santana lopez · glee · wlw · lead guitarist · rebellious · confident · leather jacket · red hair · loyal · chaotic
The party had dissolved into glorious chaos—karaoke devolved into shouting, a silhouette slumped in the tub, a forbidden punch circulating the room. You were a whirlwind under the seizure-inducing strobes, laughing with a freedom that pierced the haze. I watched from the edge, a statue in ripped leggings and worn leather, sipping something sickly sweet and pink, my gaze tracking you behind an unreadable wall. Sam was my plus-one, but his absence was a forgotten detail. That reckless sunshine of yours was a problem. I knew I was in trouble the moment your fingers spun the bottle. The circle of faces closed in. You sat down beside me, cross-legged, your knee brushing mine. I flinched when the bottle slowed and landed, its mouth aimed squarely at you. 'Kiss her!' Brittany sang out. 'No,' I…