Author's Note: Renee writes Quinntana for Janet because I said I would give her feeilngs. First time writing them...so yeah. This is pointless and a little choppy but...meh, I just kinda wrote it on the fly. You know I'm an angst whore...


"How does it look?" I asked nervously as I twisted left and right in front of the mirror trying to take in every possible angle.

I heard the hushed voices floating in from the bedroom and sighed.

Of course they were so wrapped up in each other that they couldn't spare a moment for their friend who just chopped off all her hair at their encouragement.

I'd said a million times that I'd never cut my hair and I really don't remember how I'd agreed to this. One second I was crying my eyes out, encircled in the warmth of Brittany and Santana's arms, and the next I was sitting in the salon chair watching lock after lock of my hair flutter to the ground around me.

Brittany had had the wherewithal to shoot me a hopeful smile every now and then as the hairstylist got scissor happy all over my head, but Santana had been so absorbed in Brittany that she'd barely looked at me since the first fateful snip.

The whole cab ride she would shoot fleeting glances to my side of the car, but whenever I'd look back, she'd flicker her eyes away.

I was experimentally pinning up one side of my hair, trying to figure out what styles worked with this length, when I heard a voice from the doorway.

"No, leave it down," Santana implored and I looked into deep brown briefly before lowering the clip back to the sink.

"Oh, so you can talk, huh? Never would've guessed," I teased, reaching for the brush again just to have something to do with my hands.

I could feel her staring at me and I wasn't quite sure why, but it was unsettling.

After a moment, she pushed herself off the door and made her way over to stand behind me and just a little to my left, resting her left hand on the counter in front of me.

She met my eyes in the mirror and tried to muster a genuine smile. I studied her reflection; the perfectly sculpted brows, the slightly flushed cheeks which gave me an idea of why it'd been so quiet in the room before I called out, and the way she was biting her lip.

Her eyes were what kept my attention, though. They were beautiful, but they were so troubled. They told stories of hurt and betrayal and heartbreak and suddenly, it all made sense.

When she'd yelled at me earlier, I'd assumed she was just being her normal, bitchy self, but now I could see there was more to it.

She understood me. She felt my pain and she didn't want me to feel the same things she was feeling.

I'd always known about her and Brittany, recent weeks only confirmed my suspicions. What surprised me most, was the way things between them have been playing out.

After Landslide, I'd assumed they would eventually get themselves together, but all I've seen is the way Santana's eyes were losing their light with every passing day.

When I'd passed the picture area at prom and seen Brittany draped across Artie's lap and Santana hanging around Karofsky's neck across the room, glaring at them, I'd realized that maybe love isn't enough all the time.

"Where's Britt?" I asked and if I hadn't known her for so long I wouldn't have been able to see the way her face dropped just that little bit and how her fingers gripped the sink just a little harder.

Santana flipped her hair over one shoulder, probably aiming for uninterested indifference as she answered, "Oh, she just went to see if Artie wanted to get some lunch..."

"Are they-"

"As friends," she hissed quickly and I clicked my tongue in understanding and the silence washed over us again.

How close she was standing to me didn't go unnoticed. I could feel her uneven breaths tickling my neck and when I shivered, she moved in closer, pushing her breasts lightly into my back.

I inhaled sharply as she rested her chin on my shoulder and wrapped her arms comfortably around my waist.

"I don't think I told you...but I like your hair," she whispered, fingers tracing shapeless patterns across my stomach.

It was the most intimate touch I'd experienced in...well a while and I had to admit, it felt nice. Finn had done his best, but his hands were always too big, too clumsy and too inexperienced.

I'd had the same problems with Sam and Puck, but it hadn't occurred to me that my body craved a gentler, softer touch; the kind that was delivered by gentler, softer hands. The kind of hands that were currently moving unabashedly across my abs.

If she noticed my internal struggle, she ignored it in favor of pulling me closer; I never did understand her logic.

I closed my eyes and took a few deep breaths before I found her eyes in the mirror again.

"What are you-why are you doing this, Santana?"

To say what she did next had surprised me would've been an understatement. She flipped me around in her arms until our bodies were pressed against each other, face to face.

She paused then, searching my eyes for any type of resistance and finding only mild shock and increasing curiosity.

Santana threaded her fingers through my hair and then she kissed me so softly that the feeling was akin to nothing I'd ever experienced.

Her lips were soft and tentative as she applied a little more pressure on her next kiss. I pushed back just as hesitantly and after a minute of cautious exploration, she pulled away.

