the singles
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"we all spend so much time not saying what we want, because we know we can't have it. and because it sounds ungracious, or ungrateful, or disloyal, or childish or banal. or because we are so desperate to pretend that things are okay, really, that confessing to ourselves they're not looks like a bad move. go on, say what you want...whatever it is, say it to yourself. the truth will set you free. either that or it'll get you a punch in the nose. surviving in whatever life you're living means lying, and lying corrodes the soul, so take a break from the lies for just one minute."
― a long way down by nick hornby
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Ally plops down in the wooden chair, smiling through her tiredness. She's expected this day for years, and now that she's living it, she's completely over the moon. She absentmindedly fiddles with the flowers sitting on the white table next to her, wondering which bridesmaid they belong to. Her fingers caress the delicate light orange petal, admiring how the shade of the sunset and white swirl together, making it look like icing on a cupcake.
Ally turns back from the bouquet, looking at the other three girls that are currently running around looking like chickens. She takes a deep inhale, for once enjoying the smell of hairspray and curling irons burning hair, so it will stay in ringlets. She stands up and smoothes down her satin dress, her heels clicking as she walks to one of the many full length mirrors. Her hands re-tie the silk black ribbon that wraps around her waist for the tenth time today, and her vision wandering down her reflection. Her wide eyes stare back, full of energy. The thin sized strap of the dress is in a halter style, creating a v-neck lined with lace. From the ribbon up, the dress is simple satin, gleaming in the light of the room. From the ribbon down, it's cascading lace in ruffles, stopping just above her knee. She twirls, seeing the porcelain flooring reflect the red of her number.
She smiles again, satisfied with her dress at last. As she stalks back to the other girls, the wooden door blocking the bride from the rest of them screeches open, revealing a very unraveled looking Trish.
"Ally," she whines in a worried voice, running her hands over the crown of her head. Ally sighs, and rushes to her side. She fixes the veil, and guides her distressed friend to the chair she was sitting in a few minutes prior. Ally tells her to sit still, and calls over Eliza, another bridesmaid, to give Trish a massage. She checks the time on her watch; twelve short minutes before the traditional march would ring through the church.
In an impulsive decision, she runs to her small black clutch, grabbing the orange capsule from its contents. She rushes back to the heavy breathing women in the chair, squatting in front of her, so they were looking eye to eye.
"I have anxiety pills. I know you didn't want to have to take meds for your wedding, but they'll take your nerves away in minutes," she says in a cooing voice, shaking the petite bottle slightly.
Trish culls in another deep inhale, and shakes her head. "I don't need to be on something to know he's the right guy," she says, her regular confidence ringing through; not as much as normal, though, of course.
Ally's smile turns lopsided, seeing her best friend act like herself. She checks the time again, though, and suddenly a prickling feeling is setting over her skin. Trish must sense her friend's sudden uneasiness, and know why it was caused, because she tenses up herself.
"Ten minutes, everyone!" Ally yells out, causing the three other girls in the room to turn and make their way out the door, after spraying on more perfume, and fluffing out their hair. She stands behind her best friend, as she stands and maneuvers to the closest full length mirrors. Ally pushes the curls that fall down her back forward, causing them to fall down her chest instead, and then locking the pulled up half of hair with a few more bobby pins, and non-scented hair spray. Ally dos a roll of her index finger, signaling for Trish to spin. She does so, not slipping once, impressing the maid of honor.
"You look beautiful," she breaths out in awe, her eyes trailing over every bit of the bride. "He won't be able to keep his hands off of you," she adds with a wink.
Trish looks down into her hands, blushing. "He's your brother, Ally. You shouldn't think like that," she says, brushing off the compliment; she's grown to detest them, unless they come from her husband-to-be.
Ally laughs, tilting her head back while she does so. She links her arm through Trish's, and they make their way out of the room, grabbing the last two bouquets off the table.
"But you're my best friend, so it doesn't matter," Ally says in response, as she un hooks their arms, and gives a good luck hug to her raven haired friend. "You'll be fine, sweetie. You both love each other more than anything else," she says reassuringly, stepping out of the way of Mr. De la Rosa.
Ally coordinates the wedding court, telling who to walk out and when. "Just like the rehearsal dinner, guys," she blows out, casually tucking a strand out hair behind her ear as she scribbles notes down on a clip board.
