Disclaimer: I don't own them. If I did, they'd probably go at it like bunnies.
A/N: This one shot kind of got away from me, but I wrote this for Kristin who wanted a fic with nerd!Quinn/popular!Santana snowed in someplace. This is set in the same verse as Watching Your World From Afar. So you're probably gonna want to read that one first. This work is unbeta'd because I'm bad about that and impatient. So, any mistakes are mine. Oh and a special thanks to Misty for reminding me about this verse. It was fun to come back to these two. Anyway, enjoy.
"My God, even on vacation you're boring."
The words come from nowhere and Quinn has to look up to see that the person is actually speaking to her. She's surprised to find the familiar smirk and blinks when she sees Santana Lopez not but five feet away from her.
"What are you doing here?" She asks suspiciously, looking around for signs of anyone else she might know, though the notion was ridiculous. She was still practically invisible to most of the student body and the friends she did have were nowhere near here.
"My parents own a cabin at this resort. We came up for New Years," Santana explains sitting next to Quinn on the couch, uninvited.
"Ah..." Quinn says, not really sure of what else to say. She's been there since two days before Christmas, which explains why she hasn't seen Santana before now.
She's not really certain what to make of Santana suddenly being there, talking to her. The thing is, Quinn hasn't actually spoken to Santana since the Saturday of her "makeover," which was more of Santana making her dress up in ridiculous and revealing outfits for two hours while Quinn fought her at every turn. In the end, they'd agreed on about four things, one of which were a pair of soft leggings that Quinn is now wearing under her oversized kitten sweater that Rachel had given her for Christmas. Santana had seemed disappointed by her resistance, and after that, they had basically gone back to ignoring each other's existences. Well, save for the odd moments that Santana would say things to her in passing or smile at her as they walked past each other in the hallway. Quinn never knew what to make of those moments. So, she simply pushes them aside. Besides, it's a whole new school year and they aren't in any of the same classes anymore. So, she barely even sees the girl.
The silence stretches between them for so long that Quinn turns back to her book just so that she has something else to focus on. She's wondering if Santana will just get bored and wander away. She knew coming down out of her own cabin would be a bad idea, but her mother had been quite insistent.
"Who brings a book on vacation?" Santana asks in a bored tone after another minute.
Quinn tries to bite back her annoyance because Santana makes it sound like the action is abnormal. "Someone who doesn't wish to be bothered while they're reading," she said in an equally bored tone.
She can tell without looking that Santana's eyes are staring into her profile and she does her best not to give away that her stomach is actually churning at the idea of some sort of a showdown between the two. She doesn't know why she feels so bold around Santana, has always felt so bold really, but she wishes her mouth would stop moving before her brain could warn it.
"Is that a hint?" Santana shifts on the couch and she forces her hazel eyes to reread the line she's just read again.
"Astute," Quinn says dryly and immediately clamps her lips together. God, why can't she stop talking?
There's a pause before she hears Santana chuckle. "I see your manners have improved greatly, Quinnie."
This time Quinn's eyes cast to the side, but she doesn't dare correct Santana because she knows the girl is just doing it to get a rise out of her. She's not going to give her the satisfaction. She just "hmms" in response and keeps reading.
"What are you reading anyway?" Santana asks after another moment and it becomes clear to Quinn that the only way she'll ever get to keep enjoying her book is if she humors the girl beside her. She may not have been around her much in the past few months, but she remembers that about Santana well.
"It's The Divine Secrets of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood," she answers. It's not Quinn's usual fare when it comes to fiction, but she'd forgotten her Jane Austen at home and had found these in her room. She's been pleasantly surprised by them and would like to continue reading.
Santana sighs. "Oh, I've seen that movie once. It was only okay."
Quinn nods but only because she has nothing to add and she didn't see the movie. So, there's just no common ground for them to stand on. "Well, I'm sure the book is better."
