AN: I am SO sorry for the long wait betwen updates. The whole Covid19 situation doesn't exactly help, as I am working more Hours and have to get up earlier. I can't promise any frequent updates now. There is simply not much time to spare. But I will always come back to finish my storie.

"Of course", I puff out, annoyed and frustrated with myself and because of the email I just read. Not just any email. No. It is the ninth rejection letter from a publishing company that I sent my book to seven weeks ago. That brings it down to nine out of ten. I begin to wonder if it was delusional, naive to just pick two hands full of publishers instead of sending my query letter out to all of them. But I wanted to start small and wait for some responses first. See what is out there. "Well, that worked great, Robbins." Carefully closing my laptop, even though I feel like slamming it shut, I push it towards the middle of the round glass table and grab the cup of coffee that I had made after waking up. I should not be too mad with an assistant publisher who does not even bother enough to take the time to spell my name right. Yet, here I am. Angry with the man who called me Miss Robbinson and angry with myself for getting my hopes up. Disappointment is a real awful way to start a day, let me tell you.

At the same time, I am glad that Callie does not have to see me like this, with my brows furrowed so much that a crease forms between them. She is – unsurprisingly – still asleep, after roughly fucking me into the mattress with the strap-on way past midnight. My body aches in various places, yes, but she did most of the workout. Therefore, I will let her sleep as long as she wants to.

Rising from my spot on the couch, I shake my legs out after sitting cross-legged for a while. My eyes catch the shimmer of gold coming through the windows and I cannot resist. Sliding the right door of the floor-to-ceiling balcony exit aside, I step out onto the dark wooden patio and let my gaze wander over the ocean as the horizon is hit with one of the most mesmerizing creations of nature – sunrise. I am one-hundred percent certain that Callie has taken me to paradise. Literally. The view on the ocean, as its shades turn from turquoise into a variety of blue, is captivating. The clear, cloudless morning sky – brighter than it would ever be in Boston – mirrored by the crystal clear water of the Atlantic Ocean seems to calm down my whole system. Surrounded by the sound of waking seagulls and the waves crashing into the shore, it feels so much more reviving than the hustle and bustle of the ever-hectic city. I could just live here and be happy until my very last day of life. I close my eyes for a moment and breathe it all in. It is calming. Relishing. The fresh air helps me clearing my head. What's nine rejections, right? A chilly morning breeze causes goosebumps to appear on my bare arms and legs – it is the kind of sensation that makes you question everything. Maybe your writing isn't as good as you thought it was? Maybe it's not your time yet? Maybe a love story about two girls isn't what the majority of people wants to read right now, despite the growing LGBT+ community.

"Or maybe you just don't give up so easily, Robbins", I mutter into the morning air. That's it though, isn't it? Don't give up. This is your dream, so you will keep trying. And if at first you don't succeed, you get up and try again. Just like your father has taught you.

"What are you doing up so early?", the brunette asks and I feel two arms encircle my torso, her voice tinted with fatigue. "I thought we were going to sleep in? After all, we were up kinda late."

I can hear the smirk that is displayed on her lips, followed by a stifled yawn. Putting the coffee cup down on the wooden railing, I cover her arms with my own. "Couldn't sleep anymore", I answer honestly. After waking up from my phone buzzing on the nightstand next to my head and reading first Teddy's message and then skimming over various emails, I stumbled upon the reason for my mood. "Teddy said everything is going great in Boston and I just... I guess I miss her? I am used to talking to her every day, but she has her new boyfriend and I have you and we both just don't have as much time anymore. On top of that, she is already binge-learning everything to get into her pre-med classes and I have... nothing to show? Law school wasn't my thing, even if it was the last profession on earth, I would not want to be a lawyer. And that's fine. There are plenty of other career choices out there, I know that. And I am really looking forward to my new classes, but at the same time, I feel like I should be further in life. Does that make sense?" I deliberately decide not to tell her about the other email. Mainly because Callie does not know that I started to send out some feelers.

Trying to comfort me, her embrace tightens before full lips softly press a kiss to my cheek. "It does and it doesn't." She spins me around in her arms to lift my chin with her finger and brushes blonde strands out of my face. Seeing her for the first time this morning, I cannot help but stare. Her hair is a disheveled mess of unruly waves, but those dark brown orbs I am so in love with reflect the sunrise behind me and I think my heart stops beating for a few seconds. "Arizona, you know that lives can't be planned like this. Some people achieve everything they think they wanted super fast and end up being unhappy and others listen to their hearts, even if that means taking detours and taking breaks every so often. There is nothing wrong with that. And don't forget that you've traveled to places most of the overachievers haven't even looked at online. I prefer you being happy over you pursuing a plan to make others happy."

I close my eyes and nuzzle my head against her chest. "Thank you", I mumble, barely audible even in the quietness surrounding us. Giving myself a couple minutes to calm down, I eventually put a few inches of space between us to look at her. "Why are you up already?, I ask with a smirk. Last night was one for the records. Just thinking about it makes me tingly all over again." I assumed you would be sleeping past noon, considering when we went to bed"

Instead of answering, Callie closes the gap and captures my lips in a tentative good morning kiss before her mouth moves to my neck, her intentions clearly anything but innocent. "I had a very wet and very dirty dream", she whispers as her hands start roaming down my sides. Yup, definitely not innocent at all. "And when I woke up and your side of the bed was empty and cold, I came looking for you." As her left hand continues on its decent down between my legs, her right hand changes direction to cup my breast in a delicate squeeze.

