Thank you guys for putting in the effort with the reviews. I know it must get sort of annoying me being all review-pander-y. I recognize that I do that. But it really does brighten my day every time, helps sort of boost this story as a whole, and inspire me.

Hey, by chance are any of you absolute Latin scholars who would like to tutor me for free in Latin? No. I didn't think so. *Sigh* I hate Latin.

Recap: After running out of practice, too enticed (we'll say) by Quinn, Quinn tracks her down sitting under a tree studying and informs her that they are partners in number for The Bella's. They actually get along spectacularly during their first rehearsal. Then, during their second, Puck comes calling and Santana leaves fifteen minutes early to go "hunting." As they walk away Puck informs Santana that Quinn's arousal was off the charts. Meanwhile, Quinn is scheming with Chloe and Rachel to get Beca into Chloe's arms.

Queen Quinn Gets Coffee

Quinn's POV

First she ditches me fifteen minutes early from last rehearsal and now she doesn't even show up to practice! I texted. I called. Twice! She's just not responding. And now I get to walk down to the ballet studio, wait for fifteen minutes, and then get to traipse back up the stairs to go get her lazy ass out of bed!

Why must she be like this? She's absolutely charming, completely sociable, absolutely gorgeous, and clearly very intelligent to have been placed in a sophomore class and passed Crazy July's writing 'test' in one go. Why then must she also be a stubborn, moody, chronically late, commitment-phobe, quitter! She's absolutely infuriating. I try to be angry at her but then she shows me how to dance or carries boxes or is genuinely sweet and buys me a coffee, like for our second rehearsal (she paid attention to my coffee order!). But just as she hooks me in she does some dick move that makes me hate her again, like sleep in during our already planned practice time!

Just as I'm about to knock on the door a bustling blonde comes out, nearly ready to run me over. "Oh! Hey! Sorry QUINN!" She says my name extremely loudly, probably to alert Santana. "Did you need something?" She closes the door a bit, blocking the entrance and any potential view of Santana's side. How did two freshman get a split double?

"I'm just here looking for Santana." I couldn't keep the anger out of my voice, even if I wanted to.

"Oh," Brittany says. She glances towards Santana's side of the room. "Hold on. San!" She calls out. "Quinn's here!" This is a dorm room, not a two story house. The only reason Brittany would need to scream for attention is if Santana was asleep or had headphones on. If that little shit is asleep while I had to wake up an hour earlier just for this practice, I swear to fucking god!

"K," I hear her say in a clearly sleepy voice.

That's it.

I storm in, barging past Brittany (I make a note to apologize for that later. Brittany's just a sweet kid with a bad roommate!). And then I see it. Santana Lopez is lazing around in bed, left hand groping the dresser behind her for a pack of cigarettes, right hand wrapped around a brunette snuggling into Santana's right side, and incredibly voluptuous boobs, nipples hardened from the cold, completely out in the open. I'm straight and I can admit that they're pretty sexy.

"Are you. Fucking. Kidding Me!" I scream. In the back of my mind I register the click of the door closing behind me as Brittany escapes the room.

"Hey Q," she says, holding the cigarette in her mouth so she can grab the lighter.

"It's Quinn," I growl back through gritted teeth.

"What the fuck?" The brunette says sleepily, blinking her eyes open slowly as to adjust to the light. Her eyes catch sight of me as her cheeks blush bright crimson, realizing that both she and Santana's tits were out in the open. I recognize her face. She's just a year ahead of me. Elaine. She anxiously pulls the cover up over both of them, but the see-through sheet does little to hinder my view, not that I'm particularly looking.

"Hi Elaine," I say with a smirk having caught her in such a compromising position.

"Yo, what do you want Quinn? You're interrupting… well a lot of things actually." She lights the cigarette in her mouth.

"I'm sorry if I'm interrupting your beauty sleep with you fuck buddy," I spit venomously, "but I've been waiting over fifteen minutes for you to show up to rehearsal!"

"Shit! Q, I'm sorry!" She runs a hand through her hair with an apologetic but guilty-as-charged smile.

"It's Quinn," I repeat.

"Right, Quinn," she corrects solemnly. "Look, I'll be right down, okay? I promise."

"Oh no! If you're insinuating that I'm going to go outside or back down and wait for you then you've got another thing coming." I must look crazed, but guess what, I fucking am right now.

"Quinn," she says with deadpan seriousness, "I'm naked."

