Glee Oneshots

Dear Santana

Dear Santana Marie Lopez

It's been a year since I received your letter, confessing those feelings. And I guess that it took me a long time to work out how I felt. But you know that already. You know that I'm not good at telling people how I feel.

It's how I lost you the first time.

For the record, I thought you were the prettiest girl I've ever met. I loved the way your hair would hover around your face, and when the light shone through it you looked like an angel. And even though you were kind of gangly, you still gave the best hugs.

And I liked you as well. Like, the same way you liked me. And I know I'm too late to tell you about these feelings. But I heard about you and Brittany. And I want us to try again. I think we could really be something. We have the chemistry.

In my notepad from school, on the back pages, are drawings of you. I would doodle them when you were working. Has anyone ever told you that you stick your tongue out when you are concentrating really hard?

And you were so, so, so smart. Whenever the teacher asked a question, your eyes would light up and your hand would shoot up. I wished I was more like you.

But I was always envious of you. After that first time going to your house, I would pretend that your parents were mine. Especially when I could hear mom and dad fighting and throwing stuff at each other downstairs. I would just imagine that I was at yours, where your parents are still in love.

But it was Brittany who showed you what love is. She had the heart I didn't have. I was cold, and scared. She was warm, and could read people. She knew just what to say to you. And I liked her as well. Not the way I like you, but as a friend. As I said, she always knew what to say.

And you both got closer to each other. I became an afterthought. I was always the last person to know about things. But I was the first to know about you and Brittany.

You were literally making out in the locker rooms. I shouldn't have seen you. But I left my maths book in my locker, and I needed it for the homework. So I went back. And saw you kissing Brittany.

I think that was the first time my heart broke. I didn't realise it then. Ever loving a girl...it wasn't on my radar. I was still waiting for my Prince Charming. But I saw you and Brittany, and something inside of me shattered. The shards cut me from the inside out. I was hurting, and hurt the people around me.

You know that. But you didn't say anything. I had a power over you, and you were scared of me.

You were meant to tell me all about your first kiss. We had read about it in books, and watched endless rom-coms. We planned out our ideal dates. I was the first person to tell you what love was.
But Brittany was the first person to show you.

You wrote your letter to me describing what we used to be. It made me happy. My heart was mended, just a little, and I was flooded with memories. Memories of back when we were young, and didn't have to worry about girlfriends or sexuality or kissing.

I don't want this letter becoming an apology. I've had to apologise too many times, to everyone. So I cut off all ties. I missed reunions, parties, weddings.

I didn't even go to his funeral.

But before that, I went to one wedding. So did you. And Brittany was there as well, but she wasn't dating you. You had broken up weeks before. You had phoned me afterwards, crying. I had tried to give you advice, but I wasn't much help. We hadn't spoken in months, and we had only ever argued before that.

But somehow we ended up in a hotel room together. Your hands traced over my dress, and my fingers tangled in your hair. And you made me feel loved. For the first time, at 19 years old, someone loved me.

We didn't speak after that. But of course you know that. You were out living your life. You were in Louisville. Then you were in New York. Then you were back in Lima. Meanwhile, I was trying to run away from myself. I was scared, and alone. And I know that I only have myself to blame, but that doesn't make it any better.

But, stupidly, I came back for Brittany's proposal. She had sent me a personal text, asking me back to Lima, emblazoned with heart emojis. And I couldn't say no. She hadn't mentioned anything about the proposal. I thought it was just a reunion.

And then she started singing to you. And my heart dropped. And I just knew that this was more than just a mashup.

But then, you got down on one knee. And that confused me. Because it was Brittany who had done every else first. It wasn't until later, when you went up on the roof and saw that Brittany was waiting to propose, and she had been going to do it already, that it all made sense.

You were both on the same wavelength, to the point that you proposed on the same day.
I was irrelevant.

I disappeared after that.

I didn't go to your wedding. You didn't need me. I still have the invitation though, hidden in a box of memories, under my bed. I couldn't face it. Seeing my best friends getting married and making their lives together, it would have been too much. I was still figuring out who the hell was Quinn Fabray. I mean, that's not even my real name.

Don't feel left out. I didn't go to Jesy and Rachel's wedding either, or Tina and Arties (even though she should have married Mike), or to any of Sugar's weddings. I just cut myself off.

Tina would phone me though. She would leave me a voicemail every month, updating me on who was dating who, and who's married, and who got a cat. I never ever answered her calls, but I saved all the voicemails. They're like a diary of sorts.

I remember the day I heard that you and Brittany had split up, for good this time. I was sitting in my bed, listening to music and writing my next article for the LA Times. And Tina's name flashed up on screen, which caught me off guard. Her phone call wasn't due until next week. So I waited until it went to voicemail, then listened.

"Hey Q! So, newsflash. Santana and Brittany have split up, and it's looking like a divorce. This is your chance to shoot your shot. Go for it."

Then she cut off. I sat for ages, taking it in. You were available, and Tina had somehow worked out that I had feelings for you.

So I decided to write you this letter.

It's sort of a response to the one you wrote me, even though that was like a year ago. I still have it, pinned onto the mirror on my dressing table.

We've always been there for each other. Santana and Quinn. Quinn and Santana.

Your letter filled me up a little. I felt loved, wanted.

So how about we try it out. God knows we both need a little bit of loving right now. You're divorcing your wife, I'm falling through endless one night stands.

We're both a little broken. We both understand each other perfectly. It's not going to be perfect. When is it ever perfect for us? But we could try and make it work. I don't mind. I'll wait.

If you do want to try us being a thing, meet me in the Starlight Coffee Shop in New York on the 14th of February. Two weeks today. I'm sending this letter to Kurt and Blaine's apartment in New York. I know that's where you were last, with Brittany. But hopefully they'll forward it on to you, if you're not there.

I really hope you show up. Because I'm not sure about a lot of things.
But I'm sure about us.

Lucy Quinn Fabray x