These little thoughts.

She swishes the vodka in the plastic cup, the olives rattling around as she looks around. This whole thing- it's a vision in pink peonies and lace tulle, hung from the rafters in obnoxious bunches that draw out that little voice once more, prodding her.

How gaudy.

Of course Britta could do better. That doesn't mean she would, though. She rolls her eyes and takes a swig, silencing the voice is a single swoop, the clear alcohol burning as it goes down. Her eyes water and her breath hitches- so maybe she's not as good at this as before. Though, as she crosses her legs and leans back in the pew, her hand back to swirling the cup, she can hardly be blamed for slipping into bad habits.

She can hear the voices of elderly aunts and raucous children, the family of the blushing bride, knows they look picture perfect on the left of the room, though she can't bring herself to actually face them. Rather, her eyes cast upon the right, the groom's guests a somewhat colorful mix of old classmates, overdressed lawyers (even from feet away, she can see the gold watches and crisp seams that just scream 'douche'), and a few others she doesn't recognize. She didn't expect any different from him.

She's snapped from her reverie by a hand placed on her bare shoulder, and a murmur.

"Jeff wants to see you." Abed says in a matter-of-fact voice, leaning over her shoulder as he nods towards the doors.

"Oh." and the little thought passes her mind in a single fleeting second, but Abed is too quick for her.

"You're not leaving." and with a look at her, even as a shade of doubt covers her face, he takes her hand. Gently pulling her up from where she's sitting, her drink is forgotten as they step outside, her hand still firmly in his.

"I thought you weren't relying so much on the tropes." she glances at him as they descent down the marble, her heels clicking with every step.

"I'm not. You just wouldn't leave Jeff."

"Or Annie." she says hastily. He's silent for a moment, and as they finally reach the base of the stairs, to where the tents are set up on the grass lawn, he nods.

"Right."

And now she knows that he knows.

"He's in the one on the left."

She lets go, a tiny smile playing at the corners of her mouth. "I'll see you inside."

"Sure."

Her fingers brush against the white nylon of the tent, silky as she pushes her way through.

"Huh. I knew I'd find you staring at a mirror, Jeff." she glances around the tent, empty save for a few chairs and a full length mirror, before which Jeff Winger was preening, and stifles a laugh.

"I can't deny anyone the privilege of seeing me at my best, especially not when I look like this." he smirks, buttoning up his sleeve as he points at a chair. "Could you hand me my jacket?"

"I might just drop it on the ground instead." she rolls her eyes and lifts it up, arching an eyebrow at the hot pink boutonniere.

"Annie." he shrugs, a knowing smile on his face.

"Duh doi." she half-smiles, as he takes the jacket from her. The voice whispers in her ear, making her stare at the ground in half hearted dismay as he adjusts his bowtie.

Calla lilies would've looked better.

"So, what do you think?" he says, drawing her up from half formed thoughts and echoing pangs. She stares at him, eyes wide as she takes him in, his dark suit and crisp white shirt fitting him perfectly, of course. His hair is tamed perfectly, and as she stares into his eyes, a smile dances on his lips.

Not a smirk, not a grimace; a light, simple, perfect smile that twists her insides and breaks her resolve. She smiles despite herself and folds him into a hug, all of her senses urging her to pull him down and press her lips to his. But instead she holds him and breathes him in, holding him firm against her as they stand in silence, his arms tight around her as sway in their spot, neither willing to let go just yet.

Three years.

"It's been too long." he whispers, staring down at her, "haven't seen you in forever."

She shakes her head, tears beginning to form in her eyes. "You've made it this far without me. What's a little more?"

"You were there for me before. You could've been my best man." he brushes the hair away from her face, his eyes shining with wetness as they stand, tightly embraced.

"I could've been your girl." she whispers into his chest, sobs wracking her shoulders as she grasps his jacket with tight fingers, and he draws her closer still, his lips on her hair as his own tears fall..

"I know."