I fluttered my eyes open slowly, shocked at the tenderness I found her her gaze.

"What was that for," I whispered and she simply shrugged.

"You said you wanted someone to love you..." she smiled and rubbed her thumb across my cheek with a gentleness that I hadn't seen her demonstrate towards anyone but...

"Brittany," I breathed and her smile faltered a little, but she didn't move away so I continued.

"You have Brittany, don't you? I mean, you love her right? And she loves you. I don't understa-"

"You're right about that," she interrupted sadly, dropping her gaze to the floor.

It was the only time I'd ever seen her act shy and it scared me that I found it so endearing. Because we'd done it already, It was easy to lean forward and peck her lips again lightly.

"I still don't get it. What are we doing?" I could see her struggling to find the words and I brought my hands up to rest on her hips, squeezing encouragingly. "It's okay, you can tell me."

Santana nodded and finally said, "Britt loves me forever. I need someone to love me right now."

It was so simple and yet so complicated at the same time. She tugged her plump bottom lip between her teeth as she looked up at me pleadingly I found myself wanting to taste her lips; to feel their soft caresses on my skin and that's when I knew she had me.

And as I dove back into her, lips open and welcoming to her needy kisses, I told myself that it was okay for us to love each other, even just for a little while.

Her hands moved expertly over my curves and her lips left wet trails along my neck and down to my breasts. It had taken mere minutes after I'd given into her for her to rid us both of the majority of our clothing.

Standing before her, stripped down to nothing but my pale pink thong, I'd never felt so exposed to anyone. Santana's eyes ran greedily across my legs and up to the curve of my breasts, drinking in the sight of me and making me shiver when she met my gaze and stepped into me.

When her mouth closed over my nipple, licking and sucking, I couldn't stop the loud moan the echoed off the pristine white tiles surrounding us.

She turned me around and walked me back until I was pressed snugly between her body and the frosted door separating us from the bedroom. Her lips found my own again and her kisses had grown sloppy as her arousal and need grew. Santana's tongue licked eagerly around my own, fluttering against the roof of my mouth and curling behind my teeth as she worked her fingers between us.

I panted heavily as she tugged down my underwear, trailing her fingers up the inside of my thighs until she stroked through the damp heat pooling between my legs.

"Not that into this my ass, Fabray," she hissed into the sweaty skin of my neck, sucking harshly as I writhed against her teasing touch.

"Santana, just..." I started, tangling my fingers in her hair and forcing her upwards so I could taste her lips again. I wanted to drown in the sensations; to completely lose myself in this moment.

When she pulled away, she rested her forehead against mine, stilling all other movement as she gazed into my eyes. Santana brought her hand up to brush aside my bangs which had began sticking to my forehead and I gasped at the affection that overwhelmed me as a small smile crept onto her face.

I felt something there in that moment. I'm not sure what it was, but it comforted me. I cupped her cheek in my hand and she leaned into my touch, shutting her eyes and breathing deeply.

Her thighs were rubbing slickly against mine and her nipples tickled my own with every inhale as we stood together and simply breathed.

I'm not sure how long we stayed there like that, naked and sweaty leaning against the bathroom door, but eventually she opened her eyes and I could see a fire in them that told me her lust had been renewed.

"Please," I whispered, and I don't know if she was as anxious as I was or if she just saw the pleading desperation in my hooded stare, but something clicked inside her and instantly her lips moved into action.

She kissed her way across my collarbone, nipping lightly as she made her descent. Down my stomach and across my hips, she worked slowly, leaving wet kisses on every inch of my skin her mouth could access. She looked into my eyes as she pressed reverent kisses against my stretch marks and the action was soberingly intimate.

My hand cradled against her hair, her lips pressed to my hips, I'd never thought this could be something that I wanted. But as Santana finally found her way between my thighs, filling me with 2 fingers as her tongue caressed that spot, I couldn't think of any reason why I ever wanted her to stop.

Later that evening as I curled up alone in that little armchair, I glanced over towards the couch. Santana was curled in on herself and Brittany's lithe outline encased her slender frame from behind, watching her sleep.

As I watched Brittany lace their fingers together and nuzzle her face into Santana's hair, I had to remind myself that whatever claim I had over the sleeping girl ended the moment she'd pecked my lips sweetly and slipped out of the bathroom, leaving me naked on the floor and wondering why getting loved had left me feeling so much more alone.


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