It took another hour before Brittany tired of the teasing. Santana continued to squirm in her seat, avoiding looking at Brittany as best as she could, but Brittany wasn’t immune to her own teasing either. Her skin burned to be touched, and she continued to swim, hoping the cold water would dampen her own arousal. Images of them together kept
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Santana as a badass lifeguard is totally canon in my mind. The lifeguard who I partly based Santana on in this story was kind of a bitch as well, but probably just because I got the whistle instead of all the hunky dudes she had been hoping for (little 13-year-old me... I should have known back then, haha).
I gotta admit, after writing this, Santana saving Brittany from 'drowning' felt like a way to deal with the opposite happening in Color. That story has had some impact. :P
Ice cream. Sounds like a lot of fun. Great minds do think alike. ;)
I'm really glad you liked it! I'll be out of writing for a while because I'm pulling 18 hour days (full-time study, semi-full-time job, extra part-time job, and theater rehearsals, to give you a brief look into my life, haha), but I'm missing it so intensely, that as soon as I get a moment, I want to be at it again!
Thanks for the review again! I love long ones like this, especially from writers I know! :)
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