Paperweight

chapter 18

It's a wonderful feeling, one that Santana rarely gets to experience, waking up to silence. Well, New York's loud version of silence.

99 per cent of the time, Quinn wakes up before her, and seems to think breakfast is synonymous with time to wake Santana up in the most annoyingly loud way possible. Whether it's by having the radio blaring the latest obscure indie band she's obsessed with, singing in the shower, or banging around loudly in the kitchen, Santana usually wakes up to some form of racket echoing around the apartment.

And if it's not any of those, it's usually Rachel, and sometimes Kurt, using her apartment for a two-person Glee Club reunion. There is a time and a place for Cell Block Tango, and that time is never before noon and that place is never Santana's apartment.

So for the next few seconds, Santana just relishes the silence and snuggles further into the bed, before she realizes exactly whose bed she's in, and the entire previous night comes crashing back to her.

Her heartbeat picks up, and a massive smile breaks out involuntarily on her face. She hopes Brittany isn't like, watching her sleep or something, cause she's probably going to look insane suddenly grinning like a madwoman in her sleep.

She brings her hand up to rub at her eyes as she sleepily blinks them open, rolling over to look for Brittany when it registers in her half-functioning brain that she doesn't feel the blonde's warmth wrapped around her.

The dorky smile drops off her face to be replaced by a frown when she realizes she's alone. There's a brief moment where she thinks karma's come around to bite her in her perfectly toned ass and that Brittany's left, but that thought is immediately shut down by two things. First of all, she's in Brittany's apartment. It's not like the blonde can do a runner from her own home. Secondly, now that Santana's more awake, she can hear faint music and singing coming from the other side of the closed door, indicating that she's not alone in the apartment.

If Brittany's making breakfast for her she may just propose marriage on the spot.

She rolls over again to lie on her back, stretching out her limbs and yawning, rubbing the rest of the sleep out of her eyes. Sunlight is just starting to filter in through the curtains, and a glance over at Brittany's Adventure Time clock tells her it's just after 9am.

She lies there for a few more minutes, an idiotic smile on her face as she replays the entirety of last night in her mind. The whole room, and the sheets she's wrapped in both smell of Brittany and of sex. Adding in that Brittany's bed is really fucking comfy, Santana wouldn't mind staying right here the rest of the weekend.

Especially if Brittany were to join her. Naked.

Untangling herself from the sheets, Santana swings her legs over the side of the bed, deciding to actually get up and go find Brittany. The cool air hits Santana's still-warm bare skin, and she shivers, walking over to Brittany's dresser and opening the top drawer, looking for some clothes to throw on.

After pulling some too-big red sweatpants and a white tank top on, Santana pushes open the bedroom door, immediately finding the source of the music she heard earlier as the radio playing quietly, while Brittany's standing at the kitchen counter, humming and wiggling her hips to the song playing.

Santana's mouth goes dry when she notices Brittany isn't wearing pants, just a long tshirt that barely covers her ass, and she folds her arms, leaning against the doorway as she drags her gaze up Brittany's legs, a flush shooting through her body when she remembers having those same legs wrapped around her the previous night.

She watches Brittany take a gulp out of her mug of what Santana assumes is coffee, judging by the aroma around the apartment, and stretch up to open a cupboard above her, the tshirt riding up and revealing the red underwear she's wearing.