Love From an Angel (Brittana) ✔

4: Hungover

Brittany's POV

I was not in a good mood the next morning. Santana wasn't in the bed anymore, so her sweet scent and comforting presence no longer lingered. My head felt like it was run over by a truck a million times, and I could still practically taste the alcohol from last night.

Ugh, how much did I drink? I groaned lightly, my hands instinctively rubbing my head.

"Oh, you're awake," a voice came from the other side of the room. I turned, but I already knew who it was. "You okay, Britt?"

"Stop... yelling..." I complained weakly, earning a tiny chuckle from Santana.

"Sorry," she stage-whispered. "I only got up to take care of some things. I have a Tylenol and water for your probably terrible hangover. I was gonna come back, but you're already up so-"

"Stayyyyy," I whined, moving so she had enough space. She let out a breathy sound before I felt the bed dip down, her arm wrapped gently over my shoulder.

My head stopped spinning so much when her warm breath hit my ear, and I snuggled closer to her.

"Do you remember anything from last night?" She asked cautiously, as if she knew something that I didn't.

I hummed as I attempted to recollect my thoughts. I remembered draining a cup or maybe two, which wasn't good because I knew I couldn't hold my alcohol. I tried stripping, but luckily Santana was sober, and she stopped a huge accident. The rest came back in tiny flashes: sharing that disgusting kiss with Sam because of Spin-the-Bottle, mentioning that Santana's lips looked like chocolate.

I froze with a sharp intake of breath. I said I wanted to taste Santana's lips. I wasn't even sober for our first kiss? That was disappointing. And even more so, I couldn't remember if she kissed back, or if she was horrified by me and my drunkenness.

"Oh my God," I mumbled, forgetting my that face was pressed on the crook of her neck. "I didn't kiss you, did I? Oh my- oh my God. My precious Angel Unicorn. What have I done-"

My panicked breaths ceased when Santana pulled me closer, her intoxicatingly sweet scent wafting around me. I swallowed dryly, slightly overwhelmed by our close proximity.

"Yes, we kissed. You tasted like alcohol," she chuckled at that, earning a groan from me.

"Of course I did. God, I'm so stup-"

"You're not stupid, Britt," Santana cut me off. "You were drunk. It's forgivable. Now if you kissed me without my consent-"

"Wait you let me kiss you?" I could feel my heart practically racing at her words.

I didn't know why I was so excited about it. Maybe because she wasn't disgusted by me. Maybe because I might have a chance with her.

"You're a really sensitive person when you're drunk, Britt. If I told you no, I didn't want you to get mad and run off and go somewhere and get hurt."

I smiled softly because of how much she cared. Everyone said she was a coldhearted bitch, but she just never showed her caring side to anyone other than me. Why? A question I asked myself every day.

"You're the bestest friend in the world," I sighed happily as if I was watching an adorable romance movie.

I felt her smile against the side of my head. "And I will never let you be alone. You'll always be my best friend."

Something about her words disturbed me. I didn't know why, but I didn't like the sound of just friends. Did I want more?

No, what was I thinking? We shared one, maybe two, drunk kisses. That doesn't mean we could just get married and have a million babies and adopt a bunch of cats. Well, that was a bit far-fetched but that was totally not the point.