It turned out that there was nothing more beautiful and flawless than Quinn's nice body. And after seeing quite a fair amount of women in her short life, Santana was absolutely sure that Quinn was wonderfully unique.

When all the clothes were lying somewhere on the floor, Quinn lay back invitingly with her legs parted, the damp petals of her womanhood exposed and waiting, hoping, begging to be impaled by Santana's bulging shaft.

This gift that could be given only once was about to be bestowed to someone, to her, and there's no turning back after the event is done.

She moved closer to Quinn, who's breasts were beautifully formed and rose with every heaving breath. She positioned herself over the gorgeous blonde, between her legs, and gently caressed her aching breasts and sides. The softness of her skin made things ten times more addictive and exciting. She leaned forward and settled her entire weight on Quinn's trembling body. As they kissed, Santana guided her member to Quinn's center, and slowly, carefully eased herself just barely inside her.

Quinn clenched and shuddered but raised her hips slightly to further drive Santana's swollen and well-formed shaft into her already wet center. Santana lowered herself again and as Quinn sighed into the kiss, her dick slid into her slowly and gently until she was completely inside of Quinn.

The moment was unforgettable. When ecstasy was at the utmost, she clutchedat the core while her cheeks burn, eyes shut. There were no words to describe what Santana felt at that precise instant. She was so tight and warm; it was completely delightsome.

"Hey, Quinn." She said when, suddenly, Quinn encircled her with her legs and drove Santana even deeper.

She could feel Quinn pulsating, contracting and releasing her erection until Santana eased herself back for fear that she was hurting Quinn too much.

"Yeah?" Came the verbal reply, breathlessly.

"If you want to stop just tell me, okay?"

Quinn shook her head promptly.

"I don't want to stop." She assured with a beautiful smile. And Quinn's body language said much more.

Santana nodded and began to thrust into her slowly. Soon, both were buckingtheir hips, arching and colliding in almost perfect rhythm. With every thrust, Quinn arched her hips and whimpered beneath Santana to protest the removal of something that she now claimed as her own. If only for that night.

As the seconds passed, Santana and Quinn began to sigh heavily and moan softly, kissing each other with equal passion and lust.

Santana kept up the rhythm that Quinn had set and maintained it relentlessly. With each stroke, she slid her engorged erection completely into Quinn's passion-moistened depths. Their breathing was in gasps, as though the air had thinned.

Quinn's body rose up and pushed as Santana drove her member to its hilt with each thrust at a increasing pace. Santana's mouth was against her neck now, she just found Quinn's sweet spot so she kissed her there. Their breathing was fast and hard. Quinn's breaths came in punctuated gasps.

Santana couldn't even count how many times she had had sex. How many times she touched a woman's body. How many times she kissed and how many times she didn't even kissed while having sex. But this, this was completely different, dissimilar.

This wasn't just sex.

Making love, she'd always believed, was more than simply a pleasurable act between two people. It encompassed all that a couple was supposed to share: trust and commitment, hopes and dreams, promises. The greater the love, the greater the tragedy when it is over. Though, Santana didn't even know if that applied to them because for all that she knew, they were still just friends. Friends that just crossed a really dangerous line.

Santana could no longer resist the increasing passion, Quinn wriggling against her, Quinn's soft whimpers, Quinn's legs pulling her into her ever deeper. With one final thrust, Santana shuddered and exploded inside her. She was sure that Quinn could feel her seed spill into her, feel the warm gush.

Dazed and motionless but still deep inside Quinn, Santana could feel Quinn's early spasms contracting against her dick and began a slow short rhythmic stroking that soon became full length plunges of her still aroused flesh.

She touched her.

Santana touched Quinn with love, gentleness and carefully. Her fingers and palms embraced every inch of soft skin with softness. It was utter perfection.

Quinn began to heave and writhe, naked skin against naked skin. Santana increased the pace, but still slow because this was still Quinn's first time. Each thrust brought a corresponding reply when suddenly Quinn reached around Santana, pulling her against her even more, and began gyrating and grinding herself into her.

Quinn whimpered and convulsed into a chain of explosions. The sensual waves continued as Quinn was seized by great shuddering clenching spasms that squeezed Santana's shaft, with her name in her mouth. And what was best, was that they kept kissing each other, those type of kisses that spoke words.And as they kept kissing, still exploring each other's body with such sweetness; Santana couldn't help but think that she was completely in love with Quinn.

She felt her lungs inflate with the onrush of scenery. Air, mountains, people. Nothing was impossible in that moment.

