"You're stepping on my feet again, Santana," a soft, mildly amused voice stated quietly, fingertips gently brushing against the fabric of the Latina's loose v-neck, her hands resting on the blushing girl's slim waist as the quiet, almost inaudible sound of beautiful piano playing drifted into their large, spacious living room.
Since last year, it wasn't just Quinn's, or Santana's. It was theirs. Forever theirs.
Santana playfully glared at the smirking blonde, her fingers soon finding themselves placed gently at the nape of the girl's neck, subconsciously tangling themselves into Quinn's unbelievably silky locks as they aimlessly swayed on the cool, hard-wood floor.
"Shut up, Fabray," Santana replied playfully, giving her wife a good-natured roll of her eyes before the two fell into a comfortable silence, sharing one of their many spontaneous barefooted dances in their living room before the two proceeded to lay together under a blanket and spend the day watching countless horror movies, as they always did when they had the time.
Whoever flinched first had to be the little spoon.
Quinn usually had a smug smirk on her face whenever they fell asleep.
It was peaceful, whenever they danced. It was never too early in the day, as Santana was always cranky in the morning, but it was never too late either.
So they often opted to have their dances in the early afternoon, just as the signs of morning were fading. It would just be the two, the faint, familiar sounds of the inexhaustible New York traffic, the brilliant afternoon sunshine, Santana always entranced by the moment, and Quinn, with her hazel eyes shining with adoration.
It would be two pairs of feet, one always moving with ease and comfort, the other not always quite so.
But both would be hardly moving, mostly swaying along to a silent melody within their minds. Quinn would lead her wife along, and Santana would be almost tucked away under the girl's chin, where she experienced feelings that she very seldom felt unless she was with Quinn.
Protected.
Cherished.
Loved.
"Let's start a family, San," Quinn would always say.
"Okay," Santana finally replied.