A/N: Thanks for the support, guys :) This will be the last chapter and I'll include a short epilogue thereafter :)
Enjoy!
Onward and up!
-H
Disclaimer: I do not own Glee
2015
Brittany was breathless. And in the best way possible. Santana was kissing her. Santana was kissing her. In public. And it wasn't a shy peck on the cheek either. It was the kind of passionate kiss that they'd only ever shared in the privacy of their rooms and on that one magical night a year and a half ago.
Somehow, their hands had disentangled from each other and started gripping clothing. Brittany had Santana's jacket fisted in her right hand whilst her left hand was comfortably buried in dark locks, anchoring the Latina's lips to hers.
Santana's right hand remained on Brittany's neck, whilst her left hand was inside the blonde's jacket, her fingers softly trailing up and down the side of Brittany's shirt. It was enough for the blonde to shiver every few seconds.
She didn't know how long they'd been kissing for and she didn't care. She just didn't want to let go.
The need for oxygen forced their lips apart. Santana rested her forehead against Brittany's and breathed heavily.
"That was about eight years overdue," she whispered. "Britt, I am so sorry."
She just nodded. Brushing off Santana's apologies would simply set them back. She had been wrong. She had treated Brittany like shit and pretending that she hadn't would just throw them fifteen steps backwards.
She swallowed as the blood pumping from her heart started to slow down.
"This was amazing, Santana, really. I can't even express to you how much it means to me."
"But…?"
She sighed. "But we've got a long way to go before we're ready for a relationship again."
Santana nodded in understanding. "Of course, Britt. Whatever you need. I get it. You need to see how comfortable I am with myself and whether we can realistically have a long-term relationship."
Brittany's curiosity was spiked. "Is that what you want?" she asked before she could stop herself.
Santana simply smiled. "Brittany, I want everything with you. And I want it with only you. When I think about my future, you're there, in every frame."
She held her breath. As amazing as those words had been on paper, to hear Santana speak them out loud was just…breathtaking. She was floored and felt her love simply grow.
"I love you."
Santana kissed her cheek softly. "And I love you. So, so very much, Britt. I wish it hadn't taken me so long to realise that you are worth everything."
"It was necessary."
Santana nodded against her cheek. "Yeah."
"I should go," Brittany said eventually with a heavy sigh. She didn't want to. She wanted to stay wrapped up in Santana forever.
"Could I get your number?" Santana asked shyly, averting Brittany's gaze.
She blinked. There stood two women completely in love with each other and they didn't even have each other's phone numbers. Their courtship had definitely been…interesting. It occurred to Brittany that Santana could easily have gotten her number from anyone at her office, and the fact that she hadn't simply increased the respect that she had for the journey Santana had undergone.
Brittany pulled her phone out and handed it to the Latina. She punched in her number and quickly called it so that she had Brittany's number.
"We're gonna do this right," Santana whispered, slipping her arms around Brittany's neck again. "I'm going to make you trust me. I want you to see that I'm serious."
She just nodded. "We need to take this slow. A lot has happened in three years, San."
"I know. Even if we continue writing to each other as opposed to seeing each other, I'll do that."
"You don't wanna see me?" Brittany asked in alarm.
"No, of course I do!" Santana exclaimed with a surprised smile. "More than anything. I want to spend every second with you. But I also don't want to rush this." She brushed her cheek against Brittany's affectionately. "We have our whole lives ahead of us. So if it takes us a while, then I'm cool with that."
She couldn't help the grin that spread across her face so she buried it in the crook of Santana's neck. The Latina was saying all the right things. A small part of Brittany wondered how genuine she was, if she maybe hadn't lifted them from some cheesy Hallmark card or a shitty romcom.
But then she started whispering in Spanish in Brittany's ear and her knees started to feel like jelly. Santana speaking Spanish was like liquid sex to the blonde. She loved it.
"Not fair," she mumbled.
She felt Santana giggle softly. "I only told you to have a great New Years and that next year we'll be spending all night and day together."
The grin was back and Brittany wrapped her arms tighter around Santana, burying her face deeper into her neck. She was overwhelmed with the scent of Santana and it felt like home.
She rolled her eyes at Quinn sitting nervously on the couch when she let herself in a little after one.
"Hi!" her best friend squeaked.
She just laughed.
"So, it went well? I mean, it looked like it was. Going well, I mean. You know, from what I saw. N-not that I was spying or anything cos ew, gross. I wasn't like stalking-"
"Quinn, shut up."
