second best - part two
Title: Second Best
Author:
kalexico
Pairing, Character(s): Quinn Fabray, Santana Lopez, Brittany Pierce
Rating: PG 13 (for language. What can I say? It’s Santana’s POV.)
Word Count: 2869
Summary: Filled for this prompt at the
glee_angst_meme : Brittany isn’t a natural blonde, she dyed her hair so Santana would look at her the way she’s always looked at Quinn.
_______________
part one
Quinn Fabray has been the center of your world for as long as you can remember.
Ever since you were just little girls, she has been the very essence of everything you think, say and do. You remember her when she was young, clear as day. You remember seeing her for the first time in the park, on her father's hand. You remember forgetting all about the game of soccer you were playing with your brother and cousins as she walked by. You remember being completely unhinged by that girl passing by. You remember your brother and cousins teasing you. You remember trying to keep your clothes clean in case she notices you - you don't want to give a bad first impression. One of your father's many words of wisdom is that the first impression is the most important one and can never be undone. At that age, you still take your father very seriously. You don't see him for the corporate prick he is yet.
You remember the first time Quinn Fabray looked at you, with those piercing hazel eyes. You remember being thrown off balance by the incredible sadness in her eyes, and you remember thinking that it was so wrong that a girl this beautiful should ever be this sad. You remember that first weak smile she cast in your direction. You remember how your heart fluttered and your stomach dropped. You also remember stumbling and falling over your own feet the first time she let go of her father's hand, walked over to you and greeted you shyly. You remember her giggle and the burning of your cheeks, your momentary intense death wish.
You remember hearing her voice for the first time.
"Hi, I'm Quinn Fabray."
Soft, smooth.
Music.
You remember being so utterly enchanted by her very presence that your brain couldn't form a coherent sentence. You remember being so embarrassed because Tiago, your brother, put his hand on your shoulder, crooked a lazy but charming smile and said: "This is Santana Lopez."
You remember how you cleared your throat, stuttered, looked at your feet, back at her, into her eyes. And just when you were about to say that that barrette was really nice, her father called her back. She waved at you and then she ran to him, and you were left speechless.
Your brother and cousins never let you hear the end of it.
Eleven years later, Quinn Fabray still looks just as pretty with a barrette in her hair. But then she always looks pretty. No, actually, she looks the epitome of beautiful every second of every day.
One would think that after eleven years, one would get used to her smile, her voice, her laugh - but you don't. Every time you get to witness any of these wonders, it still feels like a small miracle that this girl is in your life.
You are absolutely convinced that she is nothing short of perfect.
Your eyes follow her everywhere. You watch her every move. You know it's creepy, but you can't help it. You can't not look at her whenever she's around. Her eyes, her face, her smile, her nose, her lips, her chest, her stomach, her arms, her ass, her legs, even her feet - you cannot get over how gorgeous and sexy she is.
Oh, the things you would do to her if you could only touch her. If only you could touch her just once...
You long for her so intensely it hurts. It keeps you awake at night.
A part of you knows it's not healthy, but you can't stop yourself. You are positive that you would gladly die if you thought it would make her happy. You'd give your life for her in a heartbeat, without second thought.
It absolutely kills you inside when she has a boyfriend. You feel your blood boiling, your head pounding, your veins nearly popping when she walks around with a new one on her arm. You want to punch them where it hurts the most, you want to kick the everliving shit out of them for touching her that way. They don't deserve her. They don't know her the way you do. They see a pretty face and think that's all there is to her.
You try to make the hurt go away by kissing Brittany, by having sex with Brittany.
It's impossible.
You remember hearing that Quinn was pregnant. You remember how it felt like all air was just sucked from your lungs. It was as if your insides were collapsing, you couldn't breathe or think or eat or sleep or function. You were empty. Hollow inside. You went through the motions, desperately trying to make everything unreal. Nothing got through to you. It was as if you were living in a bubble, all sight and sound retorted. You remember going to your bedroom, closing the door and not leaving it for a week. You remember how your room was nearly covered in tissues.
You remember seeing Puck for the first time after you heard the news. You remember that feeling - almost as if someone had opened a cage inside you, letting all your rage out. Nobody had to tell you it was him, that vile piece of horseshit. You remember screaming at him, tears in your eyes from anger and pain. You remember feeling like you could just motherfucking kill that bastard for touching Quinn with his filthy, unworthy hands. You remember feeling like you could barf at the thought of what he had done, the selfish arrogant asshole. You remember punching him, kicking him until your hands were bleeding, still not finding yourself able to stop. You'd lost all control.
