ididntmeanyou asked: "I like dancing with Santana the best" Objection- Shakira
"I don't want to be the exception
To get a bit of your attention"
—-
Sixteen minutes. That's all you've got left. If today's gonna be the day, you need to grow your lady balls. And you need to do it quick.
"Do you see how they're related?"
She's worrying her bottom lip while staring down at the small print spread out before you. You bite your lip and wait for her response, hoping to clear at least some of the confusion on her face. Literature isn't for everyone, and it's definitely never been Brittany's forte.
Might be a problem moving forward being a sociology major and all.
You've considered telling her that now that you're kinda...friends. Maybe. You haven't asked for clarification and honestly, you probably won't. What you have with her is more than you've ever dreamed anyway.
Yet still, you can't help that gripping background feeling that comes and goes. You've watched the way she dances and how easily she takes over the stage.
It's just as effortless for her to light up a room.
Like right now, brows wrinkled and features fallen, she's the closest thing to perfect you've ever seen.
"Kinda, I guess." Her voice is pretty indicative, sarcasm and all.
"Want me to explain it again?"
"Not really. I just don't see how a poodle can be a demon."
"It's a disguise. He's trying to take his soul."
"By offering a contract? Why not just take it. Isn't that what bad guys do? "
"Yeah, but is he really a bad guy? Or is he just offering a bad decision?"
Her fingers move to her forehead and she stares at the book. She looks frustrated. Confused, too but mostly frustrated.
"I guess both."
"In this instance, the author wants you to consider it more of a personal option."
She exhales. "Either this book is stupid or I'm stupid."
You chuckle lowly and smile in the briefest manner, a soft way to display your adoration without attaching anything to it.
Friends smile.
Right?
"Britt, you're not stupid. You're doing good, I promise. This book is hard and it's meant to make you think. You just gotta get to know it better, is all."
A loud sigh comes out in response, and she slams her book shut in defeat. "I honestly don't know how I'm supposed to write a paper about a bad guy stealing souls that's not really a bad guy. Ugh. I just…"
You pause. You lift the edge of your glasses up the bridge of your nose and wait patiently for her train of thought, taking the time to admire the faint freckles scattered across her skin. You love how blonde her hair looks today. Like sunshine and daisies. She's so pretty.
6 minutes.
"You're just…?"
"I'm just over it," she responds dejectedly. "I'm over today."
You can't help but feel a disappointed blow to your fragile heart.
"Well, can try it a different way," you offer, your palms sweating, heart beating erratically as she begins packing her things. "We got a couple more minutes until 7. Maybe I just need to be more creative or something."
"San, that's really sweet but honestly I can't today. This morning was the worst. Quinn's got mad at me and I lost my training iPod after practice. But I kinda think Lord Tubbington's stole it. I found a One Direction song on there the other day."
You laugh and cringe at the same time, because she's so fucking cute and One Direction is so fucking bad.
"Poor Tubbs."
"I know. I might do an intervention."
"Oh, definitely. I feel sorry for him already."
For the first time all morning, she finally smiles. And it's for you. Not Quinn. Not anyone else. Just you.
"I'm gonna go. Thanks again, San. You're super helpful, like always. "
60 seconds.
You know what's coming. She's does it everytime.
You hold your breath and count the seconds as she leans close, her fingers wrapped around your wrist, the smell of her hair making way to your senses. And when the faint brush of her lips finally reaches skin cheek, something aches. It might just be your cheek, but it still makes your chest throb and knees weak just the same.
10 seconds.
"I'll see you next Tuesday. Should I bring anything?"
You want to tell her. You have so much to say, yet your tongue feels heavy. Everything is dry.
"…San?"
You lick your lips and meet her eyes. Hopefully she doesn't notice your hands shaking.
"Oh, um, no. Just, uh…bring your book and notes, like usual."
"Okay." She smiles, grabbing the door handle and turning. "Bye, San."
You feel a draft from the hallway enter your dorm before the door closes.
0.