Hi everyone! It's been awhile huh? Okay so this is a new story I'm testing out. I won't continue it if I don't have more than 5 reviews and I'm not sure yet how long it'll be. So give it a read, review and hopefully I'll have another chapter up soon!
Disclaimer: I do not own Glee or any characters or plots used in the story.
Quinn's P.O.V
I never understood the need for a babysitter at my age. Santana's parents left her alone all the time, why couldn't mine? I'm sixteen after all. It just wasn't fair. None of it. Why should parents be allowed to just leave their kids with some, some stranger, while they go off and have fun.
Ding Dong.
He was here. I looked up at the tatty clock hanging on the wall behind me. 6pm. He was here at exactly 6 o'clock. Just like he had said to my mother yesterday. Letting out a rather long and exaggerated sigh, I groggily got up off the couch to open the door. Just as I make my way around the couch, my mother unfortunately - or fortunately? - beats me to it.
"Sam, Sam, come in! Russell and I were just about to leave!" Judy hurries him inside the house and I go back to watching whatever program was still on the television. Honestly, I didn't care one but for the fact he was here.
It's pathetic, really. I am sixteen. Sixteen, and my parents still think I need a babysitter. Do they not know the key word in that. Baby. Thanks for the trust, guys. I pick up the remote from the arm of the couch and flicked to another channel - another cliche horror movie.
It takes a whole 20 seconds before the screen goes black, and the television set turns off. Groaning in frustration, I turn my head and look around to see the culprit. "Hey! I was watchi-" My lips pressed together in a straight line as my eyes meet with an unfamiliar pair of grey and blue swirls. Something shifts inside me and I'm surprised to see my 'babysitter' is definitely not what I expected.
Knowing my mom I presumed he'd be some decent-looking church boy, who clearly has nothing better to do on his Saturday nights. Probably scrawny and geeky too. Instead, I met with this guy. Or should I say man. How old was he? Nothing about his appearance really speaks 'boy' to me.
His shirt is barely containing his muscles, and the simple shift in his body causes them to ripple. His hair is this dirty blonde and is slightly askew and falling in his face but it has this sexy bad-boy appeal to it. And oh god, his face. His eyes are these perfect mixes of blue and grey, they're so intense..just boring right into my own, as though he's trying to decipher every single thing about me without saying a word, and it takes me a while before I realize that I'm blatantly drooling over this, this perfect man.
This perfect man who probably thinks I'm some bratty, spoilt teenager who needs a babysitter at sixteen. Great.
I glance down at my lap and can feel my face heating up quickly. I have a newfound interest in my nails, but truthfully I was just searching for something to save me from his stare. I swallow thickly and note that he's not even trying to cover it up. No. Instead he's added this stupid smirk, as he watches me squirm, and that seems to make him that much damn sexier. And it's irritating, because I just know I'm going to be dealing with this all night.
My parents leave without a fuss - or a goodbye for that matter - and within the first hour, Sam's managed to position himself practically on top of me on the couch.
It's innocent. Really. We were watching a movie, the popcorn was resting on the arm of the couch beside me and he simply shuffled close enough to reach it. But we both knew it was more than that. He's had this fucking cocky smirk plastered on his face the entire evening and as endearing as it is, he's only doing it to piss me off.
Bastard.
Little does he know I'm in the perfect position to kick him in the balls. Unfortunately his looks dissuaded me from doing so. He was like an intensified version of Noah Puckerman. And he doesn't even begin to realize how bad that is.
It's near the end of the movie that it happens. And it was completely unintentional.
I managed to bring the bowl of popcorn into my lap, securing it with one hand in case he tried to reach for it. You see, not only is he a bastard, but he's also a pig. Every goddamn five seconds he's reaching over, grabbing a fist full of popcorn - managing to drop half across my lap, and shove the rest in his mouth without looking. I'd say about 5% actually make it to his stomach.
He so innocently reaches for the popcorn, though his eyes remain glued to the screen in front of him. I move the bowl out of his reach though the action seems to go unnoticed, instead his calloused fingers brush against my bare upper thigh. The gasp wasn't intentional - then again none of this was - but it slipped out. Partly from my shock at the warm yet rough contact, but mostly at how it felt. He wasn't about to know that. I pulled his hand away and placed on his own lap, horrified. My skin feeling unusually cold at the lack of contact but I tried to ignore it as he sat there in amusement.
Placing the bowl aside, I smacked him bare in his stomach, only to hurt my hand. He must live at the gym. Partially embarrassed, I stand up, and simply walk upstairs to my room.
He chuckles. He fucking chuckles. Though the sound is pleasurable I'd never admit it. No. Because he's doing this just to spite me. And it's working.
He'll see.
What do you guys think? Good? Bad? Should I continue? Any reviews are welcome and encouraged.