You remember the soft touch of her hand on your arm, just as you were about to kick his jaw. You turned around. She looked at you, right into your eyes. She calmly told you to stop and it was all you could do not to fall on your knees and cry at her feet. You were so close then, so close to telling her that you love her, that you always have.
You didn't, not then.
Instead, you went to Brittany and you pretended she was Quinn once again. Moaned Quinn's name once again. Felt incredibly guilty towards Brittany once again, but you honestly can't help it.
Quinn is so lovely. She's talented, awesome, smart, strong, loyal to a tee, witty, soft, sweet, intense. She warms your heart with one look, as much as it disgusts you to admit.
You can never stay angry with her for too long. She has hurt you in the past, but it's what happens if you really care about someone, right? You hurt them sometimes. And she just has to look at you and tell you she's sorry and you can't bring yourself to stay mad at her.
Because you love her and you forgive her.
You believe in her.
You live and breathe for her. So much that sometimes it scares you. Sometimes you think that maybe you should try to let her go. Sometimes, at night, you think you've accepted the fact that she will never want you. And you think you're okay with that, if you can be her friend.
But then the next morning you see her and she gives you that small smile and it's all gone. You're back to wanting desperately to tuck that loose strand of hair behind her ear and kiss her. Show her how much she is loved. You're back to mentally crawling at her fucking feet.
You have written anonymous letters to her in the past. Confessions of your love shoved in her locker, in a handwriting that is not yours. Then you chickened out and retracted it (you know her locker combination from staring at her so often, but you've never used this knowledge for anything else), fearing she might think a guy is after her. You can't stand the thought that she would attribute your genuine feelings to an unworthy creature.
You often feel like a pathetic mess, the way everything in your life, in your world revolves around her. The way that little wave of hers has you so intensely focused on her. The way it makes you want to pin her against those lockers and fuck her brains out, and how it clashes so irrevocably with the desire to make soft, slow and sweet love to her.
Brittany tells you that she heard Coach Sylvester tell Quinn that she needs to step up her game if she doesn't want to lose her spot as Captain to Santana. You want to rip Coach Sylvester apart.
Quinn's currently dating Liam and you hate him with a blind passion. You refuse to listen to the rational part of you that tells you he's a decent guy and that you should be glad that Quinn's dating him and not some retarded asshole.
Of course he's decent. Quinn's moved passed retarded assholes now. My girl is smart enough.
It doesn't stop you from wanting to kill him, painfully and slowly, for holding her hand and putting a smile on her face (even if the smile doesn't quite seem to reach her eyes). That is your goddamn job.
One night, you're sitting on your window sill, your legs dangling outside. You're looking out at the sky and wondering what the point of your entire fucking life is if you can't be with her. If you can only adore her from afar, if you can only touch her face in your dreams.
You look down, at the ground several feet below you and for a brief moment, you wonder if it would be deep enough. If you would fall hard enough, or how you would have to twist your neck for ultimate success.
You're surprised when your door opens and she's standing there. She has a key to your house and it's not uncommon for her to visit, but it's late and you know how much she values her sleep. She insists it's good for her skin, or something like that. You silently insist she needs nothing because it's quite impossible for her to become more beautiful than she already is.
You smile at her, but she looks nervous. She walks over to you, stops, wrings her hands.
"Quinn, what's wrong?" you ask her quietly, a bit concerned.
"Santana..." her voice is hoarse.
You jump up. "Is something up? Did someone hurt you? Who did it? I swear I'll find the motherfucker and-"
And then she kisses you.
It's out of this world.
You nearly lose your balance. Her soft, moist lips move against yours and you have to stop yourself from sobbing. You want to grab her, kiss her passionately, wrap your arms around her and disappear inside of her and you still wouldn't be close enough and it kills you but you're kissing her and your mind is running around going all kinds of places and you think you can't think but you do and it's just insane the way her hand cups your cheek and she opens her lips and your tongues are touching and you feel like you're going to explode and you're on a high and the tears are rolling down your cheeks when your tongue explores the roof of her mouth for the first time and you swear to God you're dead and you've gone to heaven because this, right here, is everything and her lips are so -
And then it stops.
