❤ ♫
Brace yourself. This is going to be a long ride.
❤ five times my muse says they don’t love yours, and the one time they admit it.
As Lucas nudged her to move forward, Ray could only bite her lip and push him back a little, not ready to go up to the edge of the field. He’d been bugging her for weeks to go talk to Santana, to admit that she ‘loved’ the Latina in a way beyond their platonic friendship. And as she looked over to the woman on the field, how she was shouting orders and had that stupid, cocky smirk on her face, the only words that came from her lips were denial. “I do not love Santana Lopez.” She walked over to the bench, snagging one of the soccer balls off of it and moving toward the practice field off to the side. “Come be my goalie Luke. So I can land half of these in your gut.”
Prom. She never thought that a private academy would have prom. But here she was, buying a suit to match her non-existent date’s dress. Her sisters kept asking her who she was going to ask to go with her, but she didn’t see the problem in going stag, Rachel even suggesting asking ‘that girl she liked’ and immediately the younger girl’s walls shot up. “I don’t like her. Don’t be stupid Rachel.” She never told them who the mysterious girl was, or how it was her best friend and she couldn’t acknowledge how she felt about her. I don’t like Santana like that. There’s no weird unrequited love. I’m not about that life. But somehow the words didn’t seem to be as convincing as she wanted them to be. They never were.
Football wasn’t exactly Ray’s favorite sport in the world, not by a long shot. Soccer and rugby came before it, but here she was at the homecoming football game with Santana’s jacket on like they were some couple or whatever. They weren’t, even if people thought they were and kept asking her if she’d finally replaced Quinn. She’d snap at each person, “I’m not dating Santana. I don’t like her like that.” Even if it was obvious to everyone how she looked at the Latina. There was a connection there and she knew that there was deep down, she just refused to acknowledge that maybe she did like Santana like that. Maybe it was more than just a crush she had when she first saw the girl. Maybe now it was scary. No. It couldn’t be. I don’t like Santana like that. She’s my bro, my buddy.
Ray didn’t know what the hell she was even doing walking up to Santana’s home, knowing that she probably wasn’t even home. But the small brunette hadn’t seen Santana in nearly a week, which was unusual for the duo. They saw each other nearly every day, or at least spoke. But they hadn’t even had that yet. Knocking on the door, she half expected there to be no answer, but what she got was actually worse than that, even if she didn’t really know how or why it was worse. But as a pink haired Quinn Fabray answered the door, she felt like she was now two foot three and not five three. “Berry. What do you want?” The former blonde snapped, eyes glaring daggers into her small form. “I just wanted to see if Santana was home or not, I hadn’t seen her in a few days and I thought we could shoot some hoops. You’re not her keeper Quinn.” That’s when it hit her, Quinn was there. Why was Quinn at Santana’s? She never was there unless Santana had the kids and that had only been to drop them off typically. Then as her friend’s voice rang from the house ‘Babe, come back the movie’s on,” something came over Ray and she bolted, not wanting to think about her heart shattering for no apparent reason, or the way her stomach twisted in knots. She didn’t want to admit that maybe she had a reason to feel this way. She didn’t have a reason, she couldn’t. But there it was, that feeling of jealousy rising in her throat. I don’t love Santana, I do not.
Berry. Get your head in the game. She’s out there, she’s watching. Just play. You need to keep the team in the lead. Stop making it a big deal that Santana took time out of her busy life and her girlfriend’s demands for attention to come to your stupid soccer game. She’s just your friend and there’s nothing that you should be excited over. She’s come to plenty of your games, granted not while she’s dating Quinn but still. She cares. She’s your best friend. Ray’s inner monologue was going nuts as the brunette kept getting distracted during her match, almost costing them a point or two. All to search for the Latina that had been rather distant for the past two weeks. Sure it wasn’t too terrible because they still were in the same Chemistry class, picking each other as lab partners. But it still kind of stung that her friend ignored her, even if the feeling in her gut wasn’t just that it stung. It rang more of a jealous tone to it. but that didn’t matter, she couldn’t think about that. She had a game to focus on.
Ray took in a sharp breath, walking up to Santana in the middle of the dance floor they’d turned the roof into, “Would you like to dance?” She asked quietly, hands trembling slightly as she tried to push her nerves back. She was asking Santana Lopez to dance, it wasn’t like it was someone like super intimidating or that she could possibly impress. Santana had seen her at her very worse. But she’d also seen her at her very best. And the fact that she stuck around might be the very reason Ray was so nervous. Or the fact Quinn Fabray was glaring daggers at her as she held her hand out to her best friend. “It’s just a dance Quinn, I promise. One dance and she’s back to you.” That was when Quinn snapped, accusing her of trying to win Santana over, that she was in love with her or something of the sort, to which the small brunette felt all her walls shoot up at. “I-I don’t love Santana. She’s my best friend Quinn. Grow up and get over it.” But something in her voice showed she didn’t really even believe her own words, so how could everyone else. Did she love Santana? She couldn’t.