Her best friend clamped her mouth closed.
"It was amazing. And very worth the risk."
Quinn grinned widely and Brittany matched it before walking into her bedroom. She got dressed and climbed into her bed, holding her Argentine bird close to her. Her eyes fluttered closed, but flew open at the sound of her phone vibrating on the table next to her bed.
I'm counting this as Day 1. It's the first day of a journey that I am so looking forward to taking with you, Brittany. I love you. Sweet dreams. Love, Santana.
She grinned again. She wondered if it was always going to be like this from now on. Would she have a perpetual grin on her face because the love of her life was being super romantic and loving all the time? She didn't actually care, really.
Her phone buzzed again.
Sorry, forgot my first 2015 reason. Your smell is as intoxicating as ever. I could live off smelling you. And yes, I do realise how creepy that sounded. But it's the truth ;) San xxx
Screw it. The grins were welcome.
They slipped into an easy routine pretty quickly. True to their word of taking things slow, they met once a week, never on a Friday or Saturday because having work the next day was always a deterrent to them getting carried away.
Brittany was on cloud nine. Santana was courting her like in those really old movies she'd watched with her grandmother that summer before high school. They split the bill whenever they went out to dinner because Brittany was adamant that she didn't need charity and Santana respected that without complaint. After being so independent for three years, she didn't want to lapse back into her Santana co-dependency.
The best part? Santana's letters continued. They'd become weekly letters as opposed to daily ones because they texted and IM'd all the time. But that perpetual grin on Brittany's face always widened when she saw the now familiar white envelope awaiting her on the kitchen counter every Monday when she got home from work.
Santana had only stopped by Brittany's offices twice since New Years and the blonde was partially glad for it. The Latina was nothing but a distraction now that they were sort of together again. Her co-workers noticed the remarkable change in her demeanour and pressed her about it, but she kept quiet. She felt like her and Santana were a well-kept secret and that if she publicised them too much that it would simply bring bad luck. And she definitely didn't need any bad luck when everything seemed to finally be clicking into place.
She didn't really expect much when Valentine's Day rolled around. She honestly felt that it was simply retailers' way of milking money out of the gullible masses. She believed that you shouldn't need a contrived holiday to show your partner how much they meant to you. She and Santana had rediscovered their love months away from February fourteenth.
When she arrived at her office and saw her desk covered in lilacs, she still grinned. Clearly Santana had a different opinion about Valentine's Day. As she took in the delicious scent of her favourite flower, she decided that maybe Valentine's Day wasn't that bad.
The third anniversary of their break up gave Brittany mixed feelings. She and Santana were doing great. Really great, actually. But she couldn't help being reminded of that agonising day. Yeah, they'd come pretty much full circle since then, but she couldn't forget the hurt, the abandonment she'd felt.
Santana could tell something was off and if she realised why, she didn't say. Instead, she rocked up at Brittany's door armed with a shy smile and dinner. Quinn immediately made herself scarce and Brittany was thankful that her best friend was being so supportive when she's kept Santana's letters hidden from her for over a month. Talk about a change in tune…
"Do you want a massage?" Santana asked as she stirred the sauce she was making.
"Huh?"
The Latina smiled. "A massage. You're tense."
"No, I'm not." She didn't know why she'd just lied. Santana's pointed look told her that she'd been caught out anyway. She ducked her head shamefully.
"You're hunching your shoulders," Santana argued. "Your posture has always been so graceful and strong."
Brittany just shrugged. What the hell did she say to that?
The silence between them was comfortable, but there was definitely something unknown hanging over them. Brittany knew that Santana had picked up on it and was simply waiting for them to have dinner before bringing it up. She was grateful that the Latina knew her so well…sometimes.
Sure enough, once Santana had deposited the empty plates in the dishwasher and they'd settled onto the couch to finish their wine, her dark eyes found Brittany's and held them.
"Are you still scared?"
Brittany lifted a shoulder nonchalantly. She didn't really know why she was suddenly feeling so apprehensive. Was it because things were going so well and she was afraid she'd wake up and find it had all been a dream? That Santana didn't love her and come over and make her dinner and send her huge bouquets of flowers and write beautiful letters?
"Britt." Santana leaned across the space between them and took her hand, simply holding it. "I'm not going anywhere. I'm here and this is real. I know that you dreamed of this, of me accepting me, us, for so long. I don't blame you for second guessing yourself."
Brittany frowned. "But it's silly."
