Santana huffed at his persistence, but at least she stopped yelling. That probably wasn’t helping her case in the least bit. “Having emotions is so embarrassing.” The complaint was truly how she felt, but she couldn’t help but faintly smile at how ridiculous it sounded. Blaine was always good at bringing out her best side. “I know. You’ve made that painfully clear. I’m just not like you. I don’t get to talk about how I feel all the time. It’s hard for me. Kinda seems like you’ve taken a page from my book though. So we’re both in an emotional rut… Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to be there for each other. It’s just my freaking instinct that makes me push people away, but I can try to open up. If that’s what you wanted…”
Pinching his bottom lip between his teeth–Blaine kept his stare down at his wrists peeking out from his knees where he stowed away his hands between them. Shoulders hitched and he snuck a peek at her, wary and not wanting to put too much on her shoulders when she had enough weight there with her own feelings. Two seconds ago–he was begging her to talk. To lean on him. Not just to support her. But in that support–there was a counter lean where she’d be his, too. But he wanted to be careful. He was always careful with her. Because so few people in her life ever really were. Only when he was sure he wasn’t forcing her to talk to him–a few words that slipped past her lips were confirmation of that in her own unique way of saying she might let herself need him–Blaine freed a hand and offered it to her rather than stand up. It was a please but a means of letting her back out one last time if she deeply wanted to. “We don’t even necessarily have to talk? We could just sit here and that’d be fine with me. Whatever you want just,” he glanced at his hand and back to her. “If that’s okay?”
pianokeysandbowties 