"Yeah..." The words trail into silence and Quinn can't help but shift awkwardly in her seat. She wants to say something, anything, but she has no idea what because it's not like she talks to Santana everyday. The girl is nothing like her other friends who actually find things to talk to her about and she finds herself wishing Rachel were there just to feel the silence even if Quinn does sometimes find her rambling annoying. "I'm gonna go look around the gift shop," Santana declares, standing abruptly. She shoots Quinn a look that the girl can't decipher, but she nods again."
"Have fun," she says, waving at the other girl lamely.
Ski lodges are only fun for people that like to ski and roast marshmallows over a fire. To say that Quinn is not the outdoorsy type is a severe understatement and if she even thinks of putting a marshmallow anywhere near her mouth, her thighs were are to expand from just the sheer temptation. So, it's still a mystery to her that she finds herself spending the last half of her Christmas vacation sitting in a shared suite with her parents at a resort in some remote mountain town of Ohio. Who vacations in the state they already lived in? Her parents, that's who. All because her stupid brother-in-law, Chad, and his parents had insisted the two families needed to spend the holidays together. Quinn had protested vehemently. There was no reason for her to spend Christmas cooped up with people she barely knew on a holiday that was supposed to be about the story of Jesus, but is, more often than not, an excuse for her parents to get really drunk and dance around like idiots. She could surely suffer that embarrassment in the comforts of her own home and not in front of virtual strangers that now shared a last name with Fran.
Now, Santana Lopez is here and Quinn isn't sure why that bugs her so much, but it just does. She's not quite sure how to feel and after the girl had disappeared the day before, Quinn hadn't seen any sign of her. Something in her is disappointed and that bugs even more. So, here she sat in front of the fire, keeping her mind occupied with old episodes of Doctor Who, wishing that a man in a blue police box would show up and rescue her from all of this. Well, maybe not a man, she'd probably prefer Martha Jones or River Song to show up. Then there was Clara, she thought with a smirk to herself as she watched the aforementioned woman talk the three doctors out of making a terrible mistake and instead save Gallifrey. Yeah, Clara would be a fine choice if Quinn said so herself.
"Hey Quinnie..."
The warm breath on her ear suddenly, made her shiver as she looked to her right quickly, surprised to find the familiar face, smirk firmly in place as the girl crossed her arms over her chest. "Don't do that!" Cringing at the way her voice cracked at the end from lack of use over the past few hours.
There's a gentle chuckle as Santana pulls away, tossing her hair over her shoulder. "I saw that you weren't reading today and I figured it was safe to talk to you." There's a smugness in her grin that Quinn rolls her eyes at and hits pause on her iPad.
"Well, aren't you a clever girl?" Quinn mumbles to herself. She can feel her heart start to beat a little faster and she tries to calm her anxiety. She hates that she doesn't know how to deal with being in this type of social situation. They aren't exactly friends. They're barely even acquaintances.
Perching herself on the arms of the couch, Santana peers obtrusively over Quinn's shoulder. "What are you watching? Porn?"
Eyes widening, Quinn snatches her iPad out of sight. She sputters, trying to find a response, but she trips over her words. "No! I wouldn't...how could you even..."
Santana throws her head back and laughs. "Ohmygod, Quinnie, you gotta relax before you stroke out. I was just teasing."
"I told you not to call me that," Quinn mumbles as she hides her red cheeks. She hates how frustrated she gets when dealing with this girl. It's just annoying.
"Come on. Don't act like that," Santana says getting up and scooting between Quinn and the coffee table. She plops down on the couch beside the blonde just like she did the day before, but not before hazel eyes gets a nice view of the way the gray, woolen skirt hugs Santana's ass. "I thought we were friends."
The words interrupt Quinn's thoughts and she quickly averts her eyes to the other girl's face, frowning. "In what universe are you and I friends? When was the last time we even had a conversation?"
Santana seems unbothered as she shrugs again, leaning back enough to cross her bare legs. "Outside of yesterday? I don't remember." She waves her hand dismissively and Quinn can't help but feel a little dismissed herself. "We're chatting right now. I don't waste my time talking to people I don't like. You know that. Well not unless it's to tell them how much I don't appreciate them assaulting my eyes with their presence."