"Um, hi," a voice says to her, just as she was turning around to go check with the actual wedding planner to make sure they both have up to date schedules, and everything is perfectly coordinated.
She spins around on her heels, having to move her head back as she sees the figure asking for her attention is much closer than she expected, "Hi. What do you need?" She says sweetly, standing on her toes to look over his shoulder to the planner; she manages to steal a glance at him as she does so. He's wearing the black suit and orange-fading-into-red tie, so she knows immediately he's a part of the court.
He sends a smirk down to her, but nervously strokes the back of his neck with his palm. "Um, well, I'm the best man, but I don't know where I'm supposed to be."
Her vision snaps from the wedding planner in the distance, to the man in front of her. Her eyes narrow into slits naturally, feeling emotions boil in her insides. She slaps him on the arm — she has this weird feeling like she's done this action a million times before, but it's fleeting and she doesn't have time to dwell on it — without a trace of sympathy, a cracking noise ringing through the stiff air in return.
"This better be some joke Dez set up," She hisses at him venomously, turning on her heel away from the blond man.
"Hey!" He quipped, grabbing her arm and pulling her back to him. He tried to ignore the fact that he felt his palms start to perspire from the connection, and that he couldn't hear his own voice due to the fact that his heart was beating blatantly in his ear drum, as he continued, "This isn't a joke!"
"Well, what the hell!" She spat, running both hands through her hair, but then her eyes enlarged even more — if that was possible; he didn't even believe her brown orbs had the capability to broaden any more than they already were — once it accrued to her she was messing up her carefully styled chestnut mane.
"Why didn't you do what you did last night?" Ally says, suddenly feeling the need to cry, giving a shove to his — well toned, she might add — torso that almost knocked him to the ground.
"I wasn't there last night!" He says in defense, crossing his arms protectively over his chest after he regained balance and brushed off his trousers.
"WHAT! Shit, this isn't good, holy shit, why weren't you there! You're just going to ruin everything, you now that? This is my best friend's wedding, what the—follow me, Jesus!" She breathed out in hysterics, marching towards the colossal church doors, trapping his wrist in a death grip when she realized he wasn't trailing her.
"Where are we going?" He cut into her never ending monologue full of questions, which was starting to blur together in his head, making him feel dizzy and numb as he tried to sort through all her words.
"I'm taking you to the back entrance, so you can sneak in next to Dez, like we had planned! Me and Trish were supposed to meet you guys at the altar! Oh, god, this door better be open, or else..." The 5'5" woman ranted on, moving her grasp on the gentleman's wrist down to his actual hand, lacing their fingers together.
His face glowed, but he squeezed the velvet fingers that his own were currently caressing. He almost felt awkward, holding hands with a complete stranger, but there is this vibe coming from her that makes it seem like they know each other — like they know each other well. It's that vibe that's telling him they aren't complete strangers that eliminates any of the equivocal traces in the air.
"Why can't I just walk down with you? Like all the other groomsmen?" He stops in his tracks, running a hand threw his tangled tresses as his eye brows knit together.
"That's if this door doesn't open," she answers, her eyes starting to lose their immense size, her pupils starting to go back to a normal dilation. Ally scooped air with her right hand, signaling for him to come along — since he had dropped her hand when he came to a standstill — turning to finish the adventure to the back of the quaint blue church that sat on the outskirts of an off-map village. He followed hesitantly, missing the feelings that were brought by her fragile fingers tangled in his steady ones.
Once he whirled around the corner, he rested his whole frame against the edge of the building, and stared intently at the mystery girl as she yanked harshly on the white door that appeared to be locked.
"Well," she said, rotating to rest herself against the door, panting lightly with closed eyes that angled up at the sky. "We have to go back around."
He chuckled and started stalking to the front of the wooden structure, slightly making out the sound of her heels fumbling around in the rather high grass as she attempted to catch up to him.
"Wait for me!" She exasperated, throwing her arms on his back, her panting beginning to increase, — from what he assumed to be not from the minuscule amount of physical exertion she had just exemplified, but her growing nerves over the ceremony — and he answered her with another chuckle, spinning around to face her. He slipped his hands into hers, and swung them side to side.