The perfect mix of pleasure and pain, which she creates with her teeth nipping on the flesh covering my pulse point, causes a shiver to go down my spine. I noticeably gulp and close my eyes at the contact, a breath of confirmation leaving my mouth, "Uh-huh." The Latina knows very well about the effect she has on me, knows exactly which buttons to push to turn me into wax in her hands. I can feel my nipple hardening under her palm, drawn to her skin like a nail to a magnet. My heartbeat is rapidly growing faster and faster as her caresses reaches their destination. "Out here?"

"There's no one around for a couple of miles", she husks into my ear after paying attention to my earlobe, nibbling and sucking it. Without missing a beat, deft fingers move my panties to the side and just a second later, their tips coming in contact with my clit. A few timid flicks against the bundle of nerves follow before she dips lower, gathering wetness from its source. "Mhmm", she hums, "I love how wet you get for me."

I should be embarrassed – really – at how quickly I am aroused by her ministrations. But I cannot help it. "Calliope", I croak out between my deep breaths, "I'm still sensitive." And also a little sore from last night. Not that I minded. The night was mind-blowing. But that last orgasm may have been one too many for my body too handle. "Just... be gentle." The second I utter my plea, her finger is back on my at the top of my folds, softly stroking along the sides instead of directly touching my clit, but still emanating an immense amount of pleasure. "Oh shit, Cal-" Her names dies at the tip of my tongue as a moan takes over. With my thighs pressed against the railing – my coffee forgotten in the midst of my emotions and Callie taking over – I try to keep my balance as my legs begin to shake. You cannot seriously be so freaking close already, Robbins.

Soon, she tweaks my nipple more adamantly between her fingers and thumb and she starts making quicker circles, using her knee for aided pressure against my core. Plump lips stroke over every millimeter of skin on my neck, chin and face they can reach.

"Fuck, Callie", I groan, my head tipping forward, my forehand landing against her shoulder. "Right there." My hips move on their own accord; arching into her skilled hands so I can get the most out of her touch as I am getting closer and closer to the edge. I just need a little bit more to tip over, I need to feel at least a little bit of her, too. Tearing my left hand away from the railing – my knuckles white from the death grip I had on it – I let my fingers sneak into the backside of her underwear to grope the flesh of her buttocks. "So close", I warn her.

"Let go."

Her words are merely a hot breath against my skin but it is enough for my body to be covered in goosebumps, throwing me headfirst into my release. I squeak out some unintelligible words – or sounds? – that I have no memory of saying as my body shudders through the aftermath of my orgasm, Callie's hands stopping all of their ministrations at once. I am sure that just one more flick or graze or whatever would have caused over stimulation on my end.

Pulling away, my wonderful girlfriend first licks my arousal off her skin and then encircles me in a warm embrace. "Better?", she asks and all I can do is nod. "Good. Pancakes for breakfast?"

All I can do is nod once again, still breathing heavily and trying to get my heartbeat back under control. Maybe you should mediate or do some breathing exercises, A. "Sounds good." Mhmm, pancakes.

A few hours later, after some time by the pool and some rounds in the water, Callie and I decide to at least try and be creative for a while. Between her hectic schedule of the past two months and me getting acquainted in and around the city I now call my home, we both kind of lost touch with things of what we love to do. For Callie that meant sitting at the piano – I am one hundred percent certain there is one in every residence the Torres family owns – and I have made myself comfortable on the couch with my laptop perched on my thighs. In a way, we are both writing, just using different styles to express our emotions and getting them on paper.

From my spot on the couch, I have the perfect view to witness how Callie writes a song. How she starts on an accord, hums the melody that is supposed to follow and then plays the keys. She stops every so often and grabs the pencil that she has tugged behind her ear to scribble the notes down on the previously empty music sheet propped up on the music rest. It's inexplicably hot. Well, maybe it's just you, Robbins.

"La la la la la la la la", Callie sings her tunes up and down scale, skipping a few notes in-between and accompanying herself on the piano. Seemingly unhappy with what she created, she erases some of it from the paper in front of her and jots down something else. Again she goes, "La la la la la la la la." Only this time, it sounds like she switched a few notes around, her voice sounding as sweet as honey.

I am by no means an expert in music; I can't even read music sheets. But I can hear differences. The second round sounded different. And I think I prefer that difference. Her voice went higher first and then went back down. God, if only you could create sounds like this with your voice, A, you probably wouldn't have been in law school to begin with.

"You know that I can feel you staring at me, Arizona, right?", the brunette laughs from her seat at the piano, unperturbed from my watchful eyes. "I don't mind. But I thought you wanted to write something?" Singing the last word, Callie hits a few accords on the piano, creating a powerful melody of low keys and higher notes to complement them. And suddenly, without giving me a chance to answer, she begins to sing, "Have you ever fed a lover with just your hand?" Her voice is super suave as the first words filled the room. "Close your eyes and trusted, just trusted."

