10 months ago on 10 July 2011 @ 10:24am + 35 notes
via tansanalopez (originally puckpuckpuck)
# ooc: sorry it took so long! <3

Skin Deep

tansanalopez:

“Yeah and looks where that’s gotten me,” she fired back, quickly moving to chuck his abandoned clothes that littered her floor at him. Being there for people and showing them she cared had landed her in this position where the most important people in her life cared, but not as much as the next person placed above her. “Fucking fantastic,” Santana continued on angrily with a massive eye roll. “A cut above call girl but just below friends with benefits. Fucking bueno,” she scoffed. Then again … hadn’t Quinn bragged to her once that Puckerman had told her she wasn’t just another hook-up. Santana knew she remembered the rage of jealousy and confusion since she’d been the one to get tangled up in his sheets not two nights before the infamous BabyGate Immaculate Conception. 

She screwed her face up in anger again, burning away the tears that threatened and pressed against the backs of her eyes with more furiously spoken words. “You and fucking Britt both. Sure you pick me in the dark for an excellent romp in the sack, because let’s face it I’m the hottest fucking piece in this town, but at school? Out there? You picks Wheels and Sixteen And-No-Longer-Pregnant over me.” 

Santana heaved a breath finally, her face still flushed from the angry rant and realizing at last she hadn’t taken a breath in awhile. “It’s not fucking fair,” she whispered finally, bowing her head to look at her arms that had crossed defensively over her shaking torso. Taking in a shaky breath, biting down on her bottom lip that was quivering threateningly. She hadn’t realized she’d started crying until a warm drop fell and trickled onto her arm. Ugh. Now she was fucking screwed. She’d shown weakness, shown vulnerable feelings. At least anger or bitchiness were viable masks for anything real but sadness … sadness and crying was fucking pathetic and there was no way to hide behind a tear. Refusing to look at him now she swayed on the spot with her head down, tightening the hold she had around herself as if squeezing herself together and retracting inwards would hide the wet sheen that dampened her cheeks. 

Puck was stunned to silence, choosing to keep his mouth shut for the duration of her rant to stay safe. Word after word that poured out of her mouth felt like pouring lemon juice over an open wound. Painful. Stingy. Gut wrenching. But, he deserved to have somebody tell him off for once. It would do nothing but harm if he stopped her or tried to comfort her again, so he pulled his jeans back on that were thrown in his direction. He couldn’t peel his gaze away from her form standing in the middle of the room, shoulders slightly hunched now, holding her arms around herself protectively and staring at the ground. A soft sigh escaped his mouth before he opened it.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know. I mean, you had Sam, you had Karofsky. I just thought you were okay.” he mumbled out, knowing it would be use to make up excuses. He never suspected anything was wrong. Not when he was pining after Quinn, after Lauren, even after Mercedes. He should have dug deeper after the whole The Boy Is Mine performance. She didn’t want to be put second, and that was something he had done three times so far. He stuck to their sex isn’t dating rule like it was a religion. But Puck knew that wasn’t a good excuse. He should’ve asked if everything was okay once in a while, he should have paid more attention to her once they started hooking up, but of course, he didn’t think twice. His eyes were always on someone else.

“Again, I’m sorry. I don’t know what else to say.” Puck said to the floor in front of him. He could no longer look at her without feeling guilt wash over his system, the anger and sadness radiating off her was partly his fault. If not, all of it. His wife-beater was pulled over his head in a quick attempt to have something to distract himself with. He was nervous. He never got nervous. Not even that time he swallowed a thumb tack on a dare. His eyes darted back up to find Santana again, before asking, “Do you just want me to leave?”

Source:puckpuckpuck