Air.
Right, you need that too.
She rests her front against yours and smiles. Her thumb wipes your tears away, but they're instantly replaced by fresh ones.
"I love you," you whisper.
You can't help it.
She doesn't say anything, but that's okay.
She kissed you.
Your head is still spinning when she tells you that she has to leave.
You're still rooted on the spot ten minutes later.
You're so excited. You cannot wait to tell Brittany - she's going to be so happy for you. She has known about your intense love for Quinn for as long as the two of you have known each other - you're not a fool, you know she can see it and the sex is pretty telling. She'll be so relieved to see that finally, after eleven years, you got what you wanted - Quinn Fabray. You remember telling her all about your awesome and super pretty friend Quinn five minutes after you met her.
The next morning, an unfamiliar blonde is waiting at your locker.
You scowl, feeling the power surge through your body. You can handle the motherfucking world after last night. (Only a part of you is afraid that Quinn will panic and deny the kiss ever even happened.) It's only when you reach your locker that you recognize your friend.
"Britt! What did you do?"
She smiles and it kind of lights up the room. You can honestly say that some day, someone will love her very much. "I decided I wanted a change. Do you like it?"
"I... wow, it's... different," you stutter, still surprised. You smile as a thought hits you. "Yeah, it's nice. I guess yesterday changed a lot for the both of us, then."
"What do you mean?" she asks, clearly confused. A hint of dread shows on her face, but you're too psyched to pay closer attention.
"Quinn kissed me last night," you grin excitedly.
Brittany smiles, but something seems off about it. You don't know what it is, but you're sure it's nothing. It's Brittany. Brittany is always happy for you.
Later that day, Quinn quells your fear by pulling you with her behind the bleachers and making out with you. You have never felt this happy in your life.
"Do you love me, Santana?" she asks. Her voice sounds so insecure and you cannot fathom that she even questions that.
"Of course I do. With everything that I am."
"Then you understand that I have to keep seeing Liam, right? People have to think we're a couple and that we love each other. We live in Lima, Ohio. People are bigoted and stupid. I don't want anyone to hate me, or you for who we love and it's none of their business either way. People don't understand that what we have is way more special than the bland lives they lead with their bland husbands and wives, their bland children and their bland dogs and their bland houses and their bland jobs. I'll have to keep seeing Liam, but please know that I love you, Tana. Always remember that I love you."
For a moment, your world fucking implodes.
But she looks into your eyes and you can see the fear, so you swallow and nod. Then your brain catches up and her words fully hit her. She loves me. You can scream it from the rooftops - she loves me!
"I understand, baby."
She smiles. "Baby," she repeats, almost as if she's testing the taste and sound of it. "I like that."
She tells you that you need to set up some rules to protect (basically, to hide) your relationship. That you both know that if Quinn's parents find out, you're both done for. That you'll never see her again.
You agree with her.
You hold hands on the way to school, in the car. You steal kisses behind the bleachers, in the bathroom (very quickly), in empty classrooms, or in the choir room when the others have left.
The first time the two of you make love is just... epic. Your hands never want to stop touching her, your lips never want to stop brushing her skin. Your hands find their way all over her. You make sure to be gentle, sweet.
It's all about her. You want her to feel good. You want to crawl into her and hug her core and love her so much that she physically feels it. The moment when you feel her crashing down from her first orgasm and she screams your name is magical. Just magical.
The tears are streaming down your face and you're kissing her all over and you can't stop. She's intoxicating, addictive, mind-blowing. She's your favorite drug.
When you've finally exhausted yourself, you cuddle into her, curl up against her. She holds you so tightly and you've never felt so safe and secure in your life.
Later, you teach her how to return the favor.
She becomes a pro.
In the beginning of your relationship, there seems to be a sadness in her eyes, but it's nothing you're not used to. It's the Quinn you know. When you see her changing, when you see her becoming happier - you're sure you'll never feel such accomplisment in your life ever again.
You never notice the way Brittany looks at you. You only ever notice Quinn (but you don't notice that strange look of something that almost resembles guilt in her eyes when she looks at you - maybe you don't want to notice.)
You, Santana Lopez, have achieved your heart's desire at sixteen.
You've made Quinn Fabray happy and that's all you've ever wanted. That's all you'll ever need.