Okay that is true. Quinn does know that, has seen Santana tell more than one person that very thing, but still this conversation is making her feel weird. "You like me?" She asks before she can figure out why she even cares. She doesn't like Santana. At least, she's pretty sure she doesn't.
The question seems to bring a smile to Santana's face that Quinn can't quite read. It's like she thinks Quinn is amusing or something. "I'm sitting here talking to you, aren't I?"
There is something in Santana's tone that made Quinn's eyes narrow. "Yes, but why is my question." She glances around the lodge and noted how quiet it was, devoid of people. She wonders, briefly, where Santana's family is. She's yet to see sign of either of them. Her own parents were out on the slopes, but they at least came to tell her that. Then a thought occurred to her. "You're bored aren't you?"
"God, low self esteem much? Why can't I just want to talk to you?" Santana questions, sending Quinn a pointed look.
"Maybe because you haven't bothered to talk to me in over nine months outside of the odd pedestrian greeting. My hypothesis has little to do with my actual self worth and has everything to do with conclusions drawn from every other non-forced social encounter we've had," Quinn states plainly. If nothing else, she can be honest enough with herself to admit that she and the other girl have so little in common that it isn't completely out of the question that Santana wouldn't want to spend time with her. Quinn certainly hasn't sought out her company.
"So, you've kept count?" She quips and Quinn just looks back at her, brow furrowing in irritation. Santana rolls her eyes at that and sighs. "Fine, so I'm a little bored because every person here is either as old as my parents or not my type. And then I saw you sitting here and I do actually want to talk to you, but if it's too much of an inconvenience for you..."
Well, now she feels bad. Santana hasn't actually done anything to her to deserve her being rude or untrusting. It's probably not her fault that this how thing sets Quinn on edge. "No, stay. I'm sorry," she offers quickly, it's almost painful to say, but she decides to give Santana the benefit of the doubt if for no other reason than there's no evidence that Santana harbors any ill intentions towards her. "It'll be nice to have company that isn't my parents, I suppose."
That earns her a smile and honestly Quinn has a hard time equating this girl with the one she's seen terrifying students in the halls of their high school. Santana leans in and places her hand on Quinn's shoulder as she shifts, looking over it. "So, what are we watching?"
"Come on, Quinnie. I watched that weird British alien show with you. You have to do this for me," Santana practically whines as she tugs at Quinn's hand.
The blonde plants her feet and shakes her head. "Doctor Who is not weird! It's cleverly written and funny and historically relevant."
She doesn't even need to look at the other girl to know that her eyes rolled in that exaggerated fashion that she's come to equate nearly every one of their interactions over the last two days. "Yes, because people totally watch television to learn shit," she replies dryly, tugging again. "Now, come on."
Quinn shakes her head again. "Santana, it's cold." And Quinn can feel that with the door slightly cracked. "I can't go out there dressed like this!" She glances down at her bare midriff and cringes.
"It'll only be cold for a second and then we'll be in the hot tub and you won't even feel it." She realizes how strong Santana actually is when she finds herself suddenly outside on the back porch.
The icy air whips around her in the still darkness of the night, making her nipples harden beneath the thin fabric of the two piece bathing suit her mother so generously purchased when she'd learned of Santana's desire to visit the hot tub. "So cold..." Quinn whines, trying to cover up.
"Quit being a baby, Quinnie, and get in the tub with me," Santana insists, her feet striding across the cold wood as if it's a summer night instead of the dead of winter.
Quinn looks longingly back at the door before forcing her feet to move across to the hot tub. She steps up onto the side and lifts her leg over the side, slowly dipping her toe into the water. It's a stark contrast to the icy weather and she shivers. One glance over at Santana told her the girl was watching Quinn's every move. Her eyes danced with mirth and the blonde forced herself to look away.
"What?" She mutters, grunting slightly as she lifts her other leg over the side and slips down. She immediately felt more relaxes, the water warming her body instantly.
Santana shakes her head, but never averts her eyes. "Nothing, I'm just wondering why you're being so weird about this."
Quinn frowns and places her hands down on the seat below. "I'm not being weird."
