Chapter 13: Steadfast
Her quiet snores are barely audible with the chirp of crickets outside and the gentle hum of our ceiling fan. There's a stray piece of hair dancing in the path of every inhale and exhale, and I have to resist the urge to brush it away. It took far too long for her to fall asleep with the hum and excitement of the rehearsal dinner still lingering, keeping the threads of sleep too far out of our grasps until the early hours; waking her now would be a crime. I settle for cradling the hand she slipped into mine as her eyes started to droop and her excited murmurs drifted into hums. I'm not sure what pulled me from my sleep in the first place, but with the feeling of her ring against my skin and the thought of her walking down the aisle tomorrow, I doubt I will be falling back to sleep.
I'm pulled out of my thoughts by the buzz of my phone; the screen is too bright for four in the morning, but I smile.
How are you doing? Is San asleep?
Thank you for checking on us. She finally fell asleep about an hour and a half ago.
It's going to be perfect. Try to get some sleep, okay? We'll be there around ten o'clock.
Thank you for everything, Rach.
We love you, B.
I lean over to the nightstand and startle a little as I feel her fingers caressing mine.
"Hi," I murmur as I brush her sleep-messed hair from her face.
"Can't sleep?"
"Too excited."
"Mmhm," she agrees, and I kiss her knuckles as they brush against my cheek.
My breath catches in my throat as I feel the hand not caressing my cheek tangle in my shirt. She moves closer and brushes her lips against mine. It's soft, gentle. It's everything you could want in a four am kiss. It's the feeling of her fingers at the nape of my neck that finally lull me into sweet sleep.
The pinks and oranges of the sunrise start to seep through the curtains as conscious thought starts to seep through my being. It's the smell of coffee and the feeling of gentle scratches up and down my back that cut me from the last few threads of sleep.
San chuckles as I shift and bring her down to lay against my chest.
"Quinn's going to be stealing you away from me until tonight. I have to make the most of our time and get as many kisses as possible."
"Is that so?" Her voice is probably a little more flirty than intended. I'm not complaining.
"Mmhm," I hum, relishing in the way the muscles in her back shiver as my hands run over them.
"Who am I to deny you, then?" Her lips press against my forehead, lingering as if to take in all of emotions storming in the synapses that lay just beneath the skin she's kissing.
"What's going on in that pretty head?" She smiles as she feels my finger trace down the bridge of her nose, wrinkling it at the tickling sensation.
"We're getting married today," her whisper comes out strong and beautiful.
"We are," I giggle as I take her face between my hands, thumbs wiping the stray tears. A knock on the door brings us out of the moment, and I steady her as the sudden sound makes her jump.
"We have to go get pretty now," she whispers against my lips before getting up to let the girls in.
It's hard to watch her leave with Quinn for the rest of the day; call me clingy, I guess. It's difficult to part from the kiss she presses against my lips, but my heart thumps against my ribs at the realization that the next time I kiss her, it'll be as wife and wife.
"I'll see you soon, baby," I whisper against her lips as she takes my face between her hands.
"Enough kiss-face. Let's go get you guys married," Quinn huffs as she carries the totes out the front door.
I can feel the steady thump of my heart and the throb of my pulse as Rachel is gliding the zipper of my gown up. It's been steadily increasing since we arrived at the venue and I watched San disappear with her mom and Quinn.
The gentle tickle of the blush brush across my cheeks brings me out of my reverie. I don't process her words until she's resting her hand on my knee and sliding a chair to sit in front of me.
"What's going on in your head, B?" Rachel's question comes out so soft that I nearly jump. My mom is taming stray hairs, putting the finishing touches on my veil, when I ask her to check on San. We both watch the door click closed from the corner of our eyes.
My next words are shaky at best, "she deserves everything in this world."
"What makes you think that you don't?"
"I-," Rachel cuts me off gently, her hands gripping my shoulders now.
"You love her beautifully, and she loves you; that is all you need to know. You will grow together," her voice cracks but it makes me feel exponentially better.
"You're not going to tell me how she looks, are you?"
"Not a chance," Rachel laughs around the tears still stuck in her throat.
A gentle knock brings us out of the moment, the door opening just enough for Quinn's voice to be heard. My mind goes a little fuzzy in realization as she tells me to close my eyes. Rachel gasps as the door opens gently. I clench my eyelids together hard enough for it to hurt. Maybe if I hold tight enough to the tears starting to well up, they won't fall and give me away-
"Hi, baby," the rasp in her voice and the hands that have slipped into mine ground me, roots the thoughts of the life we're starting together further into my soul.
It feels strange, her lifting my hands to her face. The skin there is soft, and her lips threaten to quiver as I trace the apples of her cheeks. My breath catches in my throat as I allow my fingers to feel for me for the first time. The door clicks closed as my fingertips tickle her jawline and she sighs into my touch. Her pulse quickens at the intensity of our moment, practically vibrates beneath the bare skin of her collarbones. Mine quickens as her thumb soothes my cheek and she trails her fingertips against the curves of my neck; her palm comes to rest against my heart, "Hi, San."
My breath shutters as her fingertips, so sensitive and attentive and confident, feel like feathers down the lace flowers sitting so perfectly upon my shoulders. The tears that threatened to fall when she first walked in are now dampening the creases of my nose, following the curves of my jaw.