>> next
Author:
kalexico
Pairing, Character(s): Quinn Fabray, Santana Lopez, Brittany Pierce
Rating: PG 13 (for language. What can I say? It’s Santana’s POV.)
Word Count: 2869
Summary: Filled for this prompt at the
glee_angst_meme : Brittany isn’t a natural blonde, she dyed her hair so Santana would look at her the way she’s always looked at Quinn.
_______________
part one
Quinn Fabray has been the center of your world for as long as you can remember.
Ever since you were just little girls, she has been the very essence of everything you think, say and do. You remember her when she was young, clear as day. You remember seeing her for the first time in the park, on her father's hand. You remember forgetting all about the game of soccer you were playing with your brother and cousins as she walked by. You remember being completely unhinged by that girl passing by. You remember your brother and cousins teasing you. You remember trying to keep your clothes clean in case she notices you - you don't want to give a bad first impression. One of your father's many words of wisdom is that the first impression is the most important one and can never be undone. At that age, you still take your father very seriously. You don't see him for the corporate prick he is yet.
You remember the first time Quinn Fabray looked at you, with those piercing hazel eyes. You remember being thrown off balance by the incredible sadness in her eyes, and you remember thinking that it was so wrong that a girl this beautiful should ever be this sad. You remember that first weak smile she cast in your direction. You remember how your heart fluttered and your stomach dropped. You also remember stumbling and falling over your own feet the first time she let go of her father's hand, walked over to you and greeted you shyly. You remember her giggle and the burning of your cheeks, your momentary intense death wish.
You remember hearing her voice for the first time.
"Hi, I'm Quinn Fabray."
Soft, smooth.
Music.
You remember being so utterly enchanted by her very presence that your brain couldn't form a coherent sentence. You remember being so embarrassed because Tiago, your brother, put his hand on your shoulder, crooked a lazy but charming smile and said: "This is Santana Lopez."
You remember how you cleared your throat, stuttered, looked at your feet, back at her, into her eyes. And just when you were about to say that that barrette was really nice, her father called her back. She waved at you and then she ran to him, and you were left speechless.
Your brother and cousins never let you hear the end of it.
Eleven years later, Quinn Fabray still looks just as pretty with a barrette in her hair. But then she always looks pretty. No, actually, she looks the epitome of beautiful every second of every day.
One would think that after eleven years, one would get used to her smile, her voice, her laugh - but you don't. Every time you get to witness any of these wonders, it still feels like a small miracle that this girl is in your life.
You are absolutely convinced that she is nothing short of perfect.
Your eyes follow her everywhere. You watch her every move. You know it's creepy, but you can't help it. You can't not look at her whenever she's around. Her eyes, her face, her smile, her nose, her lips, her chest, her stomach, her arms, her ass, her legs, even her feet - you cannot get over how gorgeous and sexy she is.
Oh, the things you would do to her if you could only touch her. If only you could touch her just once...
You long for her so intensely it hurts. It keeps you awake at night.
A part of you knows it's not healthy, but you can't stop yourself. You are positive that you would gladly die if you thought it would make her happy. You'd give your life for her in a heartbeat, without second thought.
It absolutely kills you inside when she has a boyfriend. You feel your blood boiling, your head pounding, your veins nearly popping when she walks around with a new one on her arm. You want to punch them where it hurts the most, you want to kick the everliving shit out of them for touching her that way. They don't deserve her. They don't know her the way you do. They see a pretty face and think that's all there is to her.
You try to make the hurt go away by kissing Brittany, by having sex with Brittany.
It's impossible.
You remember hearing that Quinn was pregnant. You remember how it felt like all air was just sucked from your lungs. It was as if your insides were collapsing, you couldn't breathe or think or eat or sleep or function. You were empty. Hollow inside. You went through the motions, desperately trying to make everything unreal. Nothing got through to you. It was as if you were living in a bubble, all sight and sound retorted. You remember going to your bedroom, closing the door and not leaving it for a week. You remember how your room was nearly covered in tissues.
You remember seeing Puck for the first time after you heard the news. You remember that feeling - almost as if someone had opened a cage inside you, letting all your rage out. Nobody had to tell you it was him, that vile piece of horseshit. You remember screaming at him, tears in your eyes from anger and pain. You remember feeling like you could just motherfucking kill that bastard for touching Quinn with his filthy, unworthy hands. You remember feeling like you could barf at the thought of what he had done, the selfish arrogant asshole. You remember punching him, kicking him until your hands were bleeding, still not finding yourself able to stop. You'd lost all control.