"Thanks Captain Obvious," I say. I notice she smiles a bit, which only goes to further infuriate me. "I'm not leaving this spot. You are going to get dressed, brush your teeth, and come the fuck down and rehearse with me."

"Are you serious?" she complains with a scowl all over her face. I firmly place my feet on the floor and channel my inner bitch, sending her a glare that tells her I'm not backing down. And that's how it stayed for a couple seconds, a showdown that could've set the room on fire.

Finally, she concedes and looks away. "Fine," she says. She brings her fingers to the smoke and inhales once more before positioning to get out of bed.

"Are you fucking kidding me," Elaine says, turning towards her naked bed partner. It just makes me smirk more.

"Sorry, doll," she says, leaning in for a quick peck on the lips. I can actually feel my eyes rolling as she manages to get out of bed, crawl over her bed partner gracefully, and keep the cover over Elaine.

Seeing Santana in all her naked glory was… something I had not been prepared for. I'm straight. I've never seriously considered experimentation. Seeing all that supple, tan skin and Latina ass and voluptuous boobs falling on her chest with her toned claves and ridiculously muscled arms… is a lot to take in at once. She even has a goddamn six-pack. Maybe one at a time I can handle, but all at once? It was like seeing something out of heaven. I may be straight, but I'm not blind. She was hot and I was caught between looking away out of embarrassment or staring longer. Even Elaine was staring shamelessly at her. Although, considering the two had spent just had sex her staring was much more justified.

After taking in one more eyeful I decide to look away. The last thing I need is for Santana to see me staring and start getting cocky on me and tease me about it. Quick enough she's thrown on some leggings, a baggy t-shirt that hides a body that need not hide, and thrown her hair up in a messy ponytail. "Ya happy?" She asks turning angrily towards me.

She has no right to be angry! I have a right to be angry! She ditched me yesterday and today and she's been a total bitch to me at least 50% of the time we've spent together. I walked in on her naked with her fuckbuddy. She can suck it the fuck up.

"Absolutely ecstatic," I say straight-faced.

"Well, as long as Queen Quinn is satisfied," she responds.

QUEEN! QUEEN! I let out an indignant huff.

"Later babe," Santana says to Elaine, giving her an exaggerated kiss on the lips. "Lead on, Queen."

**Blood**

Santana's POV

I really hadn't meant to be late. I was going to set an alarm and everything or ask Brittany to wake me up. I may tease Quinn, but all I really want to do is make her like me. I want to impress her. I didn't mean to be a dick last night, but it was clear that Puck was about to rape somebody if he didn't get his hunger under control. I was going to make it up to her by being super on time and the perfect partner this morning.

Then Puck happened.

The two of us were downing cheap drinks like they were they were air. Of course I never could get truly drunk, but I was at least a little tipsy. Puck was completely drunk. An incubus' metabolism is not a vampire's. The two of us had both stepped away to our respective bathroom's multiple times to suck some blood or have quickies so at the time I had been high on alcohol and blood.

So, in a moment of 'drunken' sadness I told Puck about Quinn and the other night was briefly mentioned. Being an incubus, not being able to have pleasure-filled sex is probably the worst thing to ever exist, so he offered to fix my problem. First with his dick, which I promptly slapped him – hard – for. Then he offered to use his abilities (he calls them sexual superpowers) to make me so aroused that I wouldn't care if it was Quinn or not.

I was a little out of it from the blood and alcohol. I had been spending the last couple of days with Quinn and, of course, falling in even deeper with her. I found out what coffee order she drinks and I've memorized the way her forehead crinkles when she's frustrated and I know that she has no formal experience in dancing, but she loves it and considers herself pretty good.

It was like I was experiencing pain and pleasure all at once. I knew that every new thing I learned would make it so much harder to pull away, so much harder to go on without her, but I couldn't resist. Being with her, near her, even just as ships in the night, was worth every heartache. This could be her last life. I'm going to remember her.

So Puck caught me when I was heartbroken and fucking aroused after that… moment with Quinn dancing, but I knew I couldn't have her. I needed a way to get over her or continue on without her and that's what Puck offered even if only temporarily. So foolishly, I said yes.

I was stumbling out of that bar, so numb to any feelings other than sex, and with Elaine on my arm. So I took her to our dorm room and fucked her until we were both satisfied and I was so exhausted I couldn't think of anything but the word sleep.

Then I heard Brittany say Quinn.

And now I'm here, taking off my shoes and getting ready to continue showing Quinn some choreography. The entire room is silent and she's just standing there, arms crossed and huffing silently about my tardiness.

"I'm sorry," I say speaking up. "I didn't mean to be late… or a dick to you in my room."

"Yeah well, it just seems to be your natural state, huh San," she bites back. "God, I can't wait for this stupid partnership to be over!"

"Personally, I've liked working with you," I admit with a nonchalant shrug, hoping to take a bit of seriousness out of the statement.

Silence.

I begin to consider something that hadn't actually occurred to me before. "Look, is this because of earlier? You found me in bed with a girl and you're not okay that?" I never thought that my soul mate wouldn't actually be attracted to me. I mean, it just seems sort of ridiculous, but it was possible. Soul mates do come in more than the romantic form.

"What? No!" Her thoughts immediately bombard me with flat-out denial and passionate beliefs. "I have no problems with your sexuality. Three of my closest friends are bisexual. Why is it so hard to believe I just have a problem with you? You're a moody, bitchy, continuously absent girl who seems to have an on and off switch for courtesy. I don't care who you sleep with. I just pity them."

"Okay," I say uneasily, unsure of this territory. "Look, let's just… get this over with," I concede.

"Great," she says curtly.

"Fine." I take a deep breath in. "So, do you remember the steps from last night?"

"Yes, I do because I actually care about our rehearsals and pay attention," she comments aggressively.

"Okay, great," I say trying to remain civil. "So, start at the beginning?"

"Whatever."

Wow. I sure do have a type. Quinn has never looked alike, but her personality has always had a few core values. Two traits that have always been prevalent through Quinn's many reincarnations: she's got attitude and she won't back down easily. I guess I like a girl who gives me a bit of a hard time. Just my luck, huh.

The two of us begin our dance, in more ways that one. She sits down on the ground, where a piano would be once we performed, and the two of us begin to sing, continuing our same movements from last night, following through to the moves we didn't do and I only said.

At the chorus, we enter new territory. "Can you take my part for a second so I can show you?" She places a gentle hand on my waist and clasps her hand in mine, mimicking our former stance with roles reversed. I take our two hands and disconnects them, instead moving one to midway down her back. I quickly move under her arm, still hanging in midair wondering where her hand had gone, and appear behind her, using the palm of my hand on her back to push off of of her in a beautiful separation.

I begin moving upstage, leading with her right foot and stepping away. I pull her hands in for a small spin on her way before continuing to, essentially, walk away from her. Then I open her arms out wide like a bird in flight. "And then at this position I'll appear behind you and try to grab your hand, and you'll turn around and the official chorus will start."

She nods and I can tell she's slightly impressed. My moves weren't particularly advanced, but I imagine the skill at which I executed them looked good.

We go back to position and pull apart as the two of us vaguely sing 'I'm breaking.' Then, I run towards her, grab her hand and twirls her in towards me. I sense her pulse increasing. The two of us continuing dancing with easy enough steps. I hook my left foot around my leg for a split second, like a slight flourish for detail, that is a common move in the salsa. Then I nod her head, cuing her to repeat my motions. I find that it's a pretty easy process. She needs to work on her posture, but the basic steps are quite simple and she's a natural.

Once the time comes for me to show her more steps she immediately disconnects, escaping from me as though I am monster and she is damsel in distress, which I suppose is a fairly accurate analogy except she'd be the hero. She'd be the hero to come slay the dragon. And I'd let her. It hurts to see her spurn me so quickly. "That was excellent, Quinn. You picked that up really quickly," I compliment, hoping it'll be one more step towards being in her good graces once again.

"Yeah, I bet you didn't even choreograph that. It was probably just Britt and you're taking credit for it."

"Okay, you can insult me all you want. That's fine," I say taking a domineering step forward, "But my work is my own and the fact that you're saying you don't think I have the skill to choreograph a dance like is, frankly, really insulting and uncalled for!"

Silence fills the room.

I've fucked up.

I shouldn't have said anything. Great, now she's never going to forgive me. She's just going to hate me, which might be the better choice for her in the end.

And then she says the one thing I didn't expect, "You're right. I'm sorry." My head immediately shoots up in shocked response. "You may be a lot of things, Santana, but that doesn't give me the right to question your abilities."

"Thank you. Let's continue."

"Okay."

**Life**

"So, last practice," I say awkwardly. God, I sound like a fucking idiot. We both know it's the last practice. We perform in two days. Way to state the obvious, Santana.

