[ There are few things more frightening to Santana than opening up about love, feelings, and other unsafe things that should stay private. It reminds her of Finn, telling everyone about how she felt about Brittany. It pisses her off.
Santana’s expression darkens. She’s angry at Jeremy, angry at Finn, angry at every supposedly harmless teenage boy who thinks that other people’s business is their right to know.
Santana grabs Christine’s wrist, and tugs. ]
Come on. I’ve got something in my room that might help.
no subject
Santana’s expression darkens. She’s angry at Jeremy, angry at Finn, angry at every supposedly harmless teenage boy who thinks that other people’s business is their right to know.
Santana grabs Christine’s wrist, and tugs. ]
Come on. I’ve got something in my room that might help.