The flower petals fell around them like rain, their sweet scent permeating the air, making everything seems as if in a dream. Mary felt like she was floating, Francis' arms around her, their feet impossibly light on the ground as they danced. Pure joy ran through her veins.
And then he lifted her and she truly was flying, laughing delighted as time itself seemed to stop, everything seemed to fade until he was all there was. A myriad of butterflies fluttered inside her as he held her, and then spun and set her down again. But the feeling never left her.
Her heart beat wildly; it hadn't stopped since the ink had dried of her signature, since the priest had finished the ceremony and she'd become his wife. They were married.
a/n: That lift they cut from their wedding dance needs to be shared with the world.
