Santana enjoyed teasing Blaine probably more than anyone else. His rebuttals && offended expressions were pure gold. If reactions were currency, Blaine would be a millionaire. The small jabs at his fashion or perky personality never seemed to bring him down. That was something Santana valued in a person. Thick skin. If you can stand up && take the blows, while still understanding that they mean no harm — you’re officially worthy of the Lopez’s presence. Blaine was one of the few who could prove time && time again, that he was beyond worthy. It wasn’t just the same old game with him. It was pure, almost ecstatic, FUN. “Why? Does it make you uncomfortable? Are you really that unacquainted with your disco stick?” Her lips pulled into a confident grin as she threw the joke in his face. She really was having a good time. A nice comparison to some of the harder days she’d experienced these past few weeks. Santana’s cheerful laugh followed his expression when drinking the straight alcohol. Maybe she was a little tipsy already, but that was just making tonight all the more fun. “Knew you always had the hots for me, Anderson.” she teased with a smirk, slender fingers gripping the bottle to snatch it back. She did always had to have the last word after all.
Laughter, beyond buzzed and maybeDEFINITELY heading towards a little bit drunk, bubbled out of him and blended with Santana’s a heck of a lot better than the taste of liquor from the bottle was blending with his now non-existent tastebuds. Only the weak ones die, right? Hopefully. Of course the chuckles happened after dropping his jaw and steepling his fingers against his chest in a mock expression of utter offense and hurt.
“What if it did? Would you take it back? Probably not. For the record? NO. I’m not offended by it. I’m just more dignified than a man who would use such a term. A gentleman would do no such thing,” he even tried to prove it by huffing indignantly with an upwards lift of his nose. “Or at least we have better phrases for it when we do.” His hand chased after the bottle when she pulled it away. So much for gentlemanly composure when you’re grabby handing at a bottle of vodka. Or was that rum? He forgot. Gasping, Blaine gave her an owlish blink and then bent forward with a shove of his elbow against the back of the couch. “How’d you figure it out? And, let’s be honest and blame it on the alcohol. You’ve always had the hots for me too, Lopez.” A scoff twitched his shoulders up as he waited for the bottle to come his way again and stole the time without it to taunt her just as hard back. “Alas! If my memory serves me right? It can never be. What a cruel life we live..,” his shoulders sagged and he feigned a pout of utter disappointment as he sank back still vodka-less. Double bummer.
Santana was fairly shocked that Blaine didn’t push his point any further. He could be pretty stubborn, but maybe the fear of Santana’s reaction silenced his attempts. Whatever effect she had on him, at least it got his silence. Fighting about Kurt was what got them into this mess — she wasn’t about to go down that same road again. Maybe that showed just how desperate she was to get their friendship back as well. That could be leverage — real proof that Santana cared more than she let off. There were too many times where that got brought to the light. Was she really about to let this be another one?
( mssg » blaine anderson | sent ) Don’t get sappy on me, captain bowtwit. I’m not in the mood. ( mssg » blaine anderson | sent ) We’ll see. ( mssg » blaine anderson | sent ) Don’t get too excited. A conversation can easily man nothing. I mean, do any of us remember anything the leprechaun said while he was in Glee club? Or the jesus freak with pet dreads named after bible characters? Irrelevant. Meet half way, around that park with the coffee stand. You’re buying.
( mssg » santana | sent ) Okay. Sorry. Consider this an official Sap Free Zone. ( mssg » santana | sent ) I’m not letting you give up on me.. No “we’ll see”. ( mssg » santana | sent ) Yeah. No hopes up. Got it. I’ll meet you there around six.
Blaine sat on the bench beside the coffee stand, reading over their last sets of texts while volleying replies back and forth to Rachel. He was pretty sure that his eyebrows were permanently frozen in a shoved together position and his teeth had to let up on his bottom lip soon or they were going to do some damage. No amount of mindless chatter with Miss Berry was going to erase the nervous jitters he had while waiting for Santana to show. Knowing he had one chance to fix what happened between the two of them was wracking his last nerve. Blaine couldn’t bring himself not to try to mend fences. Santana was too important not to give their friendship an effort to save. Regardless of time spent or distance apart, she mattered to him. And they’d all been through too much together to forget that.