"Everything's fine, sweetheart," he said with one of his infamous winks. He oscillated forward to walk again, but continued to drag her with both of their hands connected. She giggled, the sun staining her hair with streaks of gold as she tilted her head back with her eyes closed.
"If you say so," Ally finally answered right before they opened the doors to the church to renter the ceremony. Before they pushed open the mahogany doors, however, they shared a real moment; full of longing eyes boring into one another, mouths slightly curved up into smirks with jagged breaths being inhaled and exhaled, and most importantly, the sparks they had heard so much about all their lives — the kind they both had been secretly wishing to feel all their existence.
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It's undeniable that one of Ally Dawson's favorite part of a wedding is when the bride walks down the aisle, and then to look back at the groom; the expression of love and adoration that wipes any other emotion clean off his face. You can just tell that he's in his own world that is just for himself and her, and there's just no bringing him back to reality. Ally has attended more weddings than she can count, and she's been a part of the court far more times than what she considers plenty, but it's this one that gives her a bubbly feeling — one that is so light and airy that she's sure she's going to pass the newlyweds' cloud nine, and just shoot all the way up to ten — and it doesn't make sense to her in the least. She can't pin point a factual figure that would separate this experience from the others, but she vows that there is just a different vibe in the atmosphere.
She takes another hesitant step down the aisle, stifling giggles as Austin whispered a joke about the pastel dresses — that were much like potato sacks, he stated — all the older woman wore. She was on his arm, beaming proudly, trying her very hardest not to look up to the blond beauty or over at the crowd eyes — all those eyes that persisted on prying on the duo — but kept her gaze at the back of the room, where the grand organ sat.
"I think me walking out with you works better anyway — you walking by yourself would just look awkward," he whispered down to her while barely moving his seashell colored lips, reminding her of a professional ventriloquist.
"Don't push your luck, guy," she mumbles back in response, keeping her wide smile present, "if you've forgotten, I planned this wedding. The actual person hired did squat."
"Squat," he mimes back in ridicule, "who says that?"
She turns to face him for a split second — even during a split second her alarming doe eyes are able to hitch his breathing — and gives him a knowing smirk before she turns to face forward once more, "I do."
They take one more step, and realize that they are at the end of the pathway. Sighing inwardly, he kisses her hand — the protocol of a groomsmen before he takes his place behind the groom, she scolded to him once the last bridesmaid took her place in line and they started their descend down the red carpet trail — and walks slickly over to Dez, keeping an easy grin on as he patted his best friends back reassuringly.
Taking her place next to Eliza, the last bridesmaid in the line, she stared intently over at the groom's corner, trying to figure who the blond she had just met — although she just can't shake this feeling that they knew each other before, that they were close at one point — was. Her smile showed her rows of pristine teeth as it grew, watching the mystery man interact with her red headed brother — she'd always wondered how Dez and herself could ever be a part of the same family, let alone siblings. With his resplendent ocean eyes, his calm and straight locks of fire, and most importantly his stature; towering over everyone else in her network of family. Everyone else she had met, however, that she was related to had the same ski slope nose, curious chocolate eyes, wavy tresses, and were all rather short.
The classic wedding march played for what she knew would be the last time, and while everyone's gaze held the back of the room, Ally kept hers locked on her older brothers. She'd always admired how he could be so awkward, yet so charismatic, lighting up the room was in with his eccentric and random personality; but she sees right through him right now. The growing genuine smile on his face made herself beam as well, knowing that he's swelling up with love and elation, seeing the beautiful Hispanic woman making her way to him to be united in holy matrimony. Ally knows better than anyone in the room that at this very second, her older brother Dez is using every bit and piece of self control to keep from jumping up and down to squeal like a school girl.
The ceremony continued on, Trish finally being passed from her father's arm to her soon to be husbands, them both saying their vows to love each other endlessly. Once the justice of the peace asks for the rings — because, yes, this wedding was meant to be old school, by the book, and cheesy in every single way possible — and the best man is supposed to step forward, the same bleach blond man stepped forward holding two small silk boxes.
Wait; hold up, where did he get those? Austin is supposed to have them. She thinks with a raised eye brow, not being able to connect the dots.
Ready to start the intervention, break up this mistake and find her older brothers best friend — whom she had been close too, but unfortunately couldn't keep in contact with resulting in them not seