This is actually not Victorious! o.O

I came up with it literally minutes ago. It's weird, I know. Like me.

Disclaimer: Glee = not mine :(

Dark brown, almost black eyes apathetically watch the small fly on the wall. And it seems their owner is deep in thought.

But really, her mind is empty.

Two loving arms hug the girl with the dark eyes from behind.

"Hey, babe." Lips whisper in her ear. She feels the warm breath on her skin. And she smiles.

Until her eyes (those beautiful dark eyes) start watering.

"Sweetie…" The gentle voice coos. "Don't cry. I'm right here."

Santana smiles even widely.

"Of course you are. You'll always be here."

"Yess..." The voice drawls the 's' a bit and it sounds like a hiss. "Alwayss…"

Santana doesn't know how to express her gratitude. So she snuggles more closely in her lover's arms and says nothing.

"You know," Noah says before she can start thinking (because it's not good for her health to think). "what's the best thing about you?"

She shakes her head, her lips twitching upwards again.

"What is?"

"Your legs." Santana turns her head puzzled and frowns. "Yeah, babe, your legs. Those perfect tanned legs of yours and the treasure between them… yeah, it's my favorite, and those sounds you make when I-"

Santana grumbles something and pushes him back, indignation squeezing her throat. He just looks at her confused and hurt and she's opening her mouth to scream 'What the hell is wrong with you?' when the brown outflows (yes, outflows) from his eyes and they're not glib and flirty and brown anymore.

They're blue. Sky blue.

Sam runs his hand through his thick blond hair.

"You really frustrate me sometimes, you know." He sighs. "Everytime I try to get near, you reject me."

Santana blinks confused. Oh my God, I just did not-

"No…" She murmurs unsurely. "No, no, no… I'm sorry. I didn't mean to…"

"Of course you didn't." He protests quietly.

"Sam, please!" She jumps from her seat, takes his face in her hands and presses her lips to his, trying to merge all her love for him into the kiss.

She stops when she realizes he doesn't kiss back, and opens her eyes.

He watches her in shock. And his eyes are not blue anymore. They're brown. Again. A lighter brown.

She releases his face and watches him just as horrified.

"Sam?" He asks quietly, pain dripping from his voice and practically stabbing her heart. "Did you just call me Sam?"

Santana inhales deeply. I think I'm going out of my mind.

"Finn…"

"I left the girl who loved me down for… this?!" His voice is filled with disbelief.

"Baby, it was just a mistake, I swear…"

"No, you were a mistake." He wrinkles his nose in disgust and starts walking away. She grabs his hand and turns him around.

Her brown eyes meet his brown… his green eyes.

What. The. Fuck.

Quinn smiles at her somehow seductively.

"Hey, Santana."

The Latina tries to swallow the lump in her throat.

"B-but… But you were Finn. And then Finn was Sam. And then Sam was-"

"Shh." The blonde puts her finger on Santana's lips and makes her shut up. "It's okay, baby."

"No, it's not okay!" Santana protests desperately. "Look, Q, all this is some big misunderstanding. I just wanted-"

"Unicorns?"

Huh?

Santana tries to even her breathing. Why the hell did she mistake the blue for green? Those eyes are obviously blue.

"Oh, I'm sure we can find unicorns somewhere." Brittany reassures her warmly. "And just so you know, it's B, not Q." She furrows her eyebrows and bites her lower lip. "Unless my name is Quittany. Who even created the alphabet? What if B actually is pronounced like Q and we all live in a lie-"

"Shut up!" Santana yells so loudly that her lungs hurt. Normally she would never dare shout at her baby (because Britt is everything for her… or, wait, maybe it was Finn…). But all this is a little too much for her right now.

She opens her eyes. Brittany's gone.

Santana wants to shout again (because she has no idea what is going on) but she has no strength to do so. It's like someone ripped her vocal chords out.

Her eyes (those beautiful dark eyes) look back at the wall.

The flies are two now. Happily buzzing and clashing one with another. But it's nothing serious. They're only playing.

Just like her.