Can't Take My Eyes Off You || Quinntana

Twenty One

When Santana woke up, she could only make out three things: a bright light, a ringing in her ear, and a pounding in her head. "Ughhh." She let out a groan and turned over, lifting her arm to shield her eyes.

A gentle hand moved her arm away from her face as soft lips grazed her forehead. "Good morning."

Santana replied with another groan.

"Your head must be pounding right now, baby. Gimme a sec." Santana could hear the soft pattering of Quinn's feet leaving the room, then returning.

Something cold was placed on her forehead. Instantly, her headache lessened.

"I got you a cold wash cloth and a painkiller. I'll help you sit up so you can take the pill."

Santana, stubborn as ever, replied with "I can sit up by myself." She placed her hands down on the bed and pushed herself up, yet another groan escaping her lips. Quinn handed her the pill and a glass of water. She struggled slightly to swallow it, her throat sore from yelling and singing all night.

"You want tea? I can brew you some with honey."

"You know where it is?" Santana grumbled.

"I've stayed at your house a million times, San. I think I can find it."

Something about the way Quinn moved around the Lopez house like it was her own made Santana smile. They'd only been open about their feelings for each other for a few days now, but they could pass as a married couple.

She sat and patiently waited, enjoying the sounds of the tea kettle whistling and Quinn humming a tune to herself. Unlike Quinn, Santana lived in a small, cozy house. She mostly liked it, but noise from the kitchen could be easily heard in her bedroom, which could be annoying at times. Today, however, she was glad to be able to listen.

As she heard Quinn approaching, she sat up straighter, and something on the floor caught her eye. There was a mess of pillows and a blanket.

"Did you sleep on the floor?"

Quinn nodded.

"But we've shared beds our whole lives?"

Quinn blushed and looked down at her feet, an expression Santana was getting to know very well. "Yeah, but that was before we were—" Quinn's voice trailed away.

"Together?"

"Yeah." Quinn looked relieved. "Together. The point is, you were blackout drunk last night, and now that we're—together—I just didn't want to cross any boundaries. I don't know what you're comfortable with."

Noticing that she was still holding a cup of tea, she walked up to the bed and handed it to Santana.

"That's really sweet of you, babe. Thank you. However, you are free to lie in bed with me whenever you want. In fact—" A sly expression crossed her face.

Quinn laughed as she lifted the covers and slid into bed with Santana. "Okay," she said through a smile, "But I can't stay here too long because I have plans for you today, and first, I need to get you feeling better.

"If you want me to feel better," Santana whined, "You'll stay here all day."

"I actually have a better plan."

. . .

"Okay," Quinn announced, "We need to get you into NHSM."

Santana looked over at her, switching her gaze from the TV she'd been watching. It was 1 pm, and after two solid meals and a lot of water, she was feeling more energetic.

"Do we really have to talk about school? We're on break right now."

"I'm going to pretend you didn't say that. If you want to have a portfolio ready by January 1st, we need to start right now. I talked to Ms. Pillsbury about transferring. She says that if you pass all of your finals, you can stop taking classes at Louisville, and your grades should be good enough for NHSM. So, we need to split our time right now between working on songs and studying, and once finals week is over, we can fill out the application and do all of the recordings. I was thinking we could do those during winter break since we'll both be home."

Santana gaped at her for a minute. Quinn was one of the most intelligent people she knew. Not only that, but she was putting so much thought into something just for her. Santana was lucky to have her.

"That sounds great. Where do we start?"

"Well, we need to pick four songs to submit. I was thinking you could play some for me and we could weigh our options?"

"So what you're saying is you want to be serenaded."

"Well when you put it that way—"

"Fine." Santana playfully rolled her eyes. "I'll go get my keyboard."

Quinn took a seat on the coach as Santana disappeared into her room and reappeared with a keyboard. Santana looked down at the keys for a minute, searching for a place to start.

She took a deep breath. "I wrote this one a couple weeks back when I was trying to work out my feelings for you. I'm not always great with words, but I think the song says everything."

Her fingers began to dance around the keys. She didn't need to think about it; they knew what to do. Soon, the lyrics were spilling out of her mouth and she was back in her dorm at Louisville, wondering how to tell Quinn how she felt.

Quinn was completely lost in the sound of Santana's voice. It was like a warm hug from a loving mother or a cold lemonade on a summer day. Simply beautiful.

The lyrics were thoughtfully written, but they weren't easy for Quinn to hear. They were raw and vulnerable, revealing Santana's anger about Quinn ignoring her and her fear that she had ruined their relationship. It pulled on Quinn's heartstrings to think about how badly she'd made her favorite person in the world feel. It was over now, but the song made it feel real again.

As Santana reached the bridge, a realization dawned on Quinn. This was the song she'd secretly read from Santana's journal. It was the song that started everything. Now, it would be the song that got her into music school.

By the end, neither girl had dry tear ducts. Quinn leapt up from her spot on the couch and wrapped Santana in her arms. They held each other for a moment, neither saying anything.

"You're definitely submitting that one," Quinn whispered into Santana's ear.

Santana pulled back and giggled through her tears. "You haven't even heard the other songs."

"If they're as good as that, there's no way in hell you're getting rejected from NHSM."

"Thank you for taking the time to do this for me."

"I wouldn't want to be doing anything else."

A few notes:

I slightly edited the previous chapter after realizing I totally forgot to say the the NDs won at sectionals. No Marley passing out or Warblers steroids plot lines in this story haha.

Also, I realize I am definitely oversimplifying the processes of transferring colleges and applying to music school. As a junior in high school who is planning on studying STEM, I can't say I have too much experience. I've done a bit of research, but for the sake of simplicity, I won't go too deep into the processes.

Anyway, I hope you are all having a great day :)