"No," Santana replied thoughtfully. "It's normal. Especially considering how I treated you."
The blonde sighed and the silence resumed.
"I haven't…have I given you a reason to be scared?" Santana asked quietly.
Brittany's heart constricted. She didn't want Santana to be sad.
"No, you've been so wonderful," she whispered, turning her hand over so that their fingers linked. "So wonderful."
"Do you…do you want to slow down?"
Brittany shook her head. "If we go any slower, we'd be moving backwards." Neither of them laughed at her poor joke.
She hated this. Santana had done such a lovely thing. Why couldn't these stupid insecurities just fuck off? She loved her. God, she loved her so much. Every moment with Santana was amazing, every word she wrote Brittany whether it was on paper, via text or IM set her heart racing. This was what she'd dreamed of for years, especially over the last few months. So why the fuck was she acting so chickenshit now?
"Britt," Santana said softly.
Their eyes met again and Brittany sighed, shaking her head slightly.
"It's me this time. You've done everything I ever asked you to do. But now I'm the one that's scared. But I don't know why! It doesn't make sense!"
The silence was now incredible awkward.
"Maybe we do need to dial it back," Santana suggested after a while. "Maybe this is moving too quickly for you?"
"What?"
"Britt, I'm not breaking up with you or anything, I promise. God, no, I could never let you go." Santana shook her head for emphasis. "But I am willing to give you more space. I can stop with the texts and IMs. We don't have to go on dates. I can wait until you're ready."
She opened her mouth but nothing came out. Why couldn't she speak? Say no, dammit! Tell her that you don't want her to go anywhere!
But she couldn't.
Santana nodded and the hurt that she tried to mask almost killed Brittany, yet her stupid brain still wouldn't act. The Latina gently let go of Brittany's hand and stood up, leaving her half-full wine glass on the table. The blonde simply sat, hating her body and her mind for being so unresponsive. She felt catatonic and out of control and she couldn't stand it.
"Let me know, ok, Britt?" Santana said from behind her.
Somehow, her brain told her head to nod. Tears started streaming down her cheeks uncontrollably as she felt Santana's lips against her neck.
"I love you."
And then she was gone.
And this time, it was all Brittany's fault.
Quinn found her on her bed, sobbing. She couldn't get her to say anything though, so she simply held her best friend close, wondering what on earth could have happened to send Brittany into an exact replica of herself three years before – to the day.
The rest of the week was very quiet. Brittany didn't say anything other than a mumbled good morning or good night. Her phone didn't chime every twenty minutes like it had for the last three months.
Brittany was really, really scared that, come Monday, there wouldn't be a white envelope waiting for her when she came home from work. It terrified her. If there wasn't, she was almost certain that Santana had probably realised that she wasn't worth the trouble. After all she had demanded of the Latina, what had she done? Gone and thrown all her hard work back in her face.
She hated herself.
She paused, her key in the lock. She stared at her front door for a good few minutes before it opened for her. Quinn looked at her with a curious frown. Brittany couldn't stop her eyes flickering to the counter and her heart soared. The familiar white envelope lay, enticing her.
She flew across the room, leaving her best friend even more bewildered and grabbed the letter. Normally she read Santana's letters in her bedroom, but her heart was pulsating harder than she'd ever felt it before. She forced her body to calm itself as she pulled the letter out of the envelope.
Brittany, my love,
No matter what, I will never leave you. I realise that you're going through a personal crisis and it kills me that I know I can't help you with it. I know that this is something you need to do yourself. I wish that I could be there for you, though. I wish that so much.
I made the biggest mistake of my life that day. I didn't run after you. I didn't stop you. I think it was because I knew that I deserved it. Everything you told me was completely true. I was the one that was scared then.
And now you're scared. And that's fine. Brittany, please believe that I will wait for you forever. FOREVER. Even if it's in another three years, ten years, twenty years, I don't care. You know how I feel. Just try and remember that when those seeds of doubt start planting themselves in your mind, ok? I know that my track record doesn't count in my favour, but I made you a promise. And out of all the promises I have made you (and broken) and all the promises I will make you in the future, this is one that I will honestly die to keep.
I promised that I will love you forever. And I intend to do just that.
I miss you, Britt. I miss you more than I thought I could. Our constant communication made me realise how much I need you in my life, even if I'm not with you physically. I need to be connected to you. I mean, I will always be connected to you, but I need that feeling, you know?
Ugh. That probably made no sense. But since that very first letter I sent you, I haven't written more than one draft. You deserve my original thoughts without a filter or revision.