Santana was becoming more && more uneasy as the conversation went on. Mostly because she could feel her heart yearning for her to change her mind. To accept his efforts && try to smooth things out. Only, it was unclear whether or not he deserved it. Maybe a conversation like that had to be done in person — but Santana was afraid that seeing him in person would cloud her judgement. He was such a soft spot for the female. How could she stay angry when he was so damn good at cheering people up?
text — blaine anderson; you always victimize Kurt. That’s not the point, but you do. text — blaine anderson; I don’t know what you’re trying to do, because I think it was pretty obvious how you felt before. I don’t think you can change that to resolve a fight. Families split up too. They leave each other. Sometimes just for who you are. text — blaine anderson; Fine, but I want to get it over with. When?
Getting the smallest crumb of hope that he might have the chance to make things right between him and Santana paused his fingers and prevented him from defending Kurt any further. Blaine knew better than to push that topic right now. Any footing he fought to get with her in the attempt to save their friendship would cave in if he kept it up. Fixing this wasn’t an option. He had to. She was just too important to let go. Spending his entire life regretting pushing her away wasn’t something he could live with. He had to TRY.
( mssg » santana | sent ) I know they do but you’re more important than that kind of family. You’re family because we found each other through series of circumstances and whatever else you want to call it that lead up to us meeting one another. ( mssg » santana | sent ) Either way. That’s family you don’t give up on. I can’t. ( mssg » santana | sent ) Really? Great! Whenever you want. Name the time and the place and I’ll be there no matter what.
It was hard to hold herself together at the first text. One part of her was furious. How dare he defend him after everything that happened. Even now, when she was more pissed with the ex Warbler than her original classmate, the initial issues still stood. After all, Kurt was the reason this whole thing started. && He was the reason it ended. Even though in the end it was all Blaine. After all — his actions spoke louder than her words.
text — blaine anderson; I know you get off on being his hero, but don’t victimize him when it comes to my wedding. He doesn’t believe in my marriage, he isn’t coming. If that still stands with him, it still stands with me. text — blaine anderson; It wasn’t his fight, I told him how it is. What I said to him has nothing to do with this. You should know that. text — blaine anderson; I don’t want to talk to you. I know what you think, I don’t need to hear it in some twisted way that makes you sound like the fairy godmother in a knock off cinderella story.
The tip of his loafer began to dig at the corner of the nearest box. He read the messages and couldn’t stop his back teeth from grinding together. A frustrated sigh caught Kurt’s attention and Blaine quickly brushed it off with a roll of his eyes and a half-smile. Why couldn’t they get past this? They’ve all been through too much to let things crumble to nothing. Not now. Not when their lives were shaping into what the rest of their futures would be built on.
( mssg » santana | sent ) I’m not..victimizing Kurt. I’m just telling you the truth. He stuck his foot in his mouth. People do that. We’ve all been there. It was a mistake. ( mssg » santana | sent ) I know I have.. I made one of those mistakes not too many days ago..with you. ( mssg » santana | sent ) I’ll let you go. If what you really want is to never talk to me again, I’ll tell Kurt that I can’t go to the wedding with him. I just want you to know that I don’t want to give us up. You still mean a lot to me. Families fight. It happens. Just.. Can we talk?
She had to take several heavy breaths before typing out her message. How else would this be settled? In person? Through somebody else? One way was too person, the other too immature. Over the phone was just her best bet. Until he crossed her again. Then he’d be making battleground for a fight to end all Glee alumni fights.
text — blaine anderson; I told you straight up that you were uninvited. text — blaine anderson; If I get one more call from Britt saying you and Kurt want to make a big scene at my wedding, I’ll get a restraining order on both of your asses. Save the sappy songs for your next “proposal” text — blaine anderson; Now leave me and my life alone.
Blaine heard his phone chime repeatedly from on top of the stack of cardboard boxes he’d rested it on while they continued packing his things. A confused glance was given to Kurt who was sitting on the couch thumbing out something on his phone. “Was that from–,” he didn’t get the question out before Kurt shook his head and claimed he was talking to Rachel. Only half believing him, a devilish spark came to hazel eyes as he stepped backwards towards the stack of his belongings and picked it up. What he saw instead wiped the smile right off his face. Word definitely did travel fast. “Oh..”
( mssg » satana | sent ) Why would you punish Kurt? He’s done nothing but help you both in every way he can. In spite of what happened. ( mssg » santana | sent ) Isn’t Burt your officiant? It’d be awkward to not have his son there. One fight shouldn’t negate the friendship the two of you have built over years. ( mssg » santana | sent ) I didn’t plan for this to happen. Can we, please, talk? I’m tired of wishing I could do our conversation all over again. And I’m really tired of missing you. Please?
