" women have been damned
to be one of two things; she's either
the damsel in distress
or the wicked witch.
take a guess which one I've become. "
{Quinn Fabray x Fem!OC}
{season 2 - TBD}
{slow burn/enemies to lovers}
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Change had been labeled a scary thing, and if that's the truth—history repeating itself had to be a horrifying concept.
History had found itself wrapped in a perfectly crisp white envelope. Its alarming nature was coated in beautiful cursive words that screamed out its unread apologies and unanswered questions.
Deja vu was hidden in the familiar cruelty of someone she loved.
Was this karma for everything she had ever done? Was history repeating itself? And if it was—why was it now happening to someone who didn't deserve the history she once lived through?
The heavy questions sat upon her fragile heart, letting it feel restrained in her chest, not allowing her to breathe. The constant pondering and laps of reality setting in caused an immense migraine to grow, the tips of her fingers rubbing at her temples.
"Hey, I got your text."
Finn Hudson was many things, and oblivious was one of them. The boy didn't feel the weight of the text to meet his best friend in an empty classroom, but God, Faye could feel every ounce of it. She watched as the boy grazed across the room to sit on top of the table in front of her, calm and clueless as ever.
"I was actually coming to find you anyway. I just got out of the principal's office with Santana," Finn laughed at the coincidence, continuing to go into detail about what had happened with the Lopez girl and their principal.
Could this be the same boy that she, on multiple occasions, poured her heart out to? The same boy that held her as she cried about her past mistakes and the villains that invaded her memories. It couldn't be. How had he become so—cruel? She didn't even know what word to describe him as.
His shift in attitude had been a whiplash. He was so gentle with her, so understanding. Why couldn't he extend that to Santana?
Unknowingly, the redhead's eyes began to fill with tears of dread, and Finn was the one to point it out. Jumping down from the table he sat at, the Hudson boy quickly placed a comforting hand on his friend's shoulder, "Faye? Hey, what's going on? Are you okay?"
Shaking her head and pushing his hand away, Faye sniffed softly, wanting nothing more than to not cry, "Do you—even understand what you did?"
He didn't get it. His face showed that he didn't get it, and the way he shook his head—so oblivious to the damage he caused. It pissed her off. The conflict of her own life mixed with the unbothered behavior of one of her closest friends—the reaction was explosive.
