Just a really short drabble fic that I've had in my head for a while – it has no real plot or direction, just the thoughts of one Wolfram Von Bielefeld on the night before his wedding. Enjoy!

1wildrose1 .. x

Rating: K+
Pairing (s): Yuuri/Wolfram
Disclaimer: I don't own Kyou Kara Maou or any of the characters.
Summary: That lace would define me if I let it – would I be simple or intricate? Elegant or over the top? That twining white lace...what would it make me? Drabble Fic

Warnings: Implied Shounen-ai (Male/male relationships) and slight OOC-ness.

White Lace

I have been sitting here a while, just staring at the garb hanging on the back of my bedroom door. It was a beautiful piece – a ceremonial white robe, made of the finest silk, which would cascade down my body and contrast his ebony robe gloriously. It would wind down my arms and glove my hands in the traditional lace work that was to be worn by the King's bride and none other.

That lace would define me if I let it – would I be simple or intricate? Elegant or over the top? It would be my signature for the rest of my life – or the rest of my marriage, at least – so I have to wear it right. Should I have it on show or should I obscure it within the folds of my robe?

I don't know if I'm brave enough to make that decision on my own. I could ask my mother, who had worked tirelessly to craft the lace into an artwork depicting what had lead us to this day. It told stories within the weaves of heartbreak and struggle, passion and intimacy – all wrapped up in a clean white bow of celibacy. No...my mother would just tell me to follow my heart and choose what I will – no real advice would be given.

I sighed and stood before the offending article, hovering my fingers millimetres above the fabric – not daring to touch it, lest I taint its purity. On closer inspection, the lace had slight frays on the cuffs, evidence of my mother's – though loving – amateur craftsmanship. Some of the details were minutely misshapen and the fingers on the gloves looked too long.

Well...maybe my mother did give me some advice – or at least helped me make a decision. The lace was imperfect and in need of fixing, though I may never get around to it; it's almost like it is unfinished, though the wedding is in less than an hour. It is...fitting, I suppose.

I will wear my lace on show – the world will see my unfinished white lace and I am happy to let them see. This lace will define me as I am: imperfect and unfinished. This day – my wedding – is my beginning, so I shall let my story unfold and allow the details to be perfected as I go.

I let my fingers close around the material so I could prepare myself to get ready. Time to begin my story...

Incredibly short, but I like it ;)