Reason #146: Only you know who I really am.
All my love,
Santana
She was stupid. Probably the stupidest person on the planet ever. The love of her life constantly confessed her undying love and devotion to her and showered her with affection and adoration, yet those stupid seeds of doubt wouldn't leave her alone.
There was something wrong with her.
She finally took some of her leave days to head back to Lima for her mother's fiftieth birthday. Mrs. Pierce could tell straight away that something was up.
"Come on, Bumblebee. I need help figuring out my presents."
She pulled her inside the house and they wandered into the kitchen. Brittany sat on the counter like she had during their last heart-to-heart.
"I thought things were going well?" Mrs. Pierce began gently.
"They were." A tear rolled down her cheek. "They were going so well. And then my stupid insecurities went and screwed everything up."
"What are you scared of?"
"I don't know!" she cried in desperation. "I wish I fucking knew."
Her mother let the profanity slide.
"Ignore it," she said instead.
"What?"
"Ignore your stupid insecurities, as you call them. You know she loves you and you love her. You two are meant to be."
Brittany focused on the marble tabletop.
"I know you said that you were taking things slowly, but maybe you were taking things too slowly and that's how those insecurities crept in," Mrs. Pierce suggested.
"Mom, I can't exactly go back to LA and just jump back into bed with her. It…that's not how we are now." She sighed. "I'm not even sure what we even are now."
"You're soul mates," Mrs. Pierce said simply. "You can't live without each other so why torture yourself by trying to?"
"You think we should move into together?" she asked in alarm.
Her mother rolled her eyes. "No. I mean that you shouldn't be scared to take the plunge with her. From what you told me about New Years, it was magical. But then you kind of pushed that magic away and tried to slow down when maybe you needed to just let things happen."
"Mom, you're confusing me."
Mrs. Pierce paused, gathering her thoughts. "Bumblebee, not everything in life needs to be controlled. Especially love. Love should be spontaneous, joyful, impulsive, unexpected. It sounds like you were trying to control the pace at which you two fell in love again."
"I…hmmm…"
Mrs. Pierce left her daughter to stew and went back outside to her party.
She let the fear talk her out of calling or texting Santana for two weeks after she got back to LA. Two whole weeks. Brittany was on the verge of driving herself crazy.
She started extending her hours at the office again. Santana's letters were still as beautiful and loving as ever and it only made Brittany feel worse about herself.
Almost a full two months of not seeing Santana came around and Quinn was about to shake Brittany out of the depression she'd slumped into. Nothing would shake her. She'd sit in her room every night, rereading the massive pile of letters over and over again.
She was torturing herself. She didn't know why, but at the same time she did.
Jesus, she really was fucked up.
June had just started and Brittany was stumbling home after a sixteen-hour day. She was exhausted and she simply felt the urge to curl up with her bird and cry until she fell asleep. Some days the emotions crept up on her and she couldn't control them. She hated those days, but also appreciated them because they showed her that she wasn't a completely heartless bitch. She still had a semblance of feelings.
The apartment was dark. Quinn had probably stayed late at work too or was already in bed. She dropped her purse on the floor next to her bedroom door and flopped onto her bed face down. Her hand reached up for her bird, but she felt something she definitely didn't expect.
The shape of a body. A body that was slowly stirring.
Brittany jumped up and fumbled against the wall for the light switch. The room was illuminated and her eyes went wide.
"What are you doing here?"
Santana's sleepy eyes blinked quickly to adjust. "I miss you, Brittany. I don't want to be away from you anymore." She sighed and sat up, the sheets bunching around her legs. "Whatever is going on in that head of yours, I want to help you through it. I've been thinking a lot over the last few months and I realised that if you're scared, maybe you need me to help you get over that fear. I don't know if you're scared of me or of us, but it's not something you should go through alone." Her eyes lifted to meet Brittany's. "I need you," she whispered.
She swallowed. Santana was here. She was in her bed. Her bed. She'd waited for her and now she was fighting an unknown demon to stay with her.
Brittany hardly needed anymore reason to make her see what an idiot she'd been. She dived onto the bed, scrambling up to Santana so fast that the Latina jumped in fright.
Brittany gripped her cheeks and crashed their lips together.
"You're right," she mumbled between fervent, desperate kisses. "You're right, San. I've been so silly. All I need is you. It's all I've ever needed. You make everything ok."