"Yup." She's still a little mad about me ditching her multiple times, but thankfully she's been much more civil throughout this practice. Although she hasn't said that much either. She's pretty much trying to interact with me as little as possible, not an entirely terrible strategy on her part.

"I, uh, guess this is goodbye then? I mean… besides all of our Bella's practices, but I mean it's not like we'll really be spending too much personalized time there so it's sort of the equivalent of goodbye. Then again maybe you consider that still spending time together? I don't know. But like… if nothing else goodbye for now?" I praise the gods that I finally stopped talking, although I think it would more aptly be stumbling and tripping over words. Angry Quinn I can deal with. Nice Quinn I absolutely love (too much), but ignoring me 'civil' Quinn… she just makes me nervous. It's this uncomfortable in between. It's like… it's like there's no emotion. No nothing between us. I'd rather have her angry and yelling than silent and civil.

"Goodbye, Santana," she says curtly. Immediately she walks out the door of the basement studio, presumably to the first floor and out into the cold.

I sigh with a slump of my shoulders as I make my way outside of the room as well. Brittany is waiting for me. I can smell her. "Hey Britt," I say despondently, still a bit distracted by my less than satisfactory departure with Quinn.

"San, you were a fucking mess in there!"

"What? How did you know that?"

"I don't need to read minds to hear through thin walls."

"What are you even doing there?" I ask, trying to change the subject to something les depressing than my non-existent love life.

"I knew you were rehearsing down here so I stopped by. I have an essay to hand in and I ned you to proofread it. I figured I'll treat you to diner, you treat me to an editing session."

I let out another sigh. I think my life has become a series of disappointed sighs ever since Quinn entered it. "Yes sure." I sort of hate proofreading for Britt. Numbers and statistics are her area. Not writing. I always feel terrible because I change at least half of it and personally rewrite 2/3 of the changes.

"Thanks! Anyways, it just so happens that fate also led me here to tell you to go run after her!"

"What? Why? I should be avoiding her if anything." Another sigh.

"Because if you avoid her it'll kill you. In fact, if your relationship, platonic or romantic, is anything but happy it'll probably kill ya, kid," she says. "Plus, I'm telling you to."

"That's not a very good reason," I argue.

"It's the only reason that matters," she says. "Now go ask her out to coffee or dinner or I'll bring the rest of my stuffed animal collection with me and you'll be sharing our dorm room with at least 50 beanie babies and 300 stuffed animals overall. You know how happy I'd be."

"Fine. You can't blackmail me with stuffed animals."

"Okay, how about real animals? I'll bring Lord Tubbington with me."

"You can't. It's against school policy."

"Have you met me? I could get away with murder and they'd never know. What's a cat in the scope of that scale?"

The sad thing is that she probably could. And I fucking hate that cat. "Fine, give me a few seconds. Then I'm demanding that dinner from you."

I vaguely hear her calling 'You got it chief' but I'm already out the door and outside by that time.

"Quinn," I shout out, immediately turning my pace into one recognizable as a human speed.

"Santana?"

"Hey," I say, catching up the the slightly snow-covered blonde.

"How'd you catch up with me so fast?"

I shrug noncommittally. "Always been fast. Look, I don't like the way we've left things."

"What do you mean? Everything is perfectly fine. I've forgiven you."

"Not really," I reply. She glowers at me as if questioning her isn't an option. "But I want you to." I find myself meaning every word. "So you wanna grab a coffee sometime? It's all on me. You could buy every pastry in the shop if you want. I'll show up early and stay however long you want. So, what do you say?"

I can't remember being this nervous in decades and of all things it's over a coffee date. It's not even a date. It's a coffee hang out with someone who generally dislikes me. It feels like some of the longest seconds in my life.

"Okay." Immediately I breathe a sigh of relief and a smile appears on my face that couldn't go away even if I wanted to.

"Okay?"

"Okay. But I'm only going for the free coffee."

"Okay. When?"

"I know we didn't have time for a full rehearsal tomorrow, but I have a half an hour at 2?"

"Sounds great." As she walks away I remind myself to thank Brittany depending how this goes.