"Bull, ever since you put on that suit upstairs you've been all...spazzy." Santana's hands waved wildly as she spoke and it was Quinn's turn to roll her eyes.
"I'm not spazzy. I just..." She tries to find the words to explain because she remembers stepping out of the bathroom in Santana's cabin and wanting to cover up immediately when the other girl looked. It wasn't lecherous, but Quinn had felt exposed. She couldn't even really explain why, but it had felt almost intimate.
Santana's hands move over and through the water and she regards Quinn curiously. "You just what?"
Shaking her head, Quinn just looks away, feeling even more exposed now than earlier. "It's nothing."
"It's not...nothing. Just tell me."
Irritation worms its way the back of Quinn's neck, making her hair stand on end. "Seriously, it's nothing. Just...leave it alone."
A expression ghosts over Santana's face and she tilts her head to the side. "No, if something is bothering you, why won't you tell me?"
"Why do you care?" Quinn questions suspiciously. "Like what difference will it make if I tell you? When we go back to the real world, it's not like we're going to be friends. We'll simply just continue to act like the other doesn't exist."
"Whoa...harsh," Santana replies and when Quinn's looks over, the other girl actually looks wounded. "I care because I thought we were becoming friends. Seriously, do you think I spend this time with anyone on the usual because I can tell you I don't. So, I don't know why you think I'd start now and I don't know what your problem is, but I've been nothing but nice to you. You act like I'm about to throw a slushie in your face."
Quinn glances up and feels her face burn in embarrassment. "Well, aren't you?"
There's a moment where Santana stills and she actually looks upset. "You know what? Fuck you, Quinn." She stands and moves to get out of the tub.
She feels properly chastised and she knows Santana is right. She isn't sure why she's even being so reluctant because in the past two days, she's really enjoyed the other girl's company, more than she would've ever imagined. So, she's not sure why she's reacting like this. What Santana says is true. She's been nothing but nice. The girl even spent two days watching a show Quinn's sure she still has very little interest in, even though she pretends to like it. And all she's asked in return is for them to hang out in a hottub, something Quinn's sure she really only ever does with her real friends. So yes, chastised in the word to describe how Quinn's feeling at this very moment and it's up to her to fix it.
"Wait. You're right. I shouldn't have said that," she says quietly. Santana stops moving and Quinn feels her move back into the water. She can feel the dark gaze on her and she bites her lip, steeling her nerves. "It's just that I've never worn anything like this before. I don't wear stuff like this. It makes me feel...exposed," she admits, staring at her hands as they move through the water.
"Why not? You look like...you have to know you look hot. Why do you hide your body?" There's no sarcasm in Santana's voice, no malice, and that draws Quinn's attention. She's surprised, unused to such praises.
She's not quite sure what to do with the compliments and she shrugs uncomfortably, trying to hide the tinge of pink on her cheeks. "You...I'm really not...hot," the word feels foreign on her tongue, like someone else is speaking. It's almost like being Lucy again. She can't stop the words from tumbling out in a jumbled mess. So, she takes a breath, tries to calm her racing heart. "I haven't always...I mean, I didn't look like this my whole life." She'd never been perfect, not like she's sure Santana has always been.
Santana doesn't say anything for a moment, just looks at Quinn almost like she's caught up in her own memory. "Right you used to be...well I mean I remember seeing that picture. I mean you almost look like a completely different person."
"Yeah well, there's nothing that a personal trainer, a strict diet, and a nose job won't fix," Quinn says almost bitterly. She should be really grateful for what her parents did for her, what they allowed her to do for herself. It's just, no one ever told her that changing yourself so completely wouldn't actually make you less lonely. It isn't the quick fix to popularity that the movies would have you believe. Lucy was a loser everyone picked on. Quinn is just a loser no one notices. That's not her parents fault. She just wishes she'd figured out a way to make the inner parts match the outer ones.
