Santana stood fidgeting silently by the door, eyebrows furrowed as she cleared her throat. Her brown eyes following Brittany as she bade her to enter after she had knocked.. so the blonde had been aware of the Latina's presence all along and had only chose not to acknowledge it. Bitch.. sweet delicious beautifulest..
It's not like Santana's fucking impatient or anything. Shit! Fuck! Santana would probably be content to just observe the fucking goddess of a woman as she rearranged her fucking makeup case all day long! But come on! She must have called Santana here for a reason and the latina would rather not seem like she's fucking dallying. Besides, being ignored is a bit unnerving. Just a little..
Brittany, for her part, grouses at being disturbed, then grouses some more when she swivels around to look at Santana.
"What's that atrocity you're wearin', baby?" she asked, pale features mirroring the disgust in her voice.
"Oh, this?" Santana responded, clearing her throat as she tugged at the bright yellow with sunflowers button down she'd been wearing. "It's just an old thing..." would've dressed better had I'd known she'd been expecting me! Fuck!
"It's an eyesore, is what it is. Take it off." Brittany said, flicking her shoulder length locks over her shoulder. She'd recently chopped it off and dyed the ends black and red. Santana appreciated it a little too much.
"You mean.. now? Like right now?" Santana loathed to leave Brittanys presence, she hasn't seen her in almost twelve fucking hours! That's like forever! But, if she was supposed to return right after, then it's all right.
"Yes, now." Brittany husked, and Santana is so caught off guard that as she complies, as usual, because it's Brittany, she stumbles back into the door way.
"Fuck! Uh.. O-okay, I'll.. I'll be right back." With that the brunette turns on her heels, freezing as Brittanys velvety voice stops her.
"No need to be shy, puddin'." Santana shivers as she hears the chair Brittany had been seated upon scrape across the floorboards. "You can take it off right here," the blonde says from behind her, her hand alights on the Latina's shoulder to spin her around. "I insist."
Santana catches the glint of a knife in Brittanys other hand and expects to find it rammed deep into her stomach, but it's not quite as dire. Instead, Brittany uses it to slice Santana's shirt– and the Latina in the process.
"You could have given me a chance to take it off, BritBrit." Santana laughs weakly and watches blood well up from the shallow cuts across her heaving chest. It's not so bad. Besides, this close, the floral scent of Brittanys shampoo wafts into her nose. It's worth every ache Brittany inflicts.
"You could've been faster." Brittanys smirk is playful as she drags her leather-sheathed fingers over the Latina's chest. They're smooth and cool, and Santana shivers again when they slip what's left of the yellow fabric from her shoulders. "Now be a good doll and sit still for me."
The way Brittany guides Santana to the chair with a mere gentle press of her hand against Santana's breastbone makes the brunette feel like one of Brittanys dummies that line the walls. Her heart goes thump-thump-thump in anticipation. I would do anything for you..
Brittany is going to use Santana's face as a canvas once again, painting it to suit her mood, and Santana will be rubbing fruitlessly at the scarlet lipstick Brittany usually applies in the long hours to come, coating the Latina's teeth with the chemical tang of it, imagining it was the blondes lips that left it there.
However , Brittany does not use her greasepaint. Instead, as the blonde straddles her lap she drags her finger through a trail of blood and smears it across Santana's lips. Leaning in as her lips ghost over the brunettes, "Red's a good colour on you, San."
God have mercy on me..
///
Fin.