**Love**

True to my word I arrived early. 1:45. I was by no means going to be late to this. If I had to fight a horde of zombies I'd still make sure to arrive not one second past 2. It probably wasn't even possible for me to be late at this point. I had been counting down the seconds in my head until this meet up. I know it sounds obsessive, but it's always been a nervous habit of mine and counting the time is always easy for me. For me, it's like your brain is a computer screen and there's the window with the internet open doing the thinking, the window with Microsoft word typing out all your responses, and then the clock on the right hand corner. Everybody's brain does it, but as a vampire being born of the mind goddess it makes it a lot easier to tune into.

The moment she stepped into the overpriced college book store I knew. There was always that tug in your stomach when your mate is nearby. It's not like any butterflies and it's not really a fire either. It's more like a scanner that's always tracking and when they're nearby a little blip appears in your stomach or like a text alert on your phone.

As she gets closer I can smell her and her ever present mix of lavender and vanilla. I wonder briefly if it's possible to get addicted to lavender and vanilla to an unhealthy extent. It's not like it's a drug or anything, not in any listed medical source, but could it be possible? People say you can get addicted to anything. "Hey," I say standing up far too quickly. Had I been human I'm sure I would've had a small dizzy spell.

"Hey," she replies. She grips her book bag just a little bit tighter. "So, coffee?"

"Yeah, absolutely," I say too eagerly. I jump into line with her, regretting not having already been standing there. "I would've waited in the line before you came but then I thought about if I got to the front of the line before you came that wouldn't really work and it would just end with me awkwardly waiting holding up the line and I didn't want to do that so I-"

"Santana, it's fine." She still has this sort of annoyed tone in her voice that makes me shut up immediately. We spend the rest of the four-person line in awkward silence. She tries to check her phone for any messages or mail, anything to keep her busy and occupied in this line, but there's nothing there. I feel bad at my seeming inability to start a reasonable human conversation with her. I could do it before. Why not now?

I thank god the line moved quickly. The barista took our orders. Quinn changed it up from her usual and got a pumpkin spice latte and a broccoli and cheese quiche. They were some of the most expensive things there. I wonder if she got them because she has expensive taste, simply didn't realize it, or to spite me since I was paying. The money itself made no difference to me since I'm independently wealthy, but the reason did. No matter what it'd allow me more insight into her mind.

This is why I hate having my abilities. I could read her mind easily and find out why she did it. I could probe her entire mind and go so much deeper until I knew things even she didn't know, but just because I can doesn't mean I should. In fact, I made a strict rule that I shouldn't. I know that Quinn would never appreciate me purposely reading her mind without her consent. She'd probably walk out of my life without a second thought if she ever found out.

The two of us take an uncomfortable seat at a nearby table, waiting for our names to be called.

"So," she says awkwardly. "Are you ready for tomorrow?"

"Totally."

"Great."

"Yup. Uh, what about you?"

"Yeah."

Silence.

Both pairs of eyes looking back and forth for distraction.

Anything to avoid looking directly at each other.

"Um…"

My eyes snap backing to attention.

Because now it's polite to stare.

"So, why did you join the Bella's?"

"My best friend really wanted to audition and she didn't want to do it alone," I reply.

"Is that all?" she asks, eyebrows furrowed.

"No," I admit. "It's a lot of fun performing. It's a good release." I feel myself immediately blush. A good release. I know she's no thinking of it like that but I sure am. And I'm thinking of my last release… to her. "A lot of tension y'know," I say uncomfortably. "I can just get really throw my heart and soul into it and it's great making people smile. Music just sort of has this magical way of delivering a message plus it's catchy," I say deciding to just speak exactly what I mean. Maybe this'd end up as less of a fuck up if I did.

"That's sweet," she says with her first smile of this meet-up. "I was going to say, you definitely seem to enjoy it on stage more than just auditioning for your best friend." My ears perk up. Does this mean she pays attention to me to?

"What about you? Why did you join the Bella's?" I ask curiously.

"I was in the Glee Club in high school and it's where I created some of my memories and I love to sing. It's more a recreational hobby, but it's a lot of fun. Plus, there were a lot of cool people in there. I mean, I didn't know it at the time, but after one rehearsal with those girls I knew thy were friends for life. My best friend, Rachel, joined with me." Rachel? The hobbit with the Jewish nose? Really? She seems so fucking annoying.

"That's cool," I remark. "So, are you an English or Journalism major?"

"What? No. I'm undecided. Why do you ask?"

"Oh, well most of the people in that writing class take it because they want to become sort of writing/English major," I say. "Is that what you're leaning towards though, even if you are undecided?"

