Bound By Destiny - Brittana

Party

1 week later

Damien walked into Brittany's room at one in the morning, his curiosity piqued by the loud crash and her subsequent curse. As he peered into the dimly lit room, he tilted his head in confusion. Brittany was sprawled on her stomach on the floor, furiously writing in a book.

"What are you doing?" Damien asked, breaking the silence.

Brittany jumped back, startled. "What the hell!" she exclaimed, clutching her pen like a weapon.

Damien moved to lay next to her, his curiosity unsatisfied. "I'm just writing," she said, a hint of annoyance in her voice.

"Why at midnight?" Damien asked, his tone more curious than accusatory.

She shrugged, not looking up from her book. "I write better at midnight."

He chuckled. "Yeah, right. Last time you wrote at night, you made 'my cup'."

Brittany gasped, her face flushing. "I was dehydrated," she stammered, her eyes darting away.

Damien smirked. "You can clearly tell it was about eating out a girl."

Brittany's face turned a deeper shade of red as she avoided his gaze. "How old were you?" Damien pressed, his voice teasing.

"Fourteen," she mumbled, barely audible.

"Gross," Damien gagged, the revelation making him recoil.

Brittany shot him a look of irritation. "You had sex dreams at eleven. Do you know how traumatic it was to hear you at night?" she retorted.

Damien flushed a deep crimson, quickly scrambling to his feet. "Uh, that's irrelevant," he muttered, embarrassed.

Brittany laughed, giving his leg a playful kick. "Leave before Mom or Dad hear you," she said, her laughter

The next day Damien woke to the sound of knocking on his door. Groggy and disoriented, he scratched his wild blonde hair and stumbled to the door. Opening it, he found his father, Michael, who walked in without a word and headed straight for the closet.

"What are you doing?" Damien asked, frowning in confusion.

Michael grabbed some clothes from the closet. "We're going out around 5 PM," he said, his tone brisk.

"That's like hours away. Why did you wake me up?" Damien complained, rubbing his eyes.

Michael turned to glare at him. "It's 2 PM," he said pointedly.

"Oh," Damien mumbled, the realization dawning on him.

Michael thrust the clothes into Damien's hands. "Get dressed in these and have a shower. You stink," he ordered.

Damien rolled his eyes but knew better than to argue. With a resigned sigh, he waddled his way to the bathroom.

————

Hector stood still, letting his wife, Maribel, fix his tie. He smiled at her, a mix of excitement and disbelief in his eyes. "I can't believe it's happening," he said.

Maribel nodded, her expression tinged with melancholy. "It feels weird knowing she will be moving out soon."

Hector hummed thoughtfully. "We can't have her here forever."

Maribel's frown deepened. "Is the only reason you signed her up for this to get rid of her?"

Hector chuckled. "No, obviously not. I knew Brittany would be Santana's type, but I'm just saying she needs to be independent."