“God, these vending machines are crap,” Santana mutters underneath her breath.
She kicks the side of the machine to see if she can jostle free the Snickers bar that she forked over her last dollar for, but the candy stays lodged in between the rows.
Santana lets out a groan of frustration, sliding down her glasses with the hand not holding her law textbooks so she can pinch the bridge of her nose.
“Great. Just what I need during finals week,” she grumbles. Santana reaches out and smacks the side of the vending machine a few times, but the Snickers bar just taunts her by shifting just a smidge before stilling. “Fuck!”
A stifled laugh stills Santana’s hand mid-smack and Santana jumps at the noise, whirling around to find a tall blonde with her arms crossed, leaning against the opposite wall.
“Sorry,” the blonde clears her throat, a smirk teasing her lips. “Don’t mind me. Continue.”
Santana flushes slightly with embarrassment, but she straightens her shoulders, eyes narrowing defensively. “Can I help you?”
The blonde just laughs in response. She laughs. Santana grits her teeth. Her tolerance for anything is at negative percent this week and she really needs her damn candy and who the hell does this chick think she is?
The blonde pushes off the wall, striding over to her and Santana tenses in response, but the blonde just crouches down in front of the vending machine.
“Uh, hello? What are you doing?” Santana asks, bewildered.
The blonde looks up at her, running a hand through blonde hair to toss it all over one shoulder. “Helping.” She sticks her arm through the vending machine opening, tongue peeking out of her mouth as her brow furrows in concentration, and the sight is… distracting.
Santana shakes her head free of the thought and shifts her textbooks higher in her arms. “It’s too high up. You won’t be able to reach it.”
The blonde stretches her arm higher, her fingers wiggling up the inside of the machine. “Duh, I know,” the blonde replies, voice a little strained from effort. “That’s why I’m doing… this.”
The vending machine pops open with a click and the blonde straightens, shooting Santana a triumphant smirk as she swings open the front of the vending machine.
Santana’s eyes widen as the blonde plucks her Snickers free and can barely get her hand up in time to catch it as the blonde tosses it to her. The blonde then starts rifling through the rows, gathering bags of candy and chips in her arms.
“You can’t do that!” Santana hisses, crowding closer to shield the blonde from view, who has her arms full of food.
The blonde rolls her eyes playfully. “Oh, c’mon, lighten up. We pay tuition. And it’s finals week. This should really be free.”
Santana gapes at her as she swings the vending machine door closed and pops the door back into place. “That’s not how it works,” Santana splutters. “That’s not how any of this works. That’s stealing.”
The blonde stuffs her pockets full of her loot and she lets out a dismissive scoff. “See, I like to think of it as creative redistribution.” That infuriating smirk reappears on the blonde’s lips, as blue eyes twinkle with amusement. “But I mean, I totally get why you would think that. Being a law student and all. No judgment here. Get it? Judgment?”
Santana just blinks as the blonde grins at her. “Are you stalking me or something?”
Slender fingers reach out towards Santana and her heart skips a beat but the blonde’s knuckles just knock against the stack of law textbooks in her hands. “Nope. Just observant. You’re welcome, by the way.”
Santana huffs but her craving for chocolate hits her again as the hollowness of her stomach makes itself present. “Thanks,” she mutters reluctantly.
“Anytime…?” The blonde trails off, smug grin on her face, obviously waiting for Santana to fill in the blanks and provide her name. Santana hates to admit it, but it’s a little charming.
“Santana,” she relents.
The blonde’s blue eyes brighten at the new information. “You are very welcome, Santana.” The blonde steps to walk away but before Santana realizes what she’s doing, her hand is reaching out and encircling the blonde’s wrist.
“Wait,” Santana blurts out. “You didn’t tell me your name.”
The blonde arches an eyebrow, blue eyes glancing downwards at Santana’s fingers around her wrist before glancing back up to brown eyes. Santana immediately drops the blonde’s wrist, her fingers tingling.
“Brittany,” the blonde offers, pink lips stretched in a smile. Santana holds Brittany’s gaze for a beat too long before Santana realizes she’s staring and she clears her throat and looks away, her cheeks warming.
A giggle erupts from Brittany and when Santana looks back up at her, that smirk is on those pink lips again and Brittany’s head is cocked as she gives Santana this look that she can’t quite make out.
“What?” Santana asks self-consciously.
Brittany’s smirk grows. “This is totally happening, huh?”
Brittany casually shrugs, gesturing between them. “This.”
Santana lets out a laugh in surprise, heat creeping up her neck. “I don’t even know you.”
Brittany takes a step closer and Santana’s fingers tighten around her books as her stomach swoops with Brittany in her personal space. “Sure you do. I’m Brittany and you’re Santana and you like chocolate and abusing vending machines and we’re totally gonna happen. What else is there to know?”
Santana rolls her eyes playfully at the grin on Brittany’s face, confident and wide. “Well, when you put it that way...” Santana trails off dryly but the corners of her mouth twitch upwards unwittingly.
Brittany’s eyebrows shoot up and her grin grows wider. “So is that a yes to the date I’m taking you to tomorrow night?”
Santana laughs. “Thank you again for the chocolate,” Santana doesn’t answer, “And try not to make a habit of stealing, Brittany.” Santana turns and walks away and smiles when she hears Brittany calling after her.