Santana's arms went around her waist, pulling their bodies flush with each other and deepened their kisses. Languid tongues stroked their mouths and stifled moans echoed around the room.
"I love you," Brittany said, breaking away and staring into Santana's eyes. "I love you and fuck any insecurities or fears. We're meant to be together and we can deal with anything that comes our way. Together."
Santana nodded. "Together," she echoed.
Their lips met again and Brittany shrugged out of her jacket.
"I want you," Santana breathed.
Brittany nipped her neck. "Make love to me, Santana."
She awoke first the next morning and had never been more thankful that it was a Saturday. She rolled onto her side and propped herself up on her elbow so that she could unabashedly stare at her lover as she still slumbered deeply.
Her eyes roamed over every expanse of naked skin that wasn't covered by the thin sheet they'd haphazardly thrown over themselves in the early hours of the morning after much tender and passionate lovemaking. In retrospect, she wasn't sure how she'd managed to not have sex with Santana till now.
The Latina was lying on her stomach, her dark hair draped across the pillow and her back. Her breathing was deep and even and Brittany's own breath caught in her throat as she realised that this was what she wanted – no, needed. She needed to be with Santana in every sense of the word. Looking at her, deeply asleep, she felt no fear, no insecurities. She knew without a shadow of a doubt that this was what she wanted.
She wanted everything with Santana. And she was ready for it.
Santana surprised her on her birthday with a picnic on the beach. It was a perfect day. They fed each other and stole kisses. Most of the time they just smiled at each other in utter contentment.
More than ever, she knew that she'd made the right choice. She was happy, so happy. She had no more worries. Santana never gave her any reason to doubt anything. They spent almost every night together, staying at either of their apartments. Lately, it had become Santana's more because Quinn had complained that they always woke her up with their 'loud, animalistic sex noises'.
Sex with Santana was still the best she'd ever had. And it was only better now because there was nothing to hold them back. Santana was completely invested in Brittany and their relationship and the blonde reciprocated enthusiastically.
"I have something for you," Santana said, pulling an envelope out of her bag.
"My birthday letter?" Brittany squealed, clapping her hands.
Santana smiled and lay back as Brittany's eyes devoured the letter.
My dearest Brittany,
Twenty-six glorious years on this earth and I am so fucking happy that I'm spending it with you. Crass? Perhaps. I sometimes find it difficult to be soft and loving and use nice words when the passion that you ignite in me is so great and burns so intensely that nice words just don't suffice to express myself properly.
These last few months have been a dream come true for me. I have loved every single second and I almost feel guilty because it feels like I'm the one who's getting a gift, even though it's your birthday. Almost ;)
I have a proposition for you, and I'll completely understand if you think it's too soon. But, like you said, we should give into the spontaneity and impulsive nature of our love so that fear doesn't have a chance to settle.
So, Brittany Pierce, would you move in with me?
All my love,
Santana
Brittany blinked and looked at her girlfriend in disbelief. The Latina looked nervous and chewed on her bottom lip.
"Yes!" she yelled, launching herself at Santana.
Santana's laugh warmed her insides and she held her tightly. This was perfect. They were perfect.
They'd come to the agreement that, instead of Brittany moving into Santana's apartment or vice versa, they'd look for a new apartment to move into together.
Both were doing exceptionally well at work, so they managed to find a very nice apartment in close proximity to their jobs relatively easily.
Quinn wasn't surprised, but she was a little sad that she'd be losing her roommate. Brittany promised they'd come visit all the time and that they'd even have a few sleepovers. They hugged and Santana rolled her eyes.
It took them a month to move everything because work was a little crazy. Mayweather were looking to buy out a smaller company so both Santana and Brittany were up to their elbows in paperwork in preparation.
The first week in October saw them spending their first evening together in their new apartment. Naturally, this led to sex on every available surface. Brittany called in sick the next day because she couldn't walk.
Quinn met a guy through her work and Brittany was very happy to see her best friend finally finding a sliver of the happiness she had with Santana. Unfortunately, the new boyfriend didn't take very well to Quinn's best friend being gay. That relationship had ended rather abruptly with Santana punching him. Neither Quinn nor Brittany reprimanded her for it, though.
They spent a quiet Thanksgiving dinner together with Quinn and had a sleepover, all three falling asleep in Quinn's king-sized bed.
Brittany woke up with a smile, snuggled against Santana's back and squeezed her best friend's hand before falling back to sleep.
Yup, things were pretty fucking perfect.