Santana watched him as he scanned the room. He looked to be contemplating, or something. So she wanted to know the extent he’d go to. How much would he question her before listening && pushing his concerns to the back of his mind? That was a question she asked herself all too often. His compliance made her grin, && once he was sat her body shifted his way. “Nice stuff.” She cooed, picking up the bottle of vodka while nodding at the soda water on the table. “Vodka soda, it’s very nice. So are you. Very nice. In a gross way.” she added, though her body nestled beside him to get a sense of absent minded comfort.
Santana settling in beside him made Blaine smile. She was always so warm and soft when she got like this. Of course he gently wrapped one arm around her and settled in for the long haul. It wasn’t the first time they’ve done this and it wouldn’t be the last. Not with Santana’s panache for Friday night vodka and his always seeming to be there to keep her entertained. Or to offer up a snuggle if she needed one. Hey–this version of getting drunk Santana (to put it lightly and kindly as possible) was much better than the one he met years ago in Rachel’s basement. Why not enjoy her company and have a drink to two? “Vodka. Should’ve guessed. Is this the same stuff as last time because I didn’t get a hangover off that. A good sign we’re moving up in the world, huh?” He joked wiggling forward just far enough to grab the glass. Hovering it just under his nose, he took a sniff like he’d be able to tell the difference if he did.
“Warblubber, I need you.” Santana’s voice echoed down to her target as her eyes followed. They trailed up his body with a slow pace. Just so she could soak in what she had. “I’m two drinks in, thinking about people I SHOULDN’T be thinking about, but I refuse to pass out so soon. Accompany me?” Though the notion was sweet, it was clear her kindness was mainly from the liquid courage. Without it, she’d add a few more snide comments for her wall.
Warblubbler? That one was new. Santana must be oh about–yep. He was right Two drinks in. That’s when her creativity for insults usually amped up a notch from deadly if she wanted to–well–sort of adorably nonsensical yet charmingly sweet. Although confusing on how she managed to think them up on the first place. Blaine watched as she slowly trailed her gaze up his body and arched both brows when their eyes met. She had him at ‘accompany me’. Rolling his eyes and puffing out a laugh–Blaine plopped down beside her and nudged a navy blue and gray flannel covered leg against hers. “Such a proper invitation. How can I say no? So! What are we having?”
Santana hated that her heart was breaking. She hated that Blaine was the one who caused it. She hated a lot of things to be fair — but nothing as strongly as this moment. Out of the best && the worst times, she thought he’d always be somewhere in between. He could stay in her grey area && never be anything less or more than a friend. The only other time she noticed how strongly she felt for him was after he’d nearly been blinded by Sebastian. Even though that was in the past, it was still a defining moment for the both of them. It showed them both how much she cared. Blaine wasn’t going to be her free pass anymore. She couldn’t have a simple love. When Santana felt something for someone it was passionate. The love she spread was like a flame && someone always ended up getting BURNED. The entirety of his rant, followed by her own nagging insecurities further proved that point. Santana wasn’t a good person, she just wished it hadn’t been Blaine to prove it. He was her safe place. Even Brittany was on the up && down spiral of Santana’s wild way of loving. They’d hit rock bottom && reached for the stars more times than she could count. There use to be a peace in knowing at least she could have one person untouched by such unpredictable feelings. Now all peace was gone, && she had to face all of the mistakes she’d made && will make again with the people she loved ALONE.
Hearing that same voice that once meant comfort && serenity sparked something within Santana. She was going to walk away, because she new things were hitting rock bottom. It was such a powerful feeling of negativity && hatred. Both of which were safer being dealt with alone. Bringing herself down was a one way path to a day or two in solitude. That kind of pain was nothing compared to the retaliation of her taking it out on another person she cared about. She chose that path already, && she didn’t want to make the same mistake two times in a row. Of course, Blaine couldn’t leave it alone. He couldn’t accept that he’d been cruel. He couldn’t live with himself being the villain. When she felt his hand on her elbow she snapped. There was no going back now. With a sharp turn Santana raised her hand && delivered a slap that rang out like a thunderclap. The contact sent a shock through her arm as she pulled away. “Stay the hell away from me! Don’t EVER touch me again, && don’t even think about stepping foot in my wedding. You think it’s hard living an unforgiving life, where you’re the villain? You have no idea how painful it really is. Trust me, Blaine, it never gets better. ” With harsh words spat in his face she backed away, feeling tears fall as her heart willed her to stop. To erase what had been said && making it work. She wanted them to WORK. It just didn’t seem possible anymore. So again she chose to run away, making her way out the door.