For the first time in her life, Santana felt complete and happy. And judging by Quinn's smile, it looked like she was happy, too.

Santana blinked twice. And then again.

Blonde hair was a little shorter than what she remembered, but her flawless figure remained the same. And her face; her so perfect and gorgeous face only became more beautiful with time.

The sight was breathtaking. But her eyes however, were different.

The eyes are one of the most powerful tools a woman can have. And she remembered well how with just one look, Quinn would always relay the most intimate message. After the connection was made, words cease to exist for her. The soul fortunately, has an interpreter, often an unconscious but still a faithful interpreter: eyes.

Quinn's eyes carried a heavy weight behind the shock in her face.

Santana couldn't move, she couldn't even breathe. After two years, after long, endless and exhausting two years, she was finally seeing her love.

Her chest ached with excitement and nervousness. She was intrigued though, by the smile upon Quinn's gorgeous face and the sadness within her eyes. It didn't match. Santana wanted to look away, or never look away again, she couldn't decide.

Then, just like Rachel did, she ran.

She simply ran.

Quinn ran towards her with tears falling down her cheeks and when she was right in front of her, she hugged her. She hugged Santana with such force and passion that they fell onto the couch that was right next to them, Quinn falling into her lap. The empty glass that was in Santana's hand not so long ago was now on the floor.

And then, after the initial surprise and amazement, for instinct, Santana closed her eyes, inhaling deeply Quinn's fragrance and burying her face into her soft and silky hair as her arms finally wrapped around her back.

She could hear Quinn's heartbreaking sobs, could feel the wetness of her tears on her neck, wetting her skin while her arms were firmly around her neck, tightly, obstructing her breathing.

In those two years that she was alone she had often underestimated the power of a touch or even the smallest act of caring, all of which have the potential to turn a life around. But now, with the love of her life hugging her as if her life depended on it, hugging her like no one else in the world matters after so, so long was like coming back home.

There's a primal reassurance in being touched, in knowing that someone else, someone close to you, wants to be touching you. There is a bone-deep security that goes with the brush of a human hand, a silent affirmation that someone is near, that someone cares. Quinn was glued onto her, with her face buried into her neck and her arms tight around her neck. It seemed like she care. It seemed like she still care.

After minutes, long but marvelous minutes. Gently, Quinn lifted her head and met Santana's eyes with her own, connecting their gazes after twenty-four months of being apart.

Hazel eyes were speaking volumes. They were bright, stunned with surprise and with something else. Something that Santana was afraid to acknowledge it. But she didn't have time for that either, because the next thing that she felt after that intense gaze, were Quinn's soft lips on hers.

Her eyes fluttered shut as Quinn's mouth came down on hers. And that was it. All the self-control she'd exerted over the past few days was forgotten. Her arms came down around Quinn's lower back as she pulled Quinn against her. Quinn's arms only tightened around her.

They kissed fiercely yet slowly. Santana clung to her tightly, knotting her arms around her waist, trying to tell her, with the press of her mouth on hers, how much she still loves her. Despite everything.

It wasn't that long, and it certainly wasn't the kind of kiss everyone sees in movies these days, but it was wonderful in its own way, it was life. And all that Santana could feel when their lips touched was love. Love and memories. It was the kind of kiss that inspires stars to climb into the sky and light up the world. She was in heaven.

"Am I dreaming?" Quinn whispered with despair against her lips before kissing her again. She kissed her nonstop, she gave Santana endless of pecks; pressing her mouth tight against her lips as if to make sure that this was really happening.

Quinn shifted on her lap while her lips were still on her mouth and her butt fell in between Santana's legs. She only hugged her more, trying to live in this moment. But then Quinn pulled away, her hands around Santana's neck caressed their way up until she reached her cheeks. She gazed into brown eyes lovingly.

It was just Quinn and Santana, in that moment, it was Quinn and Santana and their so awaited reunion.

Quinn licked her lips before pressing them together as though she were keeping Santana's kisses inside her, the minute was as fragile as a bird in their hands.

They were still so close that Santana could smell Quinn's mint breathe. Her eyelids closed with the tender and so gentle touch of her love on her skin. The touch she dreamed about day and night when she was away.

"God, it was true." Quinn's happy and still surprised voice continued. It made Santana open her eyes. She opened her eyes just to close them again when she felt Quinn's lips on her once more. "I didn't want to believe Rachel when she told me."

"I promised you I was coming back, didn't I?" Santana affirmed as a matter of fact. As if the idea of her coming back was predisposed since the beginning.

