Author's Note: Ficlet written for Brittana Week, Day 3.
"Hey, San?"
"Yeah?" We stood at the large, wooden doors to the church. I had my left arm linked around my father's and Brittany had her right arm around her dad's. I wanted to hold her hand, but we had practiced this a dozen times, and they insisted we keep our hands to our sides. I just couldn't help it. Ever since the day I held Brittany's hand for the world to see, I never wanted to stop. And, fine, maybe I grabbed Brittany's hand a couple of times during the rehearsals just to spite Berry (because, yes, Brittany somehow managed to convince me to let her hire Rachel Berry as our wedding planner). But, right now, I wanted to hold Brittany's hand for reasons way beyond Rachel Berry. I wanted to hold her hand because there was no other hand in the world that fit mine so perfectly, because she was so beautiful, because I loved her so much.
"Remember how I wanted to sing 'Come to My Window' with you?"
I glanced at our fathers, a bit embarrassed about this particular choice of song Brittany decided to bring up. "Yes, I do, Britt," I whispered. But after the embarrassment passed, I frowned. There wasn't a happy ending to this particular memory Brittany was revisiting. "Why do you ask?"
Everything about Brittany glowed today: her golden hair, her sparkling eyes, and each and every one of her freckles. But, now, something weighed down her brows and twisted them with deep, dark thoughts. "Remember my talk show?"
"Fondue for Two, you mean?" I asked with a slight grin. Daddy Pierce chuckled quietly.
"Yeah."
"What's wrong, Britt-Britt?"
"You…never came."
I opened my mouth, but I had no words. They had all drowned along with my heart that sunk deep into my gut. Back in high school, Brittany had played off each time I let her down by making random, silly remarks. But our wedding day. Our freaking wedding day, and those things I did to her had never left her too soft heart after all.
"Brittany," I said. I said it slowly, so I could think through every word. "Brittany, this is my promise." I gestured at the doors, doors that once opened would lead us into a church, a church filled with people, people who would witness the biggest declaration of my life. "My promise to you that I will never, ever leave until the day I die. Do you understand, sweetheart?"
Brittany tried to smile despite her trembling lips. "Yes." The murky oceans of her eyes turned clear and smooth again but remained a tad watery.
"Don't cry, love. You don't want mascara running down your beautiful face on your wedding day, do you?" The words were meant for myself, too, as those heavy tingles clawed at my throat.
"No, I don't." Brittany shook her head and took in a deep breath.
"Are you good?"
"Y-yeah." The word still caught in her throat, where it was filled to the brink with her unshed tears.
"I'm not going anywhere, Brittany."
"Promise?"
"I promise," I whispered. My father patted my arm, and Mr. Pierce nodded at me with a small, appreciative smile.
As our fathers pushed open the looming doors, I grabbed Brittany's hand and held on for dear, dear life.