Never again (Quinntana)

Chapter 37 - Games

Years later, Santana still felt bitter about that encounter. But nobody knew about it. Especially not Quinn.

Santana focused on the present again.

The blonde was opening the door, pushing it open for her guest. "Come on", she invited her in, "I'll give you some clothes and show you to the bathroom."

Santana nodded, a ball forming in her throat. It seemed ironic that after all these years of friendship with Lucy, the only time she was allowed inside her house would be as a complete stranger.

Tears welled up in her eyes.

No. Not again-

Santana never cried for this type of thing.

In her usual state, Santana would have scoffed at herself, rolled her eyes for good measure, and carried on with her life. But here, with her armour stretched thin and all her walls down, it seemed all self-control had evaded her.

Get a hold- she thought. A single tear rolled down her cheek, and she fell back behind Quinn, hoping the blonde wouldn't notice the damned water threatening to spill from her eyes.

Unfortunately Quinn turned, checking to see if Santana was following. Her eyes flickered to Santana's face. Her brow furrowed, and suddenly Santana felt Quinn's hand brush against hers.

She took it reflexively.

Quinn's eyes were on Santana again, her fingers squeezing her hand ever so slightly, gently, as if to say I'm here. I'm here, San. You can count on me.

Without thinking Santana squeezed back, entwining her fingers with Quinn's. The shadow of a smile passed on Quinn's face. 

"My room is upstairs", Quinn said, and Santana nodded.

Quinn paused in front of the staircase. Santana noticed it was barely wide enough for one person. Quinn gulped, then squeezed Santana's hand one last time before letting it go.

"Go on", she rasped. "My room is straight ahead".

Santana nodded again, and climbed up. Her body was aching for more physical contact, but she forced herself to trudge on. Quinn is just playing with you. She's done it before. With you. With Finn. She's playing. Don't give in.

She pushed Quinn's door open, looking around as she entered.

The room's beige walls were blank, except for a picture of Virgin Mary and a cross. Several flyers about faith and christianity were scattered on Quinn's desk, but it didn't look like she had any intention of hanging them up. The room looked impersonal, empty, save for the huge dressing that covered most of the space.

The green-eyed girl opened the door of her closet, and picked a T-shirt and sweat pants, handing them to Santana.

"I have few clothes that aren't dresses or skirts, and I'm guessing you want something comfortable right now."

Santana nodded greatfully. "Thanks," she smiled.

"I'll show you to the shower," Quinn continued. She opened her door and exited her room, Santana trailing behind her.

The raven-haired girl caught up as Quinn opened the door of a spacious bathroom.

"There", she said. "You can shower here. The towels are clean, and the shower gel's in the shower."

She waited for Santana to get inside, but Santana didn't budge. "Go ahead first", she said. "It's your shower, and it's my fault you're dirty."

"What?" Quinn frowned. "No." She shook her head, almost annoyed. "You need it more than me, San. Besides, we can shower together."

Santana's eyes widened, and her lips parted in shock.

"I mean- Oh- no-" Quinn had seemed to notice the innuendo, but only looked mildly embarrassed. "There is another shower downstairs. That's what I meant." She offered Santana an apologetic smile.

Santana mustered a fake smile in return. Toying. She's toying with me.

"I'll go now", Quinn said, yet she stayed where she was, gazing at the girl in front of her.

She took in Santana's defiant, proud gaze, her wonderfully defined cheekbones, her plump, red lips. More importantly, she took in the way Santana held herself. Like a queen, Quinn thought. Despite everything she's been through.

"Take care of yourself, Santana", she thought tenderly. 

Santana's gaze snapped to her.

Her eyes were full of longing and wariness, of pain and anger, of gratefulness and bitterness.

"Shit-" Quinn swore. "Did I say that out loud?"

Santana stared on, nodding slightly, her face unreadable, her burning gaze piercing a hole into Quinn's soul.

A lump formed in Quinn's throat.

How can a girl so beautiful look so hurt? she wondered. And then: You. You're part of the reason she's hurt. 

"I'm sorry", Quinn whispered, and her voice broke on the y.

Santana's eyes softened ever so slightly; she took a step towards Quinn. Then another one.

Then, before Quinn could react, she'd been pulled in a tight embrace.

Hot air tickled her ear, sending shivers down her spine. "Thank you." Santana breathed.

Quinn hugged back, pulling Santana closer. Santana complied, pressing her body against Quinn's. Seemlessly, she planted a light kiss on Quinn's cheek, unknowingly sending a jolt of electricity up Quinn's spine.

The kiss felt like an electroshock. What seconds earlier had been a very platonic hug, no more than a comforting embrace, had now turned into something that sent Quinn's body into overdrive. Every nerve in contact with Santana was tingling, sending crazed signals to Quinn's overwhelmed brain.

Suddenly she felt a terrible urge to pull Santana closer, to feel her lips on her skin again, to feel the caress of her soft skin-

Soon Quinn would give in to this urge, and it couldn't happen, she knew, it couldn't happen, and Santana was too close, she needed to get away-

Panic seized Quinn and she forced herself to peel Santana away from her, as gently as she could, each passing second with their bodies in contact a tantalizing temptation.

"We should probably shower", Quinn laughed akwardly, once at a safe distance.

She saw hurt flash across Santana's features, quickly masked by indifference.

"Right." Santana threw Quinn a look she couldn't read, then closed the bathroom door behind her.

A.N.

Hello, beautiful people. I hope you are all faring well, happy and healthy. Just wanted to remind you that my DMs are always open if you feel the need, or simply the will, to talk to somebody who might understand what you're going through, as a member of the LGBTQ+ community, but also just as an individual. Loss, sense of exclusion, despair, inadequacy. All of those I've felt and still feel sometimes. 

Fortunately there are also happier moments in my life where I've felt loved, accepted, cherished and wanted. 

All this rant to say that I'm always up for a chat ;)

I hope you enjoy this chapter,

Love,

Alya

P.S. This chapter is dedicated to @winkkkkk ! Thank you for reading, and voting, I really appreciate it 🤍

Again, my heartfelt thanks to every one of you for reading, and my eternal gratitude to those of you who vote and comment every week - I love you.