Quinn grinned and giggled, and it was like a sweet symphony in her ears. Her gorgeous eyes were still wet with tears but now, the apparently emptiness that Santana saw in them moments ago was gone.

She excitedly wrapped her body in her arms again and Santana's heart smiled.

Out of consciousness, feeling wounded and resentful. Santana thought that she would not tolerate seeing Quinn again, she thought she would feel regretful and sad, almost wanting to forget about them altogether. But boy, was she wrong.

She thought that she was going to kiss Quinn, and she was going to regret it. But in that moment she couldn't bring herself to care. And as Quinn kissed her yet again, she still didn't care.

She didn't know how long they stood there kissing because just like before, the world around them disappeared. Time had stopped. She was awash in the feel of Quinn's body against hers, in the taste of her lips. That was all that mattered.

Quinn's nails dug into the back of her neck, and Santana trailed her lips down the edge of her chin, down the center of her neck and she kept going until she reached the bottom of the dress's V-neck. Quinn let out a small gasp, and Santana kissed all around the neckline.

Quinn was just like a drug. An irresistible drug because she couldn't stop now.

Quinn shifted over her again. Her hands moved to Santana's breasts and Santana noticed that she wasn't the only one breathing heavily and wanting more.

Those minutes were all heat and electricity, thick with tension and love that was only one spark away from exploding around them.

Santana was balancing on another precipice here, which wasn't easy at all. But she still put her arms around Quinn and this time, she was the one who drew her closer.

"I missed you so much." Quinn confessed breathless before claiming her lips again as though they were a vehicle of some vague speech and between them, she felt a timid pressure on her stomach, darker than the swoon of sin, softer than a sound. Without breaking the kiss Quinn's hand subtly traveled down her stomach until she undid the button of her jeans.

That was it.

That was the reply she was waiting for.

Santana stood up with Quinn's legs wrapped around her waist before walking towards her room.

It was time. She felt it, she knew it.


Every gesture, every caress, every touch, every glance had its secret. To have Quinn here in bed with her, breathing on her, her soft hair in her fingers —They touched each other's bodies without the past or the future, demanding that complete happiness through full fusion. Naturally it became all that Santana was waiting for.

She looked at her, cheeks flushed and golden hair tousled, eyes tired but blissful. Quinn was so beautiful that it made Santana's soul ache.

Everything was exactly how she remembered it, but it could not be otherwise. Touching Quinn was always important to her. It was something she lived for. She never could explain why though. Her fingers against her shoulder, the outsides of their thighs touching as they watched TV. She couldn't explain it, but she needed it, she needed the constant contact.

Santana always wished desperately that she could paint the beautiful blonde in these moments and immortalize that look of happiness in her eyes. There was a softness in them, a total and complete vulnerability. The completely opposite of what she saw in those eyes earlier.

Santana never knew that just a couple of hours could be expanded into something timeless. It shook Santana to her core, there were no words. They made love and Quinn kissed every small scar of her body making any type of pain easily go away. And every time they whimpered each other's name, Santana would cried internally out of joy and fondness.

But now, now it was out of despair.

She watched how Quinn from under her weight, reached for her cheek to touch her again, a pleasant smile still on her face.

Santana didn't know how she didn't see it before, how she didn't feel it.

Time was up.

Her fairy tale was over. She was more sober than drunk now and with soberness came reality.

She slowly grabbed Quinn's hand on her own and glanced down at the ring on Quinn's finger.

She knew it, she knew that Quinn was married now, but she hadn't thought about it while kissing her, she didn't feel the ring against her skin when Quinn touched her. She had forgotten that this gorgeous girl beneath her, was not her Quinn anymore.

And once realization hit her beautiful love, she found her voice again.

"Santana," Quinn murmured frightened.

But Santana just stood up from bed, ignoring Quinn's voice and the ache in her heart before collecting her clothes. She was dressed in a matter of seconds and she tossed Quinn's dress at her without a second glance.

"You need to leave."

"No, please let me explain this. It's not what you're thinking I promise." Quinn tried hopeless. She covered her nakedness with Santana's sheets and she looked so, so vulnerable and small that Santana had to fight back the urge to climb back onto the bed and wrap her in her arms.

But she didn't, instead, she just watched her with disappointment.

Wounds caused in unfair battles were nothing now. There are wounds that never show on the body that are deeper and more hurtful than anything that bleeds. People always talk about how great love is, but that's bullshit. Love hurts. Feelings are disturbing. And Santana was just now recognizing the tragic fact that Quinn did not belong to her anymore. She was not her Quinn.

