Santana takes a deep, relaxed breath and lets it out, enjoying the smells and sounds of the ocean a few yards away, the warm breeze, the shade of her umbrella and the chill of the wine cooler in her hand. The crashing of waves lulls her into a sunbaked sort of half-stupor, and her limbs feel warm and heavy. She's completely content and tranquil, and she honestly wonders if her life can get any more perfect. She's pretty sure she's going to wake up at any moment and be back in Junior year, pining over a woman- the woman who's now her wife.
Her wife- she still can't believe it.
Beneath her dark, wide sunglasses, she lets her gaze travel a few yards away, where Brittany is aggressively involved in a fierce game of beach volleyball with a group of foreign guys. If this was Junior year, Santana would feel jealousy- but the glint of the sun on her wedding ring, warm and smooth on her left hand, reminds her that she doesn't need to feel that way anymore- and she hasn't for years. All she feels is secure, and she smiles as she traces her eyes over her wife's lithe form as she plays.
Brittany's smile is nearly blinding, overpowering the shine of the sun in Santana's opinion-
Santana rolls her eyes at herself. Really? I have to be that cheesy?
But as she continues to watch Brittany move, flawlessly sending the ball over the net and scoring a point for her team, Santana decides she doesn't care how cheesy she sounds. She's in love, and she's on her honeymoon with the woman she loves, and if anyone's entitled to be cheesy, it's her. She's earned it. She's been through a lot- they both have. But in the end, here they are- together. Married.
Perfect
Brittany's smile is infectious, and Santana finds herself smiling at how joyous Brittany is from just being involved in the game. Her smile belies the competitiveness Santana knows rests inside her; she can see the hard edge in Brittany's sparkling blue eyes and cheerful expression, can see the assertiveness behind her movements- and it's actually really hot
Santana traces her eyes down Brittany's body, her smile falling slightly as she takes in the incredibly sexy view. Sweat glistens on Brittany's sun-tanned skin, her shoulders dotted with dark freckles and a slight streak of red that fades to brown. Santana's mouth feels dry, but she can't help but admire the liquid power of Brittany's muscles, or the sinful way her abs ripple as she twists to reach the ball, or the power of her arms as she spikes it and sends it slamming into the sand on the other side of the net. Her long, toned legs remind Santana of the feeling of having them wrapped around her just last night, and she shivers, licking her lips. They hadn't stopped making love since they'd arrived at the secluded cottage on this private beach two days ago, but even still, Santana can't get enough of her beautiful wife.
She doesn't think she ever will.
A loud cry of victory goes up from Brittany, and Santana's grin returns as she watches her high-five the guys on her team enthusiastically. She can hear snatches of conversation in a language she doesn't really understand, but it doesn't bother her. The five men are staying in the cottage next to theirs, at least a half-mile down the beach, but it just so happens that the volleyball net is closer to their own cottage, and the guys had brokenly asked for their permission to use it earlier, even though they technically didn't have ownership over it. The five of them had been nice enough, and Santana hadn't felt particularly threatened by them-
A loud splash surprises her and her gaze follows her wife as she leaps into the water to cool off quickly. She watches Brittany splash around for a few moments before her mind wanders again. She kind of feels like she's floating on a cloud- a warm, beautiful cloud in a wonderful dream, where she has the woman she's always wanted, and she's peaceful and relaxed and so, so in love-
