“Rhetorical question, Lurch. Hold it, people!” The words were barely out of her mouth and someone had already rushed to turn off the music. “Take five or work on your double pirouettes. I don’t care, do something,” she said, narrowing her eyes at Blaine as she zeroed in on him. “What’s your problem today? That wasn’t rhetorical, by the way.”
The second time the pet name was used on him, he let it go. In the grand scheme of things? Being called Lurch because of his hair was the least of his issues. However, passing this class was near the top of them. Along with the rest of the others the normally overachieving, polite student who’d been becoming increasingly distant and not quite overachieving the past few weeks was struggling with. Blaine felt his stomach fill with ice and then plummet to the floor the minute Cassandra called out for everyone to stop. It was cemented under the floorboards when she turned her narrow gaze directly at him. Stuttering to say anything, his eyes were practically screaming an apology to make up for his lack of knowing what to say and not have it sound like some flimsy reason for his routine falling apart.
“I.. There’s nothing I can tell you that isn’t going to sound like I’m only trying to make an excuse for myself. I’ll get it together. Starting now..,” he swallowed the lump in his throat to keep from rambling on further as he felt himself close to doing the opposite.
( mssg » bowties | sent ) Either a crevice in a possibly attractive ( i know your track record has been patchy ) gay wonderboys bedroom, or down the gutter like you seem to be. ( mssg » bowties | sent ) Alright, where are you, blackout?
( mssg » santana | sent ) lIsten, lady! Who are you do jUde my choices? i do happen to Remmber a certain stalker who shoewd up at Your aprtment and kept leaving more and more of her stuff after two dates not every long ago! so gutter me all you want! !! THat only makes you a hyprocrite. ( mssg » santana | sent ) AT the bar in the Vilage where we took RAchel. Thesea re my peopel I belong here but my pants apparently decided to elave. bring me pants. ( mssg » santana | sent ) notyour yoga pants either I know I gave you a key. don’t do that to me.
“Higher! Is it possible your hair gel is actually weighing you down?”
“No. I don’t think that’s possible,” he was pretty sure he managed to sweat it off anyway. Breathing was beyond burning and he wasn’t sure if he could feel his lungs anymore. But if he managed to make it through Sue’s utterly ridiculously insane work out, he could survive a freaking dance class. Maybe. “Even if it was..it’s not an excuse right? I’m sorry, Miss July. I’ll try harder..” All he had to do was get his head back in the game and stop thinking of the world outside this studio.
( mssg » santana | sent ) I know I said that I didn’t think you needed to be here.
( mssg » santana | sent ) I made a mistake. I can’t sleep. I can’t eat. All I do is stare at the monitor trying to pick apart the colors on the screen like I can diagnose if I need to run to find a doctor because something’s wrong. ( mssg » santana | sent ) They said he’s going to be okay but I can’t convince myself he will be. I don’t trust anyone. I keep thinking what if they’re wrong? What if something happens before Burt’s plane lands? ( mssg » santana | sent ) I think I need you to keep my head on straight. Please?.
Santana enjoyed teasing Blaine probably more than anyone else. His rebuttals && offended expressions were pure gold. If reactions were currency, Blaine would be a millionaire. The small jabs at his fashion or perky personality never seemed to bring him down. That was something Santana valued in a person. Thick skin. If you can stand up && take the blows, while still understanding that they mean no harm — you’re officially worthy of the Lopez’s presence. Blaine was one of the few who could prove time && time again, that he was beyond worthy. It wasn’t just the same old game with him. It was pure, almost ecstatic, FUN. “Why? Does it make you uncomfortable? Are you really that unacquainted with your disco stick?” Her lips pulled into a confident grin as she threw the joke in his face. She really was having a good time. A nice comparison to some of the harder days she’d experienced these past few weeks. Santana’s cheerful laugh followed his expression when drinking the straight alcohol. Maybe she was a little tipsy already, but that was just making tonight all the more fun. “Knew you always had the hots for me, Anderson.” she teased with a smirk, slender fingers gripping the bottle to snatch it back. She did always had to have the last word after all.
Laughter, beyond buzzed and maybeDEFINITELY heading towards a little bit drunk, bubbled out of him and blended with Santana’s a heck of a lot better than the taste of liquor from the bottle was blending with his now non-existent tastebuds. Only the weak ones die, right? Hopefully. Of course the chuckles happened after dropping his jaw and steepling his fingers against his chest in a mock expression of utter offense and hurt.
“What if it did? Would you take it back? Probably not. For the record? NO. I’m not offended by it. I’m just more dignified than a man who would use such a term. A gentleman would do no such thing,” he even tried to prove it by huffing indignantly with an upwards lift of his nose. “Or at least we have better phrases for it when we do.” His hand chased after the bottle when she pulled it away. So much for gentlemanly composure when you’re grabby handing at a bottle of vodka. Or was that rum? He forgot. Gasping, Blaine gave her an owlish blink and then bent forward with a shove of his elbow against the back of the couch. “How’d you figure it out? And, let’s be honest and blame it on the alcohol. You’ve always had the hots for me too, Lopez.” A scoff twitched his shoulders up as he waited for the bottle to come his way again and stole the time without it to taunt her just as hard back. “Alas! If my memory serves me right? It can never be. What a cruel life we live..,” his shoulders sagged and he feigned a pout of utter disappointment as he sank back still vodka-less. Double bummer.