Maybe she never was.

"You're misunderstanding things," Quinn looked at her face with despair, and by the look in those eyes, it felt as if she'd never not known Santana's brown hair before, those chocolate eyes, those lips, that jaw. But maybe it was just because of their long history. Quinn looked as if she were searching for something to say, something that could get them back to where they were just seconds ago. But all that came was, "I need to tell you something."

Something?

Something is a really big ass word. It could mean everything or nothing at all.

Nonetheless, Santana couldn't take her presence anymore, it might even sound dumb after what just happened between them, but Quinn really needed to leave because Santana could only last a little bit more before break down completely.

Her soul was lost. It was enough emotion and pain for one night already, a little more of that and she was sure she would explode.

She quickly shook her head looking straight into hazel eyes.

"I can't even tell you how many times I wish I was dead while I was away Quinn. Most of the time to be honest, and I feel that way now."

"Santana, I-"

Santana quickly lifted her hand to stop whatever the hell Quinn was going to say. She didn't want to hear it, she didn't think she could.

"You don't have any idea for what I went through, and now this?"

Santana chuckled humorless with her eyes burning into Quinn's.

Santana wanted to just relieve some of the pressure from the inside that was true pain. Because no matter how hard she tried or how bad she wanted to, she couldn't change how things were now. And the pain just stayed in place.

It was just a small tear that was wetting her cheek, but it was the heaviest thing in the world. And it didn't do a damn thing to fix anything.

Quinn watched her from bed for awhile, her own eyes watery with a small and adorable pout on her lips.

"Santana," She whispered without intention, and Santana made a pause, she made a pause just to watch the beauty in front of her for a while. Even with a few tears clouding her gorgeous hazel eyes, she still managed to be the prettiest girl alive.

Santana still wanted to kiss every soft place of her, make her blush and faint, pleasure her until she weep and dry every tear. If Quinn only knew how she crave the taste of her already, but she needed to remind herself once again, that this was not her girlfriend anymore. She wasn't the same girl she left behind two years ago.

She was married now.

She had a daughter.

Santana took a step closer, almost frozen by Quinn's tears and sad expression, her heart pounding.

"Santana please-"

"No, I think I had enough of everything tonight, so before say something, please just, don't fucking say anything, because I just found out six days ago that nothing was like I thought. You're married. And with a daughter." Santana begged, she pathetically begged as a sigh out of frustration let out her mouth because no matter what, she couldn't do or attempt to do anything to change the situation. "Please just go."

That ring was already on Quinn's finger. Quinn's baby wasn't her baby and she wasn't the one who married her. The story was written and there was nothing she could do.

Sometimes life just like to screw you up.

Quinn swallowed and sniffed, gazing up at her with what Santana hoped was love, but with all the warm tears on those eyes she couldn't see with clarity this time. Then she finally nodded, she nodded and stood up quickly putting her clothes back on.

That emptiness and sadness was back on Quinn, she could sense it. She seemed offended and sad but once she was ready to go, she still kissed Santana's cheek leaving a tingle in her stomach.

"I'll be here tomorrow." Quinn whispered weakly. And with one more glance she finally started to walk away.

It was just when Santana heard the door closed that she let herself cry. She cried so much that she even felt as though she would bleed to death with the ache in her chest.

It was funny how the memories that Santana used to cherish become her worst enemies. The thoughts that Santana loved to think about, the memories she wanted to hold up to the light and view from every angle; suddenly seems a lot safer to lock them in a box, far from the light of day and throw away the key.

After those delightsome hours they just had together. Every memory of them ran back to her burying in her heart like a knife, nothing felt right again.

She quickly walked back to the living room with the need of emptying that bottle of alcohol and shut all her thoughts.

It was what she needed.


The bottle of whiskey was completely empty but next to her, was a bottle of wine now.

After putting herself another glass, she dried out her eyes and forcefully grabbed her phone that was still lying lifeless over the coffee table in front of her and turned it on.

She didn't even know if after two years of not functioning the device would still be working.

But it was working.

And she was surprised to see over 800 messages.

It was weird and strange.

With curiosity and an angry frown on her face, she opened the messages to see why the hell the number was so excessive. And all of them, every single message there was from Quinn.

Just three heavy words that used to get all the air out of her.

The dates however, was what really astonished her, because apparently Quinn sent her every night a message even after her supposedly death.

The last one was received yesterday at 10:36 PM.

Santana wasted at least two hours on reading every text, as if in one of them she would find some other words. But every message started and ended the same.

I love you