Ah, there she is.
He'd always known that she'd look perfect in pure white, had always known that her eternally inquisitive eyes and immaculate face would radiate in a sea of flowing snow in a form of a trailing gown.
Her veil, of course, did nothing to hide the bright periwinkle of her irises, and her sultry, deep brown hair, though twisted in a clean up-do, did not stop shining like it always did.
Ethereal, like she had always been.
Roses and freesias in her beautiful bouquet, because she's pure and innocent and just so graceful, even under constant pressure he and his past would usually cause.
Her grace was perfectly showcased as she slowly glided towards the altar, and Yato felt tears well up in his eyes.
This is just how he had imagined it.
He just didn't imagine that there would be another man waiting for her on the end.
Never did he imagine that he would be standing in a corner, arms crossed, eyes watery, heart slowly breaking as her groom reached out for her gloved hand, just as the love song playing slowly faded into the background.
Yato straightened up, turned his back on the scene, and reminded himself that this is just what he promised her.
"Be the happiest girl in the world," he whispered one evening as his (screaming) Regalia swiftly cut her ties with him one by one.