Awards from creepy old guys who get crazy sweaty heart palpitations when they see dudes with weird faces feeling up Natalie Portman. [ Like mind reading, but, well, they were both catty enough and comfortable enough with that cattiness to coincide on a lot of topics. That had never changed, and that had been something that had drawn their friendship together in the first place. Quinn Fabray had been one of the only people who would never stand for Santana Lopez's bullshit. ]
It might not have been total shit. [ She can't help thinking of the girls on screen, and her eyes drift to their legs, so close together. Quinn's warm and inviting. She's always had that strangely ethereal presence, a maturity and solidity that Santana's been jealous of for as long as she can remember. ] It's softcore porn wrapped up in an Oscar package. Brokeback 2.0 or whatever.
[ Her arms are folded. But she can't bear to move her leg yet, even if her eyes finally move away from where their bodies connect. There's something big in the room that she can't quite wrap words around or figure out. ] You shouldn't have shown this to me.
[ Oh, there it is. In a slightly smaller voice than her usual bravado, the way her muscles had tightened with every bit of sexual tension in that movie, this ugly mixture of discomfort and sensuality that she couldn't quite untangle yet. And then she adds, more boredly and much more Santana-like. ] We should've just done 10 Things again and got all weepy about Heath or whatever people do on movie nights.
glksdjlds i'm just so curious
It might not have been total shit. [ She can't help thinking of the girls on screen, and her eyes drift to their legs, so close together. Quinn's warm and inviting. She's always had that strangely ethereal presence, a maturity and solidity that Santana's been jealous of for as long as she can remember. ] It's softcore porn wrapped up in an Oscar package. Brokeback 2.0 or whatever.
[ Her arms are folded. But she can't bear to move her leg yet, even if her eyes finally move away from where their bodies connect. There's something big in the room that she can't quite wrap words around or figure out. ] You shouldn't have shown this to me.
[ Oh, there it is. In a slightly smaller voice than her usual bravado, the way her muscles had tightened with every bit of sexual tension in that movie, this ugly mixture of discomfort and sensuality that she couldn't quite untangle yet. And then she adds, more boredly and much more Santana-like. ] We should've just done 10 Things again and got all weepy about Heath or whatever people do on movie nights.