A/N: Originally written for the Valentine's day prompt on tumblr's Brittana week.
The tips of Santana's shoes scuff over the ground, the leather getting dusty and scratched but she doesn't care, after all they're only shoes, expensive nice shoes which her dad will replace in a heartbeat if she mentions she needs new ones.
The swing doesn't take off, shuffling more from left to right than up in the air until Santana eventually stops swinging. It wasn't like she was really trying in the first place, she tells herself.
Rachel Berry would probably find a wonderful metaphor in there how she can't even get a swing swinging right and would sing a song about it with tears streaming down her face, but Rachel Berry is thankfully not here.
It's about the only good thing to Santana at the moment. A cold wind blows past her, leaving her shivering in his wake. She pulls the collar of her jacket higher, without getting any warmer. Her jacket is designed to look good inside but it's rather useless outside in the cold February air of Ohio. Maybe it was a stupid idea to come to the playground alone, yet the alternatives were no more enticing than sitting here in the cold. Sitting at Breadstix had been torture with all these gooey eyed couples all around, even newly single Berry had tried to eye-sex those Warbler guys Kurt had brought, although Santana still stands by her theory that that whole school is gay. Coming to the playground was meant to cheer her up, but somehow it's not working. Santana closes her hands tighter around the iron chains of the swing even though her hands are freezing already, trying to swing one more time, but her efforts are as lackluster as the previous one.
Swinging to cheer her up has originally been Brittany's idea, when they were younger and Santana had been sad Brittany had taken her by the hand and let her to the playground. She doesn't even remember why she had been sad back then, but she still remembers the words her friend had told her 'I'll show you a trick San. When I get sad I always go on the swing, because when you swing high enough the bad stuff stays stuck on the ground and can't follow you up.'
So far it always worked, but so far Santana realizes she has never tried to use the trick without Brittany and Brittany isn't here. She's still at Breadstix, feeding pasta to her crippled boyfriend for all Santana knows.
The swing is completely still and Santana kicks the ground, with force this time, figuring it doesn't matter if her boots are already ruined. Not even Quinn is here but at home, still bedridden and tonight it doesn't fill Santana with satisfaction that she put her there. No one is here, the empty swing next to here is proof enough. Before she gets up, she kicks the ground once more for good measure, but it's as ineffective as her swinging earlier.