The Girl Next Door (Brittana Fanfic)

Chapter 3

It's the quietest hour of the evening and not even the nocturnal creatures of the night can be heard. Santana Lopez takes advantage of moments like these, having time to think about everything and anything – it was the only time she could. Tonight she sits on her window ledge, letting her legs dangle freely and holds a torch in her right hand.

Click.

She turns the device on and points the light on the back of her left hand.

Click.

Did Anita really mean what she said about her father? Now that Santana was calm, she couldn't recollect a moment that made her believe that he didn't care.

Click.

"You'll always be my number one girl." Santana can still hear her father's warm, southern voice in the back of her mind. "And I will always love you." It reminded her of coffee.

Click.

Days before he had left, he tucked a young Santana into bed and stayed with her until she fell asleep, humming various tunes that he made up on the spot. Santana remembers his dark chocolate brown eyes soaring deep in to hers, looking as if he was the proudest father on the planet. God, she missed him.

Click.

But then why did he just suddenly leave?

Click.

"He doesn't give a shit about you, Santana"

Click.

Santana lets the light burn away at her hand as she allows herself to be vulnerable and feel like a child again. Tears well up in the corners of her eyes and cascade down her cheeks that fall off like fragile snowdrops in to the dark abyss of the night. She shivers in the cold as the wind envelopes her body, sending uncomfortable chills down her neck. Santana hated when people saw her cry and she was in no position to show any sign of weakness, especially at school. 'Bottle it up, seal the jar and get over it.' Her mother used to always say. And so Santana did bottle it up, keeping every minuscule feeling that betrayed her proud external persona locked away deep inside her chest. Then at nights like these, she would find the darkest space and just cry it all out. It was nights like these that Santana realised she had lost all happiness, and nothing could bring that back.

Click.

She closes her eyes now as she raises her left hand up to the sky and spreads out her fingers. When she opens them, she finds the dots which glow in a luminous yellow painted across her skin. As a tear falls down her cheek, a wide smile appears across her mouth. She glances from her hand to the sky which is dusted with stars, switching back and forth. The dots on her hand are co-ordinated to that of Orion's belt, the constellation that shines right above her. She then glances over to Brittany's window.
"Magic." She whispers. Maybe a little smudge of happiness was still left.

[A few hours earlier]

"You won't be able to see it, because it's a special type of paint. But it's magic. Well... Not really, it's actually just phosphorescent paint; scientifically speaking there's no such thing as magic." Brittany muses as she dots invisible spots on the back of Santana's hand, who sits with furrowed brows and looking as if someone just asked her how many rooms are in the empire state building. She looks at Brittany's hands which are covered by white latex gloves as she prods the paintbrush into the small tub.

"If you can't see the paint, then how can you know you're doing it right?" Santana challenges.

"It's like memorising a map, if you travel in that direction long enough then you won't need it after a while. But maps are great recourses so I would always keep one just in case." Santana nods at Brittany's answer, she did have a point.