"I got a boob job two summers ago," Santana says quietly and when Quinn glances at her, there's a look in the girl's eyes that looks almost as lost and lonely as Quinn feels. There had been a rumor going around school about that very thing, but it hadn't directly concerned Quinn and it wasn't exactly all that surprising. She is just as certain now as she was then that Santana wasn't the first girl at their school to get one and she definitely wouldn't be the last.
Only now sitting across from her, she sees more than just the girl feared by all in the hallway. "Was it worth it?" She asks and Santana lets out a little scoff.
"Was it worth it to you?"
It's a fair question and one Quinn's never asked herself. She lets the words sink in, lets them roll around in her mind and gives them actual consideration. "No," she says after a moment, surprising herself. "But only because I did it for all of the wrong reasons."
"Well that makes two of us," Santana says in a sardonic tone. She gives Quinn this little smile when their eyes meet and hold and Quinn finds herself smiling back. The expression Santana's face morphs into faux shock. "Is that a smile on your face? I think it is..."
Quinn's grateful for the heat of the water because she can blame what she is sure is a prominent blush on her face on it. She lets her smile drop and shakes her head. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"Sure you don't." Santana splashes water at her, but it isn't enough to really get her wet. It's almost playful and it makes Quinn's stomach flip. She finds herself smiling again and she isn't quite sure why. "You should do it more often. It looks good on you."
The days following the night in the hottub are filled with Quinn spending most of her time with Santana. They watch more of that "weird show" she likes so much and go into the gift shop and try on silly hats and sunglasses until their sides hurt from laughter. Santana even manages to get her out onto the slopes with the promise of her actually sitting through a Back to the Future marathon when they need to thaw out in front of the fireplace. The excursion is short-lived, of course, because Quinn can't seem to balance on the wooden boards attached to her feet. She makes it about fifteen minutes before it's clear she'll probably break her neck before she actually clears a hill. She'd normally be annoyed by the way Santana can't seem to stop laughing at her, but then the girl makes good on her promise. So, Quinn's oddly okay with it.
By New Years Eve, the lodge is full of guests and once Quinn's mother met Maribel Lopez, she'd practically attached herself to the woman's hip. She's determined to become the other woman's friend, much to Quinn's embarrassment, and spends most of the night talking her ear off about how great she thinks Santana is and how happy she is that she and Quinn have become friends.
"I think your mom has a crush on me or something," Santana jokes when they sneak back to her cabin without anyone even noticing.
Quinn buries her face in her hands and groans. "The sad thing is, I think you're right." It's kind of pathetic, but at least Santana isn't put off by it.
"Too bad she isn't my type," the girl comments, dropping down onto her queen-sized bed with the remote in her hand.
"Don't encourage this or her." Quinn sits beside her and feels a question bubble up inside of her, she isn't sure she should ask. Only, they're something close to resembling friends now, and if she remembers correctly, Santana alluded to the subject when they'd been working on their utopian society. So, she thinks it might be okay to ask. "What does that mean anyway? She's not your type? What is your type?"
There's a shadow of a look that passes over Santana's expressive features, but her lips quirk. So, Quinn thinks she's not offended. She sits up and looks over at Quinn, leaning back on her hands. "My type is hot. Not that your mom isn't an attractive lady, but I mean I like them a tad younger. I used to have a thing for dark hair and dark eyes, but over the past two years, I've gotten into blondes."
Quinn tries to think back to who Santana'd been seen with or rumored to be dating or whatever in school. She can't come up with a single blonde except... "I-oh you mean...oh." So those rumors had been true too.
"Yes, I mean Brittany. I mean, we're just friends now, but she gave me a newfound appreciation for the female form. So, I'm grateful for that." The way she's so cavalier with admission is a surprise for Quinn, but she isn't sure what to do with the information until she reminds herself she doesn't have to do anything with it. It was just one more fact about Santana. One more thing she thought they might have in common. "What about you?" Santana asks, making Quinn wonder if she'd just read her thoughts.
"Me too," the words come bursting out before she has time to process what she's even saying. She clamps her mouth shut and shakes her head, her heart rate spiking. "I mean, I don't really have a type. When, and if, someone ever kisses me, then I'll either rule them out as a potential type or add them to the list." Those words are ones she stole from Rachel, but she was in agreement when they were said and doesn't think her friend will mind. Not that she's ever going to tell Rachel she said them.
