Maybe Santana should have stayed. This is very awkward now. When she was still here, I just had to behave, I had no other choice. It was simple. Nothing could happen. Now, I'm not so sure. All I can focus on is my shallow breathing, her own breathing. I feel oppressed. Just go to sleep Fabray, just stop thinking…

"Quinn ?" she whispers behind me. ( Read more... )

A/N : Okay so, this is the next part. I had opted for a One-shot at first because I'm kinda bad with multi-chaptered fics, but then some of you asked for more, and then I had some ideas again. So that's it ! The second (and I think LAST part of this story).

This chapter takes place in New-York, just before Nationals. It's a long chapter (not too ( Read more... )

God. I’m SO drunk.

As I look at my reflection in the mirror through heavy eye-lids in one of Rachel’s bathroom, I can’t help feeling a little self-conscious. Tousled hair, smoky eyes, flushed cheeks… well, when I say it like that, it kinda sounds sexy, but trust me, it’s not. I just look so fucking wasted…

It’s actually a good party. I was sceptical ( Read more... )