother putting her glasses on to read the caller ID, everyone knows not to call her unless it’s important. Santana’s almost hoping for a reason to go back into the office, drown herself in some code and forget everything else for a while. Santana mumbles a greeting as she answers the phone and rubs her hair off of her face.
“Santana?” Rachel’s voice sounds tinny coming through the line and Santana almost believes that she’s dreaming it. “Honey, are you there?”
“Rach?” Santana’s voice sounds scratchy and raw from exhaustion and crying, she couldn’t hide it if she tried.
“I’m sorry for calling at such an obscene time, but I was just missing you so much and I needed to hear your voice.”
Pairing: Santana Lopez/Rachel Berry
Rating: PG
Words: 933
Summary: Santana misses Rachel.
AN: 'cause listening to this song gave me feels, angsty feels and so i had to write them down and get them out.
Santana gingerly shut the door and leaned against it, basking in the fact that she was finally home. She leaned her head back against the door and took a moment to sink into in the calm and silence that greeted her before she slipped out of her black Manolo’s, leaving them in the hallway next to the door. She could get them tomorrow or sometime later, sometime when she didn’t feel like the world was crashing down around her.
The launch of her company’s new product was coming up in about a week and today had been filled with nothing but snags. Roadblocks appeared everywhere and members of her team had come to her all day, nearly breaking from the stress. If it hadn’t been for Tina, her superhuman C.E.O., somehow managing to calm the team while getting Santana the contact information she needed to untangle the bureaucratic red tape that was threatening her company’s livelihood, there would’ve been a breakdown of massive proportions. Santana had taken to calling Tina “Moneypenny” about a month after hiring her. The woman was a true lifesaver for Santana. Today had been too close though. Far too close to everything teetering over the edge into oblivion, for all of Santana’s dreams to go spiraling down the drain. They’d managed to get past everything though, it took Santana staying in her office well into the night with Tina faithfully by her side making sure Santana had everything covered, including keeping her temper in control, but by the time work started again tomorrow everything would be back on course.
Santana didn’t even bother turning on the lights to her loft. Her penthouse’s exterior walls were glass and she never closed the curtains. The lights of the city below her were more than enough illumination to get around, even when getting home at nearly one in the morning. She had to be at work in five hours and didn’t want to exert more effort than she had to. Her eyes were hurting enough with her contacts having been in for longer than they’re supposed to, she didn’t want the artificial lights of her loft making that pain worse. Besides, the darkness suited her mood.
Days like these were especially hard. She was used to Rachel being there when she got home. Santana hadn’t truly appreciated the way that Rachel would greet her at the door with a kiss and two fingers of her 21 year old Balvenie. The rough days where everything seemed upside down made the loneliness that Santana was living with become overwhelming, as if she were drowning. Rachel was supposed to be there, beside her helping Santana get through it all. Nights like these made Santana feel like giving up. She questioned the point of achieving her dreams if Rachel wasn’t there with her. What was the point in victory if you couldn’t properly celebrate it?
Santana really wished that Rachel was with her right now, even if she was prattling on incessantly like she was prone to do. Just so Santana would have something tangible to latch onto, a physical reminder of why she’s doing this. Santana understood, she truly did, Rachel had to follow her dreams too. Just like Rachel would’ve never allowed Santana to give up on her company, Santana would’ve never let Rachel pass on headlining a show in the West End. Understanding the situation didn’t lessen the pain or the loneliness, though.
She didn’t know how long she’d been standing there, her forearm above her head rested on the glass wall, propping her up as she looked at the city below. There was a puddle of condensation on the hardwood floor below the untouched glass of scotch held by her other hand. She pulled away from the window, standing up, and drained her glass in one go before placing it on the coffee table as she headed to her bed. Santana shed her clothes as she went, leaving a trail of high end custom tailored clothes along the way, she just didn’t want to bother.
Santana eyed the phone on her nightstand before crawling into bed. She yearned for Rachel to be there, in bed with her, giving Santana everything she didn’t know she needed. It had been far too long since she’d seen Rachel, her scent had long since faded from the pillow Santana had taken to cuddling in her absence. She tried to sleep, but the exhaustion and loneliness and alcohol caught up to her and the next thing she knew was Rachel’s pillow was damp from tears. Santana just really fucking missed her wife who was thousands of miles away doing who knew what with those costars of hers, when Rachel should be in bed making Santana feel better.
At three in the morning, the phone rings interrupting Santana from a half-sleeping half-sobbing sleep. She doesn’t bother putting her glasses on to read the caller ID, everyone knows not to call her unless it’s important. Santana’s almost hoping for a reason to go back into the office, drown herself in some code and forget everything else for a while. Santana mumbles a greeting as she answers the phone and rubs her hair off of her face.
“Santana?” Rachel’s voice sounds tinny coming through the line and Santana almost believes that she’s dreaming it. “Honey, are you there?”
“Rach?” Santana’s voice sounds scratchy and raw from exhaustion and crying, she couldn’t hide it if she tried.
“I’m sorry for calling at such an obscene time, but I was just missing you so much and I needed to hear your voice.”