"You've never not ever been kissed?" Santana asks like she has trouble believing it, but then again, she's seen guys break up with their girlfriends in the hallway just to be able to stare at the girl. So, she guesses this is probably a foreign concept.
"Nope, not unless you count Tommy Fink in the third grade, which I don't because he only did it on a dare." The memory of that day still bugs Quinn on even her best days. So, she's not even going to go there.
Santana just shakes her head, her mouth ajar in disbelief. "I don't get it. I mean, you're prettier than half of the Cheerios squad, don't repeat that, and they're getting more action than you. How is that possible? I think the boys at school have really been huffing too much paint or something."
Quinn's face feels warm and she shakes her head. "It's not a big deal, honestly. Most of the people at school aren't actually worth my time. I can't think of anyone I've ever wanted to kiss at school even slightly. So, they're really doing me and themselves a favor by staying away."
"Really? There's not a single person you've ever wanted to kiss at school?" The question is a loaded one and Quinn knows it. She's just not sure how to reply.
Truthfully, she can't think of a single person she's even been curious about. Maybe abstractly, there have been girls and guys she's maybe wondered about, but it was never on a personal level because Quinn didn't know very many people personally. But that would probably seem abnormal to a person like Santana so she just shrugs. "I mean maybe one or two people, but no one important. It really doesn't matter, Santana." She picks up the remote from the bed and flicks on the television, seeing that there's two minutes before the ball drops. It's a welcomed distraction from the current conversation and Quinn lets herself get sucked in.
"I think it matters a lot," Santana mumbles beside her, but Quinn just ignores it, since the countdown for a minute has started. "Would you ever kiss a girl?"
Hazel eyes look sideways at her friend and she wonders if this is some sort of trick question, like maybe Santana thinks she has a problem with her being gay or something. "Probably, if one wanted to kiss me. I wouldn't rule it out." And that was the truth, but Quinn refrained from reminding Santana that people would actually have to acknowledge her existence first because she was really getting tired of saying it. It was starting to take its toll on her emotional and mental wellbeing.
Ryan Seacrest begins counting and Quinn's right along with him, thinking she's satisfied Santana's questions when the girl's quiet next to her. She mentally pats herself on the back at navigating the social landmine and lets herself smile victoriously as they near the last five digits that will being 2013 into 2014. When they get to one, she opens her mouth to shout "Happy New Year" at Santana only to be met by firm lips pressing against hers.
It's overwhelming and a little scary because she wasn't expecting it, is completely caught off guard by the action. Her heart kind of stops for a moment and she's not sure what to do. She's really trying not to panic because when she allows herself to think about it, this is really pleasant. It's more than pleasant, it makes her tingle all over. Santana's lips move slowly, encouragingly, coaxing her own until she finds herself responding, kissing back eagerly.
The sound of the party below them sounds far away and adds an odd sense of suspended reality to this moment, and Quinn would let her mind focus on that if it weren't too busy trying to figure out what she should do with her hands. They fold together in her lap until she has to grip at the sheet below her just to have something to hold on to. Santana's teeth sink into her bottom lip, drawing for a sound she's only ever made while eating one of her mother's famous brownies and it surprises her, makes her part her lips, and Santana uses it as an opportunity to slide her tongue inside, finding Quinn's instantly. The jolt that causes her body makes Quinn pull back, panting for a breath. Her eyes are wild as she looks over at the other girl as if she's seeing her for the first time. "What was that?" She asks, trying to gather control over her thoughts. She's only ever felt this overwhelmed right before a panic attack and right now, she's not so sure that isn't what she's having.
"It's called a kiss, Quinnie. I realize that was your first one, but surely you understand how they work," Santana replies sarcastically, rolling her eyes.
Quinn glares at the girl's flippant comment, flipping her hair off of her neck because now she's sweating. "Yes, but why did that happen?"
