They're sprawled on the living room floor, the carpet a cushion for their backs.
"Do you have to go?" Brittany breathes out, her voice soft like cotton.
Santana closes her eyes and lets the words burrow into her chest. Every time she comes home for a visit it gets harder and harder to leave. Seeing Brittany's beautiful face on her Skype screen just doesn't compare to when she can cup the angular jaw and press her lips to the pink pout that is soft as rose petals and sweeter than spun sugar.
"Mmm," she hums, not trusting her voice; she knows it'll crack under the strain of her impending departure.
Brittany sighs, her fingers crawling across the cream carpet until they find the warm digits of her girlfriend's left hand. She says nothing as she slips her pinky into Santana's, squeezing their little fingers together tightly.
Santana's lips curve into a broad smile and she opens her eyes slowly. The simple physical connection makes her heart flutter as she studies the pattern of paint swirls on the ceiling. She mentally flashes over her shared history with Brittany and her smile widens into a radiant beam. How many pinky promises have they made to each other? A million? A trillion? More than there are stars in the sky, she thinks, tensing the muscles of her pinky in return.
"I love you, B," she states, her voice low and thick.
It's Brittany's turn to close her eyes, a grin already tracing itself across her face, making her cheeks warm and rosy; Santana's voice thrums through her and plucks at the strings of her heart. There are so many ways in which her girlfriend expresses her love: actual words, kisses, pinky links, hugs, love notes, the surprise packages of DOTS she receives from with an accompanying letter that reads "Sweets for my sweet 3 Santana Banana." But out of everything, from grand gestures to tiny murmurs, Brittany feels it most when they lay together in near silence. She feels it in the synched rhythm of their breathing and the tandem beats of their hearts, always each other's complement.
"I love you too, San." Brittany opens her leaden eyelids and rolls onto her side, being careful not to break their promise link. Her shoulder is digging into the floor at a painful angle, but she can't let go of Santana…not yet.
Santana feels the shift in Brittany's position and her face flushes as sapphire eyes bore into her. Even after all this time she can never quite get used to Brittany's gaze; it's piercing yet soothing. Taking in a lightly shuddering breath, she rotates her body to face her girlfriend. Their eyes lock instantly, like corresponding magnets, and Santana is lost in swirls of blue. She swears that Brittany's irises are like the ocean, never the same color twice. Sometimes they're crystalline, like sparkling glass, but other times they're dark and brooding, like two tiny storms on the verge of eruption.
They stay like this, facing each other, until their sides ache from the unforgiving floor beneath them, the carpet having molded to their curves. It doesn't matter though; the pain seeps in slowly and they're too caught up in each other to give it a second thought. It's when Brittany's smile reaches her eyes and Santana's right dimple deepens that the intensity morphs into soft giggles.
Santana sits up, tugging Brittany after her, before guiding the pale hand to her lips and pressing a chaste kiss to the warm flesh. Both of them sigh in relief as their rib cages readjust to the lack of pressure, but Brittany's breath hitches softly as Santana's lips land like butterfly wings against her skin. It is then, and only then, that Brittany relinquishes her pinky's tight grip, breaking their physical covenant. Scooting forward on her bottom, her hand finds the curve of Santana's jaw, her thumb brushing over a defined cheekbone.
"You missed," she teases, leaning in and nuzzling her nose softly against Santana's. Blue eyes flutter closed and her mouth finds the familiar curves of Santana's lips.
Santana can smell the Strawberry Lip Smackers before she can taste it, but her brain fogs over anyway and her senses ignite with a spark. Kissing Brittany is mind boggling; she feels submerged in ice water yet wrapped up in a warm wool blanket; she's floating, yet anchored to the ground. A small moan escapes her chest as her bottom lip is sucked into wet warmth. With natural ease, Santana moves forward and adjusts into straddling Brittany's toned thighs. To any observer it would look sexual, but for Santana it is a way to feel Brittany's heartbeat against her own chest.
She combs her fingers through silky flaxen hair and relishes the light hum that leaves Brittany's lungs and sinks into her own. The kiss ends slowly with both pairs of lips puckered and foreheads fused together. Umber and sapphire eyes are hidden beneath heavy lids, dancing to the rhythm of their melodic hearts as they breathe each other's air. They smile at the same time, unknowingly, and soak in the closeness that pervades the moment.
"You were always a better aim," Santana quips, scratching lightly at the nape of Brittany's neck.
"I think you mean expert," Brittany plays along, looping her arms around the petite waist resting on her lap.
Their heads finally part when Santana cranes her neck back and allows a heavy laugh to bubble out.
"My mistake. Cupid better watch his back," she retorts between huffs of laughter.
"Oh, he's safe. After all, he did give me you," Brittany coos, placing soft pecks along the length of Santana's exposed neck.
Santana shakes her head and wills away the blaze of heat that is hidden by the caramel color of her skin.
"You're smooth, Brittany Pierce," Santana praises, tilting her head back up and scrunching her nose with a smile.
"Wanky," Brittany jests in a whisper, eliciting another outburst of laughter from Santana.
…