Note: This second chapter was writing a long time after the first.
My writing style has therefore probably changed – hopefully improved.
Santana played with the hem of her Cheerio skirt, somehow having ended up seeking the comforting quietness of an empty choir room after school when even Berry wasn't around anymore to drive her crazy.
It had been a tough day and all she wanted was some peace and quiet yet that seemed too much to ask as the door opened and someone entered.
The intrusion was both welcome and most unwelcome yet Santana clamped her jaws tight when Quinn walked over to her and sat down.
The silence that followed made Santana's skin itch so she forced herself to speak, leaving a bitter aftertaste: "If it isn't Lucy Caboosy, to what do I owe this pleasure?"
Quinn did not regard her, simply answered: "I saw you sitting alone."
"And you thought you'd come in and annoy me?" Santana hoped that Quinn wouldn't listen, that she would see through this terrible façade.
Once again Quinn did not look at her, instead her gaze fell to the picture that she held in her hand.
With a single glance Santana determined that it was indeed the picture she had given to Finn but why the hell did Quinn have it: "What're you doing walking around with that? Isn't seeing it on all the wall enough?" she asked in faux amusement.
"Finn had it in his wallet," Quinn gave as explanation, her thumb gently sliding over the paper, in we perhaps, Santana couldn't see her face: "He said this girl was beautiful."
"On the inside maybe," Santana scoffed, digging her nails into the palms of her hands.
"Perhaps," there was no bite to Quinn's tone and it unnerved Santana greatly: "He said he had been carrying it around since we first started dating yet when I asked for it, he seemed more than eager to part with it."
Santana snatched the paper from Quinn's hands, gave it a quick, superficial look before tossing it back at the blonde: "Can't say that I blame him," I'm going to kick his ass," I be glad to part with it as well," he's a dead man.
Quinn let out a breathy laugh but refrained from commenting any further so after another awkward silence, Santana got up, feeling annoyed, dusting off her skirt: "Yeah, I'm gonne go, see you later, Caboosy," again bitterness coated her mouth at uttering the insult but she pressed on.
Only Quinn did not release her grip that easily and the most devastatingly crushing words left her pretty little mouth: "Santana, I know."
She should have kept walking, she knew, but the mere shock from those words alone stopped her dead in her tracks, her body tensing as she tried to keep her voice neutral: "Know what?"
There was a soft chuckle and then padding on the floor as Quinn neared, stepping around Santana so they were facing each other though Santana kept her eyes fixated on the door: "I know, Santana," the whispered again, grabbing on of Santana's hands.
Santana's eyes fell to the said limb as she felt something pushing into it, opening it up and revealing the picture of Lucy, her picture that she had kept so many years, hidden from the universe.
She swallowed difficultly around the lump in her throat and forced herself to look up and meet Quinn's eyes, the denial waiting on the edge of her tongue to come forth and defile the world with its presence yet she choked on the words when she saw those hazel eyes smiling, filled up with more happiness than she had ever witnessed; they were even more beautiful than in the picture.
Then Quinn's lips quirked up in the slightest manner as he hands softly but surely wrapped around the back of Santana's neck, setting the skin on fire, the warmth spreading to the outer most parts of her entire being, seemingly making every fiber thrum with anticipation.
Santana swore it was the best feeling she ever experienced until Quinn bent forward and brushed her lips chastely against Santana's, a brush of a feather that made a roaring heat stream through their bodies.
Santana's hands found their way to Quinn's waist, gripping the fabric of her clothes tightly and pulling the blonde flush against her own body.
The surprised gasp that Quinn let out was enough to drive Santana wild with desire and after angling herself she kissed the blonde with a renewed vigor that was happily reciprocated.
A seducing stroke of Quinn's tongue and Santana's mouth opened gladly to receive, their tongues moving with such passion and trying to convey so much that Santana felt ready to burst when they finally did break apart.
They shared the same breath from but a moment, Quinn's hands falling from Santana's neck to her shoulders as if she was trying to steady herself, her voice was hoarse with the remnants of lust: "Thank you, Santana.., " she swallowed, her hands cradling Santana's face while whispering: "Thank you."