She was nervous. She stared at the letter in her hand and swallowed. She put it carefully on the coffee table and wiped her hands on her pants. She stood up and started pacing.
Quinn had helped her formulate the letter with much reluctance. After her history with Santana and Brittany's letter relationship, she was disinclined to get involved. Brittany had pulled out the super pout and her best friend had folded.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck," she muttered, walking from the kitchen counter to the couch and back.
"Everything ok, baby?"
She jumped and squeaked in surprise. She hadn't even heard the front door open.
Santana smiled at her.
"F-fine," she stammered.
"Sure?"
She nodded.
Santana's eyes drifted to the coffee table and her smile widened. "Is that my birthday letter?"
Brittany just nodded, not trusting her voice. The Latina bounded to the couch with very Brittany-like energy and pulled the blonde down with her, opening the letter carefully as she snuggled into her.
"Baby, your heart is racing," Santana murmured, pausing in her letter opening activity. It only made Brittany more nervous.
She indicated the letter with her eyes and Santana gave her a concerned look before conceding. Her eyes skimmed over the words and her smile widened.
"Yes! I love treasure hunts!" Santana said happily, jumping up and running into their bedroom.
Brittany stayed on the couch and watched her girlfriend roam from location to location in their apartment as she uncovered more clues. The penultimate clue was in the kitchen and she glanced up and winked at Brittany before skipping back to her.
"Apparently you have my next clue, Ms. Pierce?"
"Y-yeah. It's, uh, the last one."
"Ok."
Brittany pulled the small envelope from her left jacket pocket, keeping her other hand deep in the right one. She watched Santana carefully as she opened the envelope. The smile on her face slowly formed a small 'o' shape and her breathing intensified. Her eyes lifted to meet Brittany's and the blonde almost lost the nerve. Almost.
"Happy birthday, San," she said softly, pulling the box out of her right pocket and handing it to her girlfriend.
"Oh my God," she breathed. "Brittany, I…oh my God."
Shit. I made a mistake. She doesn't want this.
"Ask me?"
She blinked. Huh?
Santana licked her lips and a small smile crossed her face. "I want to hear you ask me," she said softly. "Please?"
Brittany swallowed and slipped off the couch and onto one knee in front of Santana. She lifted her gaze and met the eyes that she'd fallen in love with at sixteen. That was a good start, actually…
"Santana Lopez, I have been hopelessly and completely in love with you for ten years. Would you allow me the honour of continuing to do so for the rest of my life by becoming my wife?"
She opened the box and Santana gasped. Brittany wasn't sure if it was a good or a bad gasp. God, this was nerve-wracking. No wonder the guys always proposed.
"Fuck, Brittany, you amaze me every day," she whispered, tears spilling down her cheeks.
Brittany frowned in confusion. She still wasn't sure-
"Yes! Yes! Fucking yes! Of course I'll marry you!" Santana shouted happily, throwing her arms around the blonde and pulling her onto the couch and into a passionate, messy kiss.
After a while, she pulled away and held up the box. "Think I can put this on your finger now?"
Santana giggled and held up her left hand. Brittany took the ring out and tossed the box somewhere. The slight tremble in Santana's bottom lip meant she knew she'd be retrieving it soon.
She slipped the ring onto Santana's finger and kissed each finger, lingering on the ring finger that now adorned a seriously expensive piece of bling. Not that she cared. She'd buy the world for Santana.
"Hey, fiancée?" she whispered.
Santana grinned widely. "Yes, fiancée?"
"You wanna go have engagement sex?"
New Years Eve on the pier was colder than the last two years. She pulled her fiancée close to her and stared into her eyes with a big smile.
"A year ago, I told you that I would spend the whole night and following day with you," Santana said, her eyes shining with love. "I never thought we'd be engaged."
"Is that a problem?" she teased.
Santana pulled her down for a kiss. "Not in the slightest. It's even better than I could have ever imagined."
Brittany grinned and rested her forehead against Santana's, listening to the people around them counting down.
Fireworks exploded around them, but they were too lost in their anniversary kisses to care about anyone else.
Everything was fucking perfect.
A/N: So not much angst this chapter – but hey, you know my endgame is always Brittana and I love writing fluff almost as much as I love writing angst…
BUT for an amazing angst-filled story you guys HAVE to read Lover Dearest by privatephilosopher. Wow. I cried, I laughed, I cried some more…just so beautifully written. Have tissues ready. Consider yourselves warned ;)
Epilogue to follow :)
Would love to hear your thoughts.
-H