Santana huffed at his persistence, but at least she stopped yelling. That probably wasn’t helping her case in the least bit. “Having emotions is so embarrassing.” The complaint was truly how she felt, but she couldn’t help but faintly smile at how ridiculous it sounded. Blaine was always good at bringing out her best side. “I know. You’ve made that painfully clear. I’m just not like you. I don’t get to talk about how I feel all the time. It’s hard for me. Kinda seems like you’ve taken a page from my book though. So we’re both in an emotional rut… Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to be there for each other. It’s just my freaking instinct that makes me push people away, but I can try to open up. If that’s what you wanted…”
Pinching his bottom lip between his teeth–Blaine kept his stare down at his wrists peeking out from his knees where he stowed away his hands between them. Shoulders hitched and he snuck a peek at her, wary and not wanting to put too much on her shoulders when she had enough weight there with her own feelings. Two seconds ago–he was begging her to talk. To lean on him. Not just to support her. But in that support–there was a counter lean where she’d be his, too. But he wanted to be careful. He was always careful with her. Because so few people in her life ever really were. Only when he was sure he wasn’t forcing her to talk to him–a few words that slipped past her lips were confirmation of that in her own unique way of saying she might let herself need him–Blaine freed a hand and offered it to her rather than stand up. It was a please but a means of letting her back out one last time if she deeply wanted to. “We don’t even necessarily have to talk? We could just sit here and that’d be fine with me. Whatever you want just,” he glanced at his hand and back to her. “If that’s okay?”
Joining the others in New York before Thanksgiving had even rolled round had been something of a last minute decision. The costume party and karaoke night they had hosted the other night had been, admittedly, WILD, a word that Quinn would never usually use when it came to describing her old classmates. So much alcohol, her head had been positively BANGING when she woke up the next morning, but she supposed that was a part of the fun. Everybody at Yale had been so serious lately, forgetting the fact that he was the start of the holiday season. Some part of her can’t quite comprehend it, but it probably has something to do with their dreaded mid-terms. It’s been a killer for the past two years or so.
❝ What movies do you have?? ❞ Brow quirks, hazel eyes flickering towards the shelf full of DVDs beside their television set. If he suggests a musical, she might just throw herself off the balcony, but she smiles politely, shuffles a couple of inches closer to him and TUCKS herself beneath her corner of the blanket. ❝ Because if I have to sit through another round of ‘ One Day More ‘ I don’t know how I would be able to survive. ❞
One arm casually wrapped itself in a loose hold around Quinn’s shoulders to let her scoot as comfortably close as she wanted to. Honestly–and it might be silly for him to feel this way–but feeling her inch nearer and be comfortable enough to do that with him made him feel good inside. Quinn was always someone he looked up to. Even admired for the strength she had to get through everything life threw at her and still come out shining. They were friends. Definitely friends. But she was always someone he handled carefully. Respecting her distance was important to him because so often others–good intentions aside–never seemed to realize when not to. Her sometimes quiet and her sometimes not so quiet was okay with him. He UNDERSTOOD more than she might know.
Now that they were under a blanket on the couch and she was close, though? Blaine couldn’t wipe the light smile off his lips. Leaning over–he grabbed the remote from the table and offered it over instead of taking over menu surfing. “How about we play it safer and let you pick? That’s the polite thing to do anyway. I mean–you might get stuck with superheros or something way too black and white and old if I’m in charge? The DVD rack isn’t going to help. Those are mostly Rachel’s and Kurt’s and we both know what that means.”
( mssg » blaine | sent ) See, I was going to let you sleep on the bed and I was going to sleep on the couch, but then you started with the hallmark thing, and well, we know how that went. ( mssg » blaine | sent ) Think of it as the dog house. Exclusively for you. ( mssg » blaine | sent ) Oh look you got it! ( mssg » blaine | sent ) We’ll see in the morning, but I think the magic 8 ball only has the one answer right now.
( mssg » kurt | sent ) how Aboutwe just sleep together? i won’t try anyhting. I do want to live through the nightt. ( mssg » kurt | sent ) OOKAy. Il’l sleep on the couch. ( mssg » kurt | sent ) throwing awat the faulty stupid magic 8 vball tomorrow. it sucks.
“It doesn’t matter, butter scalp! I’m fine on my own!” As hard as she tried, there was a real emotion that slipped through her facade. A stray tear that she’d deny no matter what Blaine saw. “Why are you still here, I said I want to be alone! — Wait, are you okay?”
“Obviously. You’re perfectly fine, Santana. You exude fine. How could I have thought otherwise,” Blaine asks with a voice that he wished could be more calming when she needed it so badly. Regardless of what she said–Blaine knew Santana wasn’t fine. But he was lacking the energy to hide the fact that maybe–he wasn’t either. Quite honestly? He was just tired. “Yeah. I’m okay. Sorry. I didn’t mean that to come out snippy. I’m–I only want to make sure you know I’m here if you need me.” And maybe if she needed him? Then it wasn’t outright saying he needed her, too.
“Why would I do that? You are beautiful, Rachel. You’re like one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever seen,” Blaine gave her calf a squeeze and nudged it with his wrist after trying to rustle her around and get a smile. “And you’re talented and sweet and utterly amazing. See? You should never doubt yourself. I mean there’s always another movie to watch but I’m honestly trying to make you see you how I see you. Then you’d realize just how fantastic you are.”
pianokeysandbowties back up 