Romance is not my usual genre, so I apologize if this story is not very satisfactory.
Disclaimer: I don't own Danny Phantom. That's Butch Hartman. Who I am not.
Six years, Danny thought, staring at his twenty-one year old face in the mirror. His blue eyes showed traces of worry and blossoming hope as he readjusted his tie for the third time that hour.
It had been six years since Daniel James Fenton had begun dating Samantha Eliza Manson. They had been eventful ones, full of new discoveries about each other good and bad and privately imagined plans for the future. Danny had fantasies many times before they started dating about seeing Sam in a wedding dress with a sparkling ring on her finger, smiling warmly at him as he nervously walked towards the altar with a bouquet of roses in hand, worrying he'd somehow wilt the flowers with his palm sweat. She looked beautiful, her short black hair unhindered by the presence of a veil, eyes the color of African Violets taking in the scenery. Sam wasn't one to hide her face.
These dreams coming to pass was exactly that: A dream. But here he stood, about to walk down the aisle that both terrified and exhilarated him. He hadn't seen Sam since yesterday. She had slept over at a friends house, kissing him goodbye passionately and telling him not to worry, that she'd be waiting at the end of the aisle for him and that the wait made the prize more worthwhile. She didn't need to say what that was. He knew she was the one he wanted to be with. He couldn't wait to wake up the next morning to his beautiful violet rose's eyes staring into his own. He could only hope she would feel the same. She must have had doubts, right? Marriage was a big step to take, and an unfamiliar one at that. Neither of them was sure what to expect. They were running into something they had only seen and read about. Danny felt blind to the future.
Sam twirled around in front of the mirror in her wedding gown, fingering the long black material. It was soft to the touch and comfortable against her skin, though what it was exactly she didn't know. She looked curiously at her appearance, at her long black hair free of clips and hairspray hanging now to her waist and her purple velvet flats. She had opted to leave her hair as it was and avoid a whole lot of fussing. She thought it looked fine, but would everyone else?
She struggled to remind herself that it didn't matter, that she controlled how she looked and that it was her decision how to dress and wear her hair. Her nerves were still on overload though. It was hard to be so confident.
Marrige. "Wow," was the only word that came to mind to describe her scattered emotions. She futilely attempted to block out her worries and put her hand on the doorknob, skirt swishing slightly behind her, breathing deeply and stepping out into her new life.
They were eye across the room from each other, silence enveloping their anxious audience as they observed the pregnant pause between the bride and groom.
Sam's parents were indifferent to their only daughters fashion choices by now and merely mimicked the crowd, smiling encouragingly at her. Her long black dress was something she refused to budge on at the bridal shop, not even when her grandma Ida was her only supporter in the matter.
Sam could barely control her anticipation to get the walk down the aisle over with. It wasn't that great of a distance but it seemed like it would take eternity to finish. Everyone's gazes shifted noticeably to the left side of the room. Sam forced a smile onto her face as her father rose from his seat in the crowd, taking his daughters hand gently in his own. He smelled of cologne, a musky smell that reminded her of the woods.
"Go get him baby," he whispered, his blond hair catching the shadowy light from the candles that decorated the walls. "He's waiting for you."
That was all Sam needed. She felt a tear slide down her cheek, knew her eyes must be puffy and red. She gave her fathers hand a reassuring squeeze and pulled away from his grip, taking off running toward the man with the bright blue eyes that she'd loved for so long.
Danny's eyes widened as he watched her race to him, a determined fire blazing in her tearful eyes, ravens wing hair flowing out from behind her. He just had enough time to brace himself as she threw herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck in a hug.
He didn't ask questions, he hugged her back, running a hand through her hair as she cried into his shoulder. The priest seemed startled but began reciting the vows steadily. Neither Danny nor Sam were really listening: They knew the words by heart, reciting their answers in front of the mirror for so long.
"I do," Danny announced, viewing Sam's hopeful face change to one of pure joy, her lips lifting into a smile.
"I do," she replied when she was asked that fateful question. "I do."
Forever, they both spoke in their minds.