You remember the soft touch of her hand on your arm, just as you were about to kick his jaw. You turned around. She looked at you, right into your eyes. She calmly told you to stop and it was all you could do not to fall on your knees and cry at her feet. You were so close then, so close to telling her that you love her, that you always have.
You didn't, not then.
Instead, you went to Brittany and you pretended she was Quinn once again. Moaned Quinn's name once again. Felt incredibly guilty towards Brittany once again, but you honestly can't help it.
Quinn is so lovely. She's talented, awesome, smart, strong, loyal to a tee, witty, soft, sweet, intense. She warms your heart with one look, as much as it disgusts you to admit.
You can never stay angry with her for too long. She has hurt you in the past, but it's what happens if you really care about someone, right? You hurt them sometimes. And she just has to look at you and tell you she's sorry and you can't bring yourself to stay mad at her.
Because you love her and you forgive her.
You believe in her.
You live and breathe for her. So much that sometimes it scares you. Sometimes you think that maybe you should try to let her go. Sometimes, at night, you think you've accepted the fact that she will never want you. And you think you're okay with that, if you can be her friend.
But then the next morning you see her and she gives you that small smile and it's all gone. You're back to wanting desperately to tuck that loose strand of hair behind her ear and kiss her. Show her how much she is loved. You're back to mentally crawling at her fucking feet.
You have written anonymous letters to her in the past. Confessions of your love shoved in her locker, in a handwriting that is not yours. Then you chickened out and retracted it (you know her locker combination from staring at her so often, but you've never used this knowledge for anything else), fearing she might think a guy is after her. You can't stand the thought that she would attribute your genuine feelings to an unworthy creature.
You often feel like a pathetic mess, the way everything in your life, in your world revolves around her. The way that little wave of hers has you so intensely focused on her. The way it makes you want to pin her against those lockers and fuck her brains out, and how it clashes so irrevocably with the desire to make soft, slow and sweet love to her.
Brittany tells you that she heard Coach Sylvester tell Quinn that she needs to step up her game if she doesn't want to lose her spot as Captain to Santana. You want to rip Coach Sylvester apart.
Quinn's currently dating Liam and you hate him with a blind passion. You refuse to listen to the rational part of you that tells you he's a decent guy and that you should be glad that Quinn's dating him and not some retarded asshole.
Of course he's decent. Quinn's moved passed retarded assholes now. My girl is smart enough.
It doesn't stop you from wanting to kill him, painfully and slowly, for holding her hand and putting a smile on her face (even if the smile doesn't quite seem to reach her eyes). That is your goddamn job.
One night, you're sitting on your window sill, your legs dangling outside. You're looking out at the sky and wondering what the point of your entire fucking life is if you can't be with her. If you can only adore her from afar, if you can only touch her face in your dreams.
You look down, at the ground several feet below you and for a brief moment, you wonder if it would be deep enough. If you would fall hard enough, or how you would have to twist your neck for ultimate success.
You're surprised when your door opens and she's standing there. She has a key to your house and it's not uncommon for her to visit, but it's late and you know how much she values her sleep. She insists it's good for her skin, or something like that. You silently insist she needs nothing because it's quite impossible for her to become more beautiful than she already is.
You smile at her, but she looks nervous. She walks over to you, stops, wrings her hands.
"Quinn, what's wrong?" you ask her quietly, a bit concerned.
"Santana..." her voice is hoarse.
You jump up. "Is something up? Did someone hurt you? Who did it? I swear I'll find the motherfucker and-"
And then she kisses you.
It's out of this world.
You nearly lose your balance. Her soft, moist lips move against yours and you have to stop yourself from sobbing. You want to grab her, kiss her passionately, wrap your arms around her and disappear inside of her and you still wouldn't be close enough and it kills you but you're kissing her and your mind is running around going all kinds of places and you think you can't think but you do and it's just insane the way her hand cups your cheek and she opens her lips and your tongues are touching and you feel like you're going to explode and you're on a high and the tears are rolling down your cheeks when your tongue explores the roof of her mouth for the first time and you swear to God you're dead and you've gone to heaven because this, right here, is everything and her lips are so -
And then it stops.
