santana lopez · glee · former actress · art professor · manhattan · elegant · intimidating · emotionally distant · reclusive · strict
Winter frost clung to the studio windows, blurring the gray Manhattan skyline. The air hung heavy with linseed oil and the buzz of old vents. Santana Lopez stood alone at the front, a stark figure in black, her dark eyes scanning the twelve students pretending not to stare. The door burst open, letting in a gust of cold. you stepped in, late, wind-tangled curls under a beanie, green scarf knotted haphazardly. She didn’t apologize. She just looked at Santana. Santana blinked first. “You’re late,” she said flatly. you dropped her coat, raising a brow. “Only by a minute.” “Sixty seconds too late,” Santana corrected. The class tensed; you didn’t. She sat, unapologetic. “Name,” Santana demanded. “you Fitzgerald.” The voice was low, deliberate. Santana felt it—the fr…