a.n: this fic was LONG overdue an update in my opinion- especially seeing how i left the last chapter.
hope you enjoy!! x
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I curled over my house's toilet, throwing up into it. The strong scent of last night's drink punched me in the face.
"Woah, what happened?" Puck asked, standing at the doorway of the bathroom.
"Kimmy's party- that's what," I groaned.
"You went?"
"No, I'm hungover from a party I didn't go to."
"Har-har. Was it good?"
My lips curled up at the replay of yesterday in my mind.
"It was alright,"
***
When I pulled back from the kiss, Santana had a nearly unreadable expression- it was almost like one big flurry of reactions.
Her finger touched her lips. She still looked straight at me and her eyebrows went from being furrowed to gradually relaxing.
"You didn't... hold on, did you just..."
My gut immediately dropped.
"I'm sorry, I-I thought..."
I expected to get berated. But I didn't. She seemed just as confused as me.
"Santana, you just looked really pretty... you know I didn't mean any-"
Santana didn't say a word to me. But her actions spoke for themselves. She screwed up her face- almost like she was going to cry- and looked around to see if anyone was watching. Then, her back turned to me and she left the room- she left me alone whilst everyone else was dancing. She didn't even make it through the whole song.
I didn't have any motive to stay any longer. What was I going to do, approach another girl after that trainwreck? I drunkenly trudged home, finding myself lying on my bed in the morning. Still in my party clothes, and the smell of Santana still stuck to me.
***
The weekend was spent sulking. I spent Sunday Morning crying, for obvious reasons. No matter how many distractions I attempted, how many times I tried sleeping it off, the song, the moment, always relayed.
It was in my dreams. I pulled away from her lips and suddenly cameras appeared all around me. Everybody saw and laughed at her- they called her slurs. The fireworks turned into bombs and it was all my fault.
I felt physically sick when Monday came. We had biology together, too. Nevermind Glee. I looked for her in the hallways, in class in case I never noticed her there before, but nothing. She was keeping her distance very well.
"Have you seen Santana anywhere?" I asked Kurt quietly, slowly taking books out of my locker.
"No, sorry. What's with the sunglasses? Making a fashion statement?"
"No. Hungover."
"Let me guess... Kimmy?"
I had actually been drinking more after it happened in hopes of drowning my sorrows. I nodded anyway.
"Well they look very nice on you. Why do you want Santana anyway?"
"Something happened at the party, I need to talk to her about it."
"Really? What was it?"
"None of your business, Kurt." I huffed before pausing. "Sorry, I'm just super pissed. See you later,"
YOU ARE READING
showstopper (santana x reader)
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