#f2f.004

Santana had always been able to find a peaceful groove in the kitchen despite the several elements to tend to while cooking, but it always choreographed itself into a seamless rhythm, and tonight was no exception. Santana was cooking Tamales, a special recipe that had been passed down several generations in her family. The taste always concluded in the moans and overly eager head nods of approval within the first bite. It was perfect, a perfect thank you for letting her stay there to Sam.

The table was set; the final outcome slightly dimmed lighting and simple arrangments so their plates were set across from one another. Simple, and definitely not dim lights paired with flickering candles in the middle of the table, and dare she admit it, Prince, playing in the background; an idea abolished the moment she stepped back and saw the atrocities she had originally set up. This wasn’t a date, no, a simple thank you. Her outfit, the 100% cotton mini dress, thin in material, and hanging on her like a cheap suit, rest assured she was casually saying thank you, despite casually putting her assets on display - as per usual. The last of the fixings for the salsa were being sprinkled on when she heard the jingle than footsteps of Sam’s arrival.

“Hey,” she said, not looking up as she stirred the salsa together one last time. “I made dinner,” this time, her eyes did flicker over to him, a smile sneaking onto her lips, foreshadowing something slightly shade, but plenty playful. “Thought I would show you I’m not all t&a, and ten years off your hairline from stress.” She said with words strewn out in a smooth, silken tone. Salsa in hand, she walked towards him, stopping right in front of him,”wash up for dinner?”, she asked innocently, with a flirtatious grin, all the while making a point to brush her hand along his strong stomach as she continued to the table.

Quinn had already said good bye, but her feet and hands didn’t quite comprehend the actual meaning of such a thing because they were driving to the one house she shouldn’t be. Losing Hunter wasn’t expected. She wasn’t prepared, and her heart hurt immensely. While her fears should have been directed at him getting loose lips in the swarm of spite he seemed to be soaking in; losing him was what hurt the most. Her heart was pounding, dried tears staining her pale skin a splotchy red as she sniffled a couple more times. When she parked in front of his house it took a good ten minutes until she got the will to walk the path into his home.

 She went the back way, it had became the front door to her in her years of knowing him. Fingers brushed against one another, a vain attempt at sweeping the nervous energy away. Trying to concentrate on her words, pleads, and hope, but it was muffled by the voices of Hunter and his maid. She didn’t intend on secretly invading on their conversation, but she sure in the hell wasn’t gonna scatter when she heard the sweet exchange. Quinn smiled, the hope once again blossoming in her stomach. Her head leaned against the frame of the door, smiling to herself at how sweet his words were. 

Giving it ten minutes or so she walked into the kitchen. She kissed the familiar women before she quietly crept up the stairs to Hunter’s room. “Hey...” She peaked in, her body following her to stand in front of his bed. “I...” Gosh this was hard - deep breaths before she was able to pry her eyes already swarmed with fresh tears, “...I can’t say good bye.”