Things hadn’t been adding up this entire time she’d been sitting across from Santana and Quinn, the girl she’d brought on this ‘double date’ having dipped about twenty minutes prior. She wasn’t comfortable bringing someone else and she didn’t know why. It wasn’t that she was ashamed of her sexuality or anything. It wasn’t even that it was a situation with Quinn. It was how overly affectionate the punk girl was with Santana, how over the top everything was and how it made her stomach twist in knots. Each kiss they shared, Ray ducked her head, wanting to melt into the booth. And each time she’d try to excuse herself so they could enjoy their date, Santana had asked her to stay, seeming to be sincere. So she did, she didn’t know why, Santana was just a friend and she should be able to tell her friends no, but something about how Santana looked at her made her want to stay. And as she stared off into space she began to day dream about Santana and her, romantically. That was off the wall sort of thinking however and she snapped back to attention, turning bright red and once again saying she could excuse herself, only to be met with Quinn asking if she was uncomfortable with their relationship. Her main accusation once again being that she was in love with Santana. And before she could stop herself, Ray snapped, “Maybe I am. What’s it to you Fabray.” Slamming her hand over her mouth, she darted out of the building without looking back, wallet and jacket still on the seat beside her.
♫ five times my muse swears it’s not a date, and the one time it maybe is.
They were walking through the park in the middle of the afternoon, sun beating down and birds chirping. Ray had that silly picnic basket and they were heading towards the small duck pond. It was just her and Santana and it felt weird because she was used to at least someone else tagging along and making things seem less intimate. But something about today felt different. Ray had brought her art supplies, some of them at least, and packed them a decent lunch. It was sort of an apology for missing Santana’s game she’d promised to be at, and the Latina seemed okay with that. But it wasn’t a date, she made that clear to Quinn when she was approached, they were just friends. The Fabray didn’t like Ray, and she never had approved of their friendship really, but Santana evidently didn’t care. But as the afternoon wore on, and they slowly slipped closer, Ray found her mind trying to convince her heart it wasn’t a date, even as she cuddled into Santana. Even as Santana took her hand as they walked back.
Movies were something friends went to together, and were never specifically a date like activity. But going to a horror movie together? When one of you always grew scared during them? That was a more date like scenario. Right? No, it couldn’t be a date, at least not tonight. Sure Ray didn’t always get scared during horror movies, but this one was scary, and she couldn’t help but curl into Santana. The Latina’s arm was around her, it was a natural feeling to cuddle into someone when that happened. This was totally a platonic situation, they were kind of in the middle of the theatre, watching Lights Out, so it shouldn’t be absolutely without a doubt a date. They were just best friends. Maybe closer than most best friends really were, but there was nothing between them. Santana had Quinn, and Ray had… well she had her art. But even as Santana left a kiss to her cheek, Ray had to remind herself that this wasn’t a date, it couldn’t have been a date. They were friends. Nothing more.
It was just a late night homework session, but the atmosphere was something completely different from what she was used to. She was surrounded by candles and Santana had made her homemade food, but that’s everything that she usually did. They’d meet up at Santana’s place and watch TV or do homework and Santana would always insist to cook for her, even though they both made plenty of money to order take out now and again. It was kind of romantic if she thought about it, but she didn’t think about it she refused to let herself think about her best friend in anything other than a platonic light. That would just lead to her fucking up her friendship with the Latina. But there was something about tonight, and the way that Santana looked that suggested maybe that wouldn’t mess stuff up.
Prom. They’d gone as friends, nothing more. That’s what they’d both insisted but as she stared into Santana’s eyes during the last slow dance of the night, Ray couldn’t help but feel butterflies in her stomach. There was such a connection between them, she couldn’t deny that she was feeling something for Santana beyond friendship. Being the proud woman she was however, she refused to admit it out loud when she was alone, so saying it directly to the Latina was beyond the scope of things. She was going to swallow her feelings instead of her pride and insist that they were just friends, even as the distance between them continued to shrink, and the smile on her lips was one only the latina could give her.
Ray wasn’t stupid,, she knew that she was in love with Santana Lopez. She also knew that there was no way Santana would ever love her back, after dealing with the mess that the Berry girl was for the past two years. However, one night when she showed up for a jam session, the usual crowd wasn’t there, Santana was dressed up nice, and had announced that they were going to dinner first. Looking down at her clothes, Ray felt mildly underdressed compared to Santana, but the Latina had evidently prepared for that, as she thrusted an outfit toward her to change into. This wasn’t like the woman, but Ray didn’t argue, changing and letting herself be taken to dinner. She’d expected they’d split the bill like normal, but as they pulled up to a higher end restaurant, her eyebrows raised. Was this what she thought it was? Throughout the dinner Santana took her hand, or made eye contact that left Ray a flurry of butterflies. And when Santana paid for the meal? Ray couldn’t help but read even further into it, letting her mind think maybe it was a date. But the deciding factor came as Santana dropped her back off at home at the end of the night, and the light kiss to her lips confirmed that it was, indeed, a date.
