Glee Oneshots

oh, i cut me open (but you did all the pouring out)

The air conditioning is broken.
It buzzes weakly, only a tiny amount of cool air being blown into the claustrophobic waiting room. The open window does nothing to get rid of the almost sticky heat that is stagnant in the air around Santana.

She's sweating, and she's so glad she remembered to put on deodorant. She's dressed in summer clothes- one of her dads t'shirts, several sizes too big and in a nice shade of blue that reminds her of her girlfriend's eyes, and a pair of soft basketball shorts that reach her knees, and are wide-legged with blue stripes down the sides.

Her hair is tied into two Dutch braids- her Mami did them for her. Santana's figured it's almost like a meditation exercise, doing her daughters hair every morning, in the same neat hairstyle she wore to grade school.

Maribel Lopez does it to feel closer to her daughter. Each time she tugs on the strands, it's her way of saying 'I'm here, Santana'.

Anyways.
The air conditioning is broken.

Santana has been coming to this therapist for a couple of months. And, to be honest, she thinks it's working. Sure, she still can't look at herself in the mirror, and every meal is a struggle. But she's actually eating. That's far better than she was doing a few months ago.

Her therapist is cool. She's not all wishy-washy like some of the therapists she went to at first- weird ladies who kept trying to hug her, and didn't understand her at all. Their offices were cluttered and stuffy, and the walls felt like they were closing in on Santana.

But Dr Williams is different. She's probably in her thirties, Santana figures, but she looks younger. And her office is clean and minimal: white walls and plain yet comfortable furniture. Also, she's very straight to the point. She doesn't waste her time dancing around a subject, she just asks the questions outright. It means that Santana gives her straight answers.

Her appointment was at a different time today. And her Mami wasn't able to pick her up straight away, since she was working a shift. And her Papi is out of town on a business trip, so he definitely can't collect her. It's too warm for her to walk home, so she was instructed to wait in the office for a while, until her Mami could take a break and come pick her up.

Santana is sitting, flicking through one of the trashy magazines, when the door to the waiting room is pushed open and none other than Quinn Fabray walks in.

It takes a while for her to notice Santana, who's sprawled across one of the sofas, her Croc-clad feet resting on the arm rest. But when she sees her former best friend, her eyes widen slightly, and her already pale face goes even paler.

Santana waves to her, and beckons her over. Quinn tentatively walks over, and sits on the chair that's just beside Santana's sofa.

"Q, hey. How are you?"
"Good. How are you."

Santana looks at Quinn. There's something slightly off about the other girl. Not that she doesn't look good, she just looks... different.

Her usually straight hair has gone curly from the humidity, and a pair of sunglasses are marooned in the mass of blonde curls. She's wearing a black tank top and a long skirt, in white. Over this is a purplish shawl-cardigan situation. It's unusual, especially for Quinn, but it works.

"Aren't you, like, way too warm." Santana blurts out, before her stupid brain manages to put two and two together- Quinn being in a therapists office, and Quinn wanting to cover her arms. She could kick herself, but by that time the words are already out, floating around the stifling room.

"Uhm, not really." Quinn mumbles.
"Sorry for asking. It's too hot. My brain isn't really functioning anymore."
"S'fine."

They sit in silence for a while, the only noise the pathetic whining of the air conditioning.