With these two lines only, my girlfriend managed to capture me completely. I am fully and wholeheartedly enthralled by the song she creates, trying to soak up every word, every little detail. It's damn near impossible, and I know that. My brain does not comprehend music like she does. But I have learned that Callie often tries to say something with the songs she is singing, whether they stem from her own hand or somebody else's. Thus, I have learned to listen very carefully.

"Have you ever thrown a fist full of glitter in the air?" The melody that follows consists of higher keys, but her voice remains low as she continues, "Have you ever looked fear in the face and said 'I just don't care'?"

A, no, at least I don't remember. B, oh yes!, my inner monologue answers her questions. I love how she plays with the contrasts. She must be preparing herself for something good because she straightens up a little more.

"It's only half past the point of no return."

The moment her voice rose higher, my butt is on the edge of the couch, my ears strain to hear every little crack or change in her voice. Not because I am listening for skew notes but because I want to understand what she is feeling. Before I knew Callie – not the singer, but the person – I listened to music like most people in the world. Now I try to listen with my heart to actually hear what she is saying.

"The tip of the ice berg. The sun before the burn."

I can feel it, it's coming. The peak, the notes that will catch the audiences. The lines that make people want to listen to the song on repeat. The seconds in a song that get stuck in someone's head when they hear it on the radio.

"The thunder before the lightening and the breath before the phrase. Have you ever felt this way?" Has her voice been high in the beginning of the line, it then drops down a note with every word she sings until she drawls out the last syllable. Talented tanned fingers dance over the keys a little longer after she stops singing, repeating the melody she started with and humming quietly until she halts completely.

"Wow", I breathe out, at a loss of words for what I had the honor to be part of. I don't think many people can say they have been there when a beautiful song was born. Finding my voice again, I squeal, "Calliope, that was amazing! I mean, absolutely beautiful. Mesmerizing. You just came up with that?"

Turning around to face me, the Latina shrugs. "I've had this melody in my head for a few days now, I just chose to spend my time with you instead of tinkling the ivories of this old lady here. After all, this is supposed to be our vacation. After all, we are supposed to relax and not work on a new album." She stretches her arms out over her head, cracking her fingers when her hands are up in the air. The fabric of her tank top rides up, exposing her skin and granting me a glimpse of her toned abdomen. "And I think I have done enough for today. What about you? Got any writing done?"

"Uhm..." Sure, if you count typing down 'chapter 14' as writing. "Not really", I confess and then scramble to justify why I didn't." But in my defense, I was distracted! You were humming and playing the piano and I just can't seem to avert my eyes from you. And then you started singing and that's all I wanted to pay attention to. I just love listening to you singing. So, yeah, my train of thought got lost along the way and writing didn't really happen." A small part of me feels bad about it, though. I have not updated my fan fiction in probably eight months and the personal messages are piling up in my inbox. You should really try to write an update soon, A. You know how it feels when stories are abandoned and you're left hanging. Guess I have been too engrossed in my own fairy tale.

Waving her right hand at me, the brunette states, "You don't have to explain yourself to me, Arizona. I get it. I can get lost in music just as easily. I am glad you liked it." She crosses the path between the piano and the couch and sits down next to me. "Are we finally going to talk about why you were so down this morning?

Her little attack on the balcony made me feel so good that I had not wanted to ruin my mood a second time, so I kind of avoided her question when we were having breakfast. It is childish, I know. But in my head, we are in this pretty pink bubble since I moved to Miami, and even more so since we came to Key Largo, that popping it is absolutely no option. "It's nothing", I reply and continue when I see Callie's left eyebrow quirking up in question. "I sent my query letter and summary to publishing agencies just over a month ago and received another email this morning, saying they were not interested."

"Arizona, why didn't you tell me?", she wondered. "This is great news!" Is it? "I would have been there for you, every step of the way and for all the ups and downs. I know how being rejected can feel, but overall, this is exiting!" Callie is way more euphoric than I am. I had to force myself to let go of the envelopes when I brought them to the post office. "How many did you send out?"

"Only ten", I admit and hectically add, "I know it is not that many and I know there are plenty of other publishers out there, I just... I didn't tell anyone because I don't want to make a big deal out of it in case no one out there thinks my story has the potential it needs to sell on the market. I'm sorry I didn't tell you." Finding her gaze with my eyes, I expect to see disappointment or hurt in them. I could not have been more wrong. My girlfriend's eyes are shining brightly with joy and pure exhilaration. "What?"

Shaking her head, dark brown curls fall out of the loose ponytail she had pulled her hair into earlier, Callie just smiles at me for a moment. "Nothing. I'm sure someone out there will realize what a great, talented writer you are and that this story is exactly what the young adults section has been waiting for. A love story that exists without the big drama that is in almost every show on TV and without vampires or werewolves." The smile widens. "It'll happen."

I hope she is right. Maybe number ten could be your lucky number, Arizona.

I hope you liked this chapter.

The Song is Glitter in the Air - Pink