Blaine was in an anxiety ridden panic to get her to stop. She deserved to be told what she said hurt the person he loved cared about far deeper than Kurt stood there and let on. Enough that if he had to hear about it from Rachel and be asked to call Kurt himself. That he was struggling to keep his head above water without being involved in everything since they all decided to return home. That his world was thrown even more off the very thin layer of concrete he just laid down to get his footing when KURT made ‘not being involved’ impossible by ceasing to be out of sight, out of mind (not really but it was getting easier with Dave and therapy and all the work he put into rebuilding his life HERE) and was right there, seemingly everywhere Blaine turned. Maybe not that extreme but it felt that way because he couldn’t stop thinking about him or his state of mind or ‘I’m going to earn your forgiveness and then I’m going to win your heart back’. He listened to Rachel, he called Kurt and maybe that was the mistake that lead to this. One more painful bundle of choked out words of Kurt being okay heard over the phone? Here he was. Lashing out at the one person who trusted him completely with a friendship that the both of them held very near and dear.
Through distance and time apart, they would always reconnect because Blaine knew what he meant to Santana. Santana knew what she meant to him. They had a connection. Something in the background of all the friendships that had their ups and downs and everywheres that often surrounded the whole group. They were different. They understood what it was like to have family members who wished the closet locked from the outside. To doubt themselves in the middle of figuring who they were out. ‘I used to pretend I was so confident because it was easier than being terrified after that night, you know?’ They were sitting on the stage at McKinley. Santana still so terrified of being forced out in the open. His and Kurt’s plan to make her feel better failing miserably. Blaine talked to her in whispers. So no one could hear their secrets. ‘My Dad liked it better and Dalton helped me slowly become that. Mostly. There were days when I still wasn’t as sure of myself as I made sure everyone thought I was. Sometimes those days happen now. Please don’t tell anyone and I promise no more duets.’ She knew parts of him no one else did. Vice versa too. A flash of white. A loud crack. Pain and heat across his face. Blaine tasted copper from where he bit tongue. Still. It took him half a second to compute…she hit him. In shock, wide eyes blinked owlishly but his touch was gone and he didn’t move an inch. “I-I won’t. I’m sorry,” came out broken and he watched her retreat towards the hall knowing he shouldn’t follow. It’d only make things worse. Instead–tired legs carried him to the first desk they could reach and he sat down heavily, limbs giving out like a marionette with it’s strings cut. Elbows cracked against the desk and he used the heels of his palms to rub a forehead bent down into them. The ache on his cheek was still there as a physical reminder of the fact that maybe this time? He’d just joined the ranks of everyone else in her life. And that was more painful than the sting.
Wow. After sifting through all of your heartwarming words of endearment? Believe it or not? I miss you, too, Santana. I’m sorry I didn’t reach out sooner. I’ll make sure to never let it happen again. Deal? Where have you been anyway?
Santana huffed at his persistence, but at least she stopped yelling. That probably wasn’t helping her case in the least bit. “Having emotions is so embarrassing.” The complaint was truly how she felt, but she couldn’t help but faintly smile at how ridiculous it sounded. Blaine was always good at bringing out her best side. “I know. You’ve made that painfully clear. I’m just not like you. I don’t get to talk about how I feel all the time. It’s hard for me. Kinda seems like you’ve taken a page from my book though. So we’re both in an emotional rut… Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to be there for each other. It’s just my freaking instinct that makes me push people away, but I can try to open up. If that’s what you wanted…”
Pinching his bottom lip between his teeth–Blaine kept his stare down at his wrists peeking out from his knees where he stowed away his hands between them. Shoulders hitched and he snuck a peek at her, wary and not wanting to put too much on her shoulders when she had enough weight there with her own feelings. Two seconds ago–he was begging her to talk. To lean on him. Not just to support her. But in that support–there was a counter lean where she’d be his, too. But he wanted to be careful. He was always careful with her. Because so few people in her life ever really were. Only when he was sure he wasn’t forcing her to talk to him–a few words that slipped past her lips were confirmation of that in her own unique way of saying she might let herself need him–Blaine freed a hand and offered it to her rather than stand up. It was a please but a means of letting her back out one last time if she deeply wanted to. “We don’t even necessarily have to talk? We could just sit here and that’d be fine with me. Whatever you want just,” he glanced at his hand and back to her. “If that’s okay?”
pianokeysandbowties back up 