11 months ago on 7 July 2011 @ 8:24am + 35 notes
via tansanalopez (originally puckpuckpuck)

@Puck.

tansanalopez:

Santana twisted her lips, setting them into a hardened straight line, the warm brown colour of her eyes quivering slightly as they tried to break away from his beseeching stare. God the look that was slowly forming there with every layer of new realization, fresh disgust and shock. Maybe it had been a bad idea after all. What the hell did Brittany know anyway … feelings, she scoffed. And yet she couldn’t tear herself away from that damn look in his eyes, those eyes that seemed to defy any certain colour, a mix of liquid smoke and crushed mahoganies that begged for some other kind of answer, any kind but the truth. 

“Whatever. It didn’t work, anyway … skin’s way too tough,” she joked rather weakly, the choking in her throat saying otherwise as she shifted on his lap; uncomfortable there for the first time since she could remember. Santana wasn’t sure what to do with herself for once, not only never having divulged this information to anyone but had never felt so uncomfortable with her own body before. She’d always kept up such a strong, valiant effort in believing her own hype and the sorry nothings boys whispered in her ear when they wanted something from her that she’d never paused to have any insecurities or body problems. But now she felt naked and in more ways than just being without clothes could define. No on knew. Not even Brittany. Especially not Brittany. 

Puck’s jaw tightened at her choice of words, especially since he found this anything but funny. He stopped feeling around there once realization set in, and it wasn’t some type of freak cut. It was done on purpose, and it made him feel sick to his stomach. Sick because she shouldn’t have done something like that to herself, she was way too valuable to hurt herself in any way. Sick, because he should have known. All this time they were hooking up, he always caressed her there. He never felt anything out of the normal, because he was too busy thinking about sex than her well being. Sick because she felt that bad about herself and never told anybody. He wanted to throw up at the new discovery. He was deeply disgusted, with himself. Not her.

“Why? How long? Why didn’t you tell me anything, Santana? What made you do this?” he asked quickly. He shifted her back slightly and he leaned back, tilting his head to the side. There, clear as crystal on her thigh, were scars and cuts. Cuts that looked no older than a month old, and again, his stomach twisted. His fingertips ran over the edge of the freshest one, wondering why somebody who always seemed happy would do this to themselves. He never noticed or second questioned anything. “Shit, I’m so sorry.” he whimpered, trying not to touch them too much in case they hurt.

Source:puckpuckpuck