Air.
Right, you need that too.
She rests her front against yours and smiles. Her thumb wipes your tears away, but they're instantly replaced by fresh ones.
"I love you," you whisper.
You can't help it.
She doesn't say anything, but that's okay.
She kissed you.
Your head is still spinning when she tells you that she has to leave.
You're still rooted on the spot ten minutes later.
You're so excited. You cannot wait to tell Brittany - she's going to be so happy for you. She has known about your intense love for Quinn for as long as the two of you have known each other - you're not a fool, you know she can see it and the sex is pretty telling. She'll be so relieved to see that finally, after eleven years, you got what you wanted - Quinn Fabray. You remember telling her all about your awesome and super pretty friend Quinn five minutes after you met her.
The next morning, an unfamiliar blonde is waiting at your locker.
You scowl, feeling the power surge through your body. You can handle the motherfucking world after last night. (Only a part of you is afraid that Quinn will panic and deny the kiss ever even happened.) It's only when you reach your locker that you recognize your friend.
"Britt! What did you do?"
She smiles and it kind of lights up the room. You can honestly say that some day, someone will love her very much. "I decided I wanted a change. Do you like it?"
"I... wow, it's... different," you stutter, still surprised. You smile as a thought hits you. "Yeah, it's nice. I guess yesterday changed a lot for the both of us, then."
"What do you mean?" she asks, clearly confused. A hint of dread shows on her face, but you're too psyched to pay closer attention.
"Quinn kissed me last night," you grin excitedly.
Brittany smiles, but something seems off about it. You don't know what it is, but you're sure it's nothing. It's Brittany. Brittany is always happy for you.
Later that day, Quinn quells your fear by pulling you with her behind the bleachers and making out with you. You have never felt this happy in your life.
"Do you love me, Santana?" she asks. Her voice sounds so insecure and you cannot fathom that she even questions that.
"Of course I do. With everything that I am."
"Then you understand that I have to keep seeing Liam, right? People have to think we're a couple and that we love each other. We live in Lima, Ohio. People are bigoted and stupid. I don't want anyone to hate me, or you for who we love and it's none of their business either way. People don't understand that what we have is way more special than the bland lives they lead with their bland husbands and wives, their bland children and their bland dogs and their bland houses and their bland jobs. I'll have to keep seeing Liam, but please know that I love you, Tana. Always remember that I love you."
For a moment, your world fucking implodes.
But she looks into your eyes and you can see the fear, so you swallow and nod. Then your brain catches up and her words fully hit her. She loves me. You can scream it from the rooftops - she loves me!
"I understand, baby."
She smiles. "Baby," she repeats, almost as if she's testing the taste and sound of it. "I like that."
She tells you that you need to set up some rules to protect (basically, to hide) your relationship. That you both know that if Quinn's parents find out, you're both done for. That you'll never see her again.
You agree with her.
You hold hands on the way to school, in the car. You steal kisses behind the bleachers, in the bathroom (very quickly), in empty classrooms, or in the choir room when the others have left.
The first time the two of you make love is just... epic. Your hands never want to stop touching her, your lips never want to stop brushing her skin. Your hands find their way all over her. You make sure to be gentle, sweet.
It's all about her. You want her to feel good. You want to crawl into her and hug her core and love her so much that she physically feels it. The moment when you feel her crashing down from her first orgasm and she screams your name is magical. Just magical.
The tears are streaming down your face and you're kissing her all over and you can't stop. She's intoxicating, addictive, mind-blowing. She's your favorite drug.
When you've finally exhausted yourself, you cuddle into her, curl up against her. She holds you so tightly and you've never felt so safe and secure in your life.
Later, you teach her how to return the favor.
She becomes a pro.
In the beginning of your relationship, there seems to be a sadness in her eyes, but it's nothing you're not used to. It's the Quinn you know. When you see her changing, when you see her becoming happier - you're sure you'll never feel such accomplisment in your life ever again.
You never notice the way Brittany looks at you. You only ever notice Quinn (but you don't notice that strange look of something that almost resembles guilt in her eyes when she looks at you - maybe you don't want to notice.)
You, Santana Lopez, have achieved your heart's desire at sixteen.
You've made Quinn Fabray happy and that's all you've ever wanted. That's all you'll ever need.
>> next