"Please don't cry, Britt. You're so beautiful," I choke down a sob and giggle at her words
"I'm going to look at you now, San," she nods as her fingertips find the spine of buttons down the length of my back, goosebumps blooming in the wake of their path.
Tears blur my vision as my eyes peel open, watching her fingers as they trace the deep cut of fabric against my chest. The barely-there feel of her fingertips are the heaviest feeling I've ever felt, and I never want it to end. I gasp at the way lace flowers adorn her shoulders; at the way they sparkle in the light. She giggles at the way the very tip of my finger finds the skin underneath and lingers there. I feel the heat of a blush spreading down from my ears to the expanse of skin and lace.
"You feel so beautiful," she whispers just as softly as her fingers graze the heavy lace at the flare of my hips.
"I don't think I would have been able to breathe at the altar, seeing you in this dress. I can barely breathe now," I murmur as I take in the strip of skin showing through sheer, lace flowers just below the deep valley of skin. The soft tumble of curls against the white of her gown bounce gently as she leans in to hide her face in the protective curtain of my hair.
Her voice is velvet against my ear, her breath tickling, "You're going to be my wife."
A gentle rap of knuckles against the door pulls us out of our cocoon, a smiling Quinn poking her face in.
"It's time," Quinn is giddy, hazel eyes knowing and shimmery.
Time stands still and moves all at once in the moments leading me to the altar. I'm sure my fingers are leaving impressions on my dad's arm, as I feel the warmth of his palm as he pats the top of my hand. Rachel is discreetly wiping a tear from the corner of her eye as she helps me into place. My mom is nodding, hands over her mouth, tears in her eyes, when I look over to her. I nod back at her and wink. Quinn isn't sure who to look at first, me or Rachel. There's so much love shimmering in her eyes and I'm sure it's going to overflow when San enters.
The pianist shifts to Santana's music as her dad appears in the doorway, his arm extended and waiting. And, just like that, in a whirl of white, with a bounce of dark locks and a smile I will never tire of kissing, there she is.
Suddenly, there's a mirage, glimpses of the life we're about to build, in place of the aisle. If I try hard enough, I can feel the way she'll feel in the early morning hours of our honeymoon, sweaty and sated. I can feel the way her ring will clink against mine as we sit at our usual café booth, watching the sunrise. I can smell the way she'll smell after a long day of work and the way those cherry blossom bubbles will take away the frustration and grime of that day. I can hear her voice harmonizing, unable to sleep, as the dusk meets the dawn. I can taste the way her lips will taste after pancakes and syrup on a lazy Sunday morning in bed.
Right now, though, the sight of her walking down the aisle is the one thing I never knew I needed. My chest is tight, and my cheeks are wet, and they hurt from the smile that I haven't been able to get rid of. And suddenly, through a teary, slow blink, there she is.
"Hi, baby," my whisper dances across her knuckles as Quinn fixes her train against the steps.
"Hi, beautiful."
My heart beats out of my chest as the officiant starts, "Today, we all have the privilege and the joy of joining Santana Marie and Brittany Susan in their journey. I could quote scripture or recite lines about what marriage is, but I feel as though Santana and Brittany can express those feelings with more precise emotion. With that said, Brittany would like to have this moment with Santana."
"San," my voice breaks and she squeezes my fingers, "You are as steady and present and needed as my own heartbeat. I fell in love with you gradually and all at once, and I have never stopped falling since. The way you command this world, the way you persevere, it's breathtaking. You remind me that there are so many ways to take this world in, and I want to take this world in with you forever. I love you more than anything else in this world. I think our forever started years ago, but now we get to have our forever as wives. My love for you comes in many forms, and I would like for you to have this tactile reminder," Rachel hands me the wedding band and San is shaking so hard that I lift her fingers to my lips before slipping her ring on.
"I love you, B," her words are shaky as I press kisses to her knuckles, "You came into my life with such beautiful elegance. You never questioned us, me. Your belief in me is staggering; sometimes I'm afraid that you don't believe in yourself as much as you believe in me. Today, and for forever, I will always remind you to love yourself the way you care for me: utterly and completely whole. You've held my hand so simply and easily that it feels like home. Everything with you feels like home," her breath hitches as Quinn guides my ring into her palm, "and this ring is a tactile reminder of the home we've built together."
My hand shakes as she slips my ring into place before lifting it to her lips. I can't hold back any longer as I cradle her cheeks between my palms. Her head tilts gently, her lips accepting mine with eagerness.
I vaguely hear the officiant laugh and our friends and family erupt in laughter, "Since you're already kissing, I pronounce you wife and wife!" San giggles at this and I press my lips against her forehead before we make our way down the aisle together.
The night is a blur of greetings, congratulations, and hugs. It's hard to focus on anything but the way she smiles as she dances with her dad. I clear the tears from my throat at the way she throws her head back in laughter as Rachel whispers in her ear, and at the was Quinn chastises Rachel for whatever she just whispered.
It's hard to focus on anything with the way her head, heavy and tired, rests against the curve of my neck as we sway slowly. Our guests have long since thinned out, last hugs and congratulations shared. It's hard to focus when my fingertips tickle the bare skin of her back. Her fingers are caressing my skin through the sheer material at the top of my spine, and she's humming the lyrics to whatever song is playing into my ear.
"Are you ready to head out, baby?"
I feel the smirk in her lips as they press against my ear, "I love you, wife."