Title: White Eyes
Pairings: Cameron/Dead Husband
Fandom: House, M.D.
Summary: She never understood why anyone would want to be compared to a snowflake...
The dress is too white.
It's blinding when she looks at herself in the mirror and she is forced to close her eyes. Everyone else told her that it was perfect on her, that it made her look like a snowflake. She never understood why anyone would want to be compared to a snowflake, seeing as they fall apart with the slightest touch.
Was that what they were trying to tell her? That she was destined to break? Yes, she was about to marry a man who probably wouldn't live to see Christmas but did that give anyone the reason to hint to her that she wouldn't be able to take it when it was over? Her mother had tried talking her out of it but she had put her foot down. She was going to do this whether or not anyone liked it.
She spins slowly on the upraised platform is front of the mirror, making the bridesmaids tell her how beautiful it is. The dress swirls out momentarily before falling back around her feet. How was it that the dress could perfect itself so easily when she still hadn't even come close? She stares at herself again in the mirror and resists the urge to turn away.
The dress is too white.
She walks down the aisle to the organs tunes, her father on her arm. Everyone stands and turns to look at her. She wishes they wouldn't. She's already trying hard not to run out of there right at that moment. She closes her eyes under the veil and lets her father lead her the rest of the way to the alter. She can still feel their stares even in the darkness and she wants to yell at them to stop looking at her.
The veil is pulled up and she opens her eyes. Her father kisses her on the cheek and then hands her over to her husband-to-be. She feels as if she is just being given away, like she is not wanted anymore. Pass her on to someone else, they're probably saying, so she can focus her attention on someone else's well-being.
The priest is old and wrinkled, with small rimmed glasses that sit on the edge of his protruding nose. She is reminded of an elephant and she has to fight the urge to laugh at her own thoughts. He speaks in a low voice with a slight lisp to it. His s's drag on but no one seems to notice. Her future husband is smiling down at her with a worn face from all the treatment they are giving him. He's happy though and she makes herself smile.
The dress is too white.
She hurries down the churches steps, her new husband's hand in hers. She wants to get out of there, out of the dress that makes her want to put on a pair of sunglasses. People are cheering around them, cameras flashing, but she can't here them or see them. She's focused on the car at the bottom of the steps. She has to get to that car.
The driver opens the door and she climbs in, but not before tossing her bouquet over her shoulder. She doesn't turn to see who catches it, but by the sounds of it, it seems her sister has. She climbs in the car and sits down on the leather seats. It sticks to her exposed back and when she pulls away, it hurts slightly. Her husband doesn't say anything but rubs her hand gently, as if telling her that it's going to be alright.
She looks down at her lap and studies the wrinkles of her dress. She's married now. She has a new husband, a new name, a new life. It seems that she gave away all of her old life when she said 'I do.' She still has school but that will be over in a couple of months. Her husband will be dead in a couple of months.
The hospital room was almost as white as her dress.