"I don't really know," Quinn says with a troubled frown on her mouth. I wish I could brush a finger across her lips and make it disappear. "Technically I'm undecided but I'm in all the courses that an English major or lawyer would be in. I also take a few photography classes."

"Woah! Law classes! That's got to be crazy! Most people that are lawyers declare before even coming because the classes are so rigorous. How are you handling so many classes?" My soul mate is a genius. It figures. I secretly smile proudly.

"It's a lot of work," she admits. "But I'm just so unsure of what I want to do so I'm holding it off until I'm forced to declare, but whatever I choose I don't want to be behind so I'm just balancing like… three different potential majors right now." She chuckles awkwardly. I hope I don't come off as one of those bragging people, she thinks.

"That's… amazing," I say in true awe of her.

"Santana and Quinn!" I hear the barista call, our drinks arriving on the counter. I quickly jump up before she can to grab both. "I've got it." She smiles for the second time.

I return quickly to the table. "Those are three very different careers? What do you love about them? Have you considered double majors or a major with a double minor?"

"I've always loved writing. I've found it a sort of nice way to sort through your emotions and a good way to articulate things. I've also always been really good at it. I don't know, words have always had this ability to make me swoon. Photography just offers this really unique perspective and I love looking at things and people through different lenses and it's just a lot of fun capturing beautiful moments. Or even ugly moments. Law? I mean, it's just the most reasonable career. I'll never go hungry or anything and my parents support that the most. I'll be allowed to fight for justice for the right reasons and really make a difference in somebody's life. And yeah, I've thought of double-majoring, but they're all sort of difficult to double major in and I already have other minors in mind."

"Others?"

"I've always been really great with foreign languages. I was thinking of a minor in French." The thought of Quinn speaking French immediately drives me nuts. I can feel my mouth running dry, all of my body's fluids headed south. I think I might die if Quinn spoke French.

"Wow," I say with a completely audible gulp.

"What about you?" she asks. "What's your major? Writing too?"

"Yeah, basically," I say. "Um, I'm majoring in creative writing and journalism with a side of history. I haven't decided which time period and location to specifically look into though."

"You're a double major?" She sounds impressed. She sounds like she wasn't expecting it.

I wasn't expecting that. Like, yes she's clearly very smart after passing through Crazy July's first class with ease, but she always felt like a bit of a slacker to me.

I don't know whether to be a bit offended or laugh.

"Yes."

"Is that hard?"

"Yeah, but I love what I chose so it's also just a lot of fun. I end up spending a lot of my time in the stacks or interviewing, but Yale has such a great collection. Did you know we have this great amazing collection of ancient Sumerian texts? It takes a really long time to translate, but it's pretty humbling to be one of the few to really read them."

"Aren't those things already translated?"

"Yeah, but a lot of stuff is untranslatable and the nuance is lost through the languages," I respond.

And suddenly she's laughing. It's not a full, rumbling laugh like when a good joke is told. It's more a quiet, reserved laugh. "I never anticipated you'd be such a nerd." I know she's laughing at me, but it feels more like she's laughing with me.

"Hey," I defend. "The ancient Sumerians were fucking badass. They had one of the most sophisticated armies of the Bronze Age." This just makes her laugh more. And I quickly find myself laughing with her.

After finally catching our breaths, Quinn asks, "So why writing?"

"Well… I suppose as a history major I've always appreciated the written record. I think writing best captures everything in history. It's captured the great words of Socrates and a record of Tiananmen Square. It's been used to oppress, Mein Kampf, and it's used its words to spark revolution like Uncle Tom's Cabin. It can just be used so many different ways. It's sort of like music, there are only so many words but if you string them in a different order it makes something new and interesting every single time."

"Look at us, a couple of loser's," Quinn says with another laugh.

"Very true." I raise my cheap, paper cup. "Cheers to that."

"Cheers!"

I really owe Brittany a thank you.

I'm content.

"So, tell me about Rachel. How do you stand her?"

I hope you enjoyed this! So, I have this thing of one-shots that I started. It's not going to replace this story. It's like a side-thing to blow off steam when an idea pops into my head. If that sounds interesting to you go check it out.

I think I might do something with Britt's soul mate, it won't be much if any. Probably just a small thing at the end of this story, nothing overshadowing like the Bechloe in this. I like the idea of them being either OC/another fandom. I really did love the idea of Chloe being her soul mate, guys, but since I've made it very clear that a vampire just knows upon the moment of meeting their soul mate and Chloe/Britt have already met it can't happen.