That seems to bring Santana up short and they share a long gaze before the girl looks away. "Because I wanted it to, and from the way you were just kissing me back, I think you wanted it to happen to..."
This time it's Quinn that's at a loss for words because she hadn't wanted it to happen, but now she's not sure that doesn't mean that she didn't like that it did. It's just all so confusing and she doesn't know what to make of it, but she can feel that overwhelming feeling again and she needs to stop talking about this, stop thinking about it or she really will have a panic attack.
"I don't know...I don't know what to think. I just...I don't know what to do now," she says, trying to keep the tremor from her voice. "I need air. Can you-please open the window."
It's with alarm registering on her face that Santana moves across the room. "Shit Quinn, are you like having an attack?"
Quinn can no longer really answer, just simply nod as she rushes to the window. She takes deep breaths in, letting the cold air shock her system back into something resembling normalcy. It takes a few moments, but she manages to get herself under control. She steps back and lets herself sink to the floor just below.
Santana's right next to her, holding her hand and giving her something to focus on. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have sprung that kiss on you. I just...thought we were sharing a moment." Her words drip with guilt and Quinn feels bad.
"Don't. It's okay. I liked the kiss," she says quickly, happy that there's truth to that because her mind isn't allowing her to overthink.
"I don't know. You also just kind of had a fucking panic attack because of it."
"I was just surprised and...overwhelmed." Hazel eyes open and look over at the girl that is anxiously studying her face. "Next time, just warn me before you do that," she jokes, a slight smile coming to her face as her heart rate slowly returns to normal.
"Next time...yeah, next time I will," Santana says back. She seems to be relaxing as well and offers Quinn a tiny smile.
Despite things returning relatively to normal after that night, Santana doesn't try anything like that again. Quinn isn't sure if she's disappointed or relieved, but she can't stop thinking about the kiss. What did it mean and why did Santana want to kiss her? Does that mean she wanted to kiss Santana too? Try as she might, she can't make heads or tails of it. And the worst thing is, their vacations are both drawing to a close. They still spend all of their time together, but never talk about what happened as if by some unspoken rule and while it's not openly awkward, there's now this stupid tension between them that isn't hostile, but makes Quinn very aware of Santana. She finds herself staring at the girl in odd moments. And yes, she's always known Santana was attractive, anyone with eyes knows that, but now Quinn notices and finds herself thinking it at odd moments. And she isn't quite sure what to do because she's never felt like this before and worst, they'll be returning to school in a few days. She isn't even sure they'll continue to be friends.
Of course she never says anything to Santana about it and if the girl is having similar concerns. She never lets on. She seems content to just return to the way things were. So, Quinn continues to suffer these thoughts alone. She's almost mad at the girl for making her feel this way if she hadn't also began to find herself savoring what little time they had left together, reluctant to let it go. It's like some sort of sweet torture and Quinn isn't sure she wants it to stop no matter how confusing it is.
The night before Quinn's family is due to leave, the girls say their goodbyes. Santana promises that this isn't going to be like last time. She insists they're actually friends now and if Quinn can handle being seen talking to her in the hallways, she would like to make their friendship public knowledge. That had earned her an eye roll, but secretly, Quinn was pleased. It's just that in harsh light of day, as Quinn's family loads their things into their SUV and bid her sister and brother-in-law goodbye, Quinn can't help but worry.
Yes, she and Santana had an amazing time over the past week and a half, but school is a different animal altogether. She isn't naive enough to believe that things can just change overnight, no matter what Santana promises and then where will she be because she fears she's far more attached to the girl after their time together than she's allowing herself to believe. And then there's the kiss, the one she can't stop thinking about. She doesn't know what to do with it all and that scares her. Everything about Santana scares her, but she can't help but want to hold on to it and she's never been particularly good with letting go of her temptations. This could be problematic, but even as she acknowledges that, she knows she's helpless to stop herself. And when her phone buzzes and she looks down to see the text from Santana, her stomach kind of flips as she reads it.
this place already sucks without you. come back.
She quickly types back that she wishes she could and knows she's in for a world of trouble.