(no subject)

With all the people around and the commotion accompanying midnight, it takes a few minutes for Jenny to lead them through the crowd and off towards the stairwell leading to her room (up now, instead of down, which is strange but not unwelcome. She wouldn't want to be living underground when it's this cold, and she likes having windows to be able to see the snow-dusted streets outside, the atmosphere that she honestly thinks she'll miss a little when it changes back to normal. Not all of the Victorian setting has suited her, but she's much more cut out for a place like this than a beach). If she's honest, she's grateful for that. It isn't like she's having second thoughts — far from it, especially considering she doesn't precisely know what's about to happen — but that doesn't make her any less flustered by the prospect of what she could do, and this brief while allows her to let her heart rate slow a little, breaths coming steadier by the time they reach their destination. This is right, she knows it is, feels it with a certainty that surpasses even her decision to lose her virginity on her seventeenth birthday. She just hopes that she isn't the only one who thinks so, that his going slow has been for her benefit like she believes it to be.

"Well," she says as she opens the door, keeping close to Cameron all the while, fighting off the urge to just kiss him again on the spot. "Here we are." For the first time, it occurs to her to be glad that Santana's moved out, leaving her with the room — or the set of rooms, as the case may be now — all to herself. The last thing she wants is an interruption at a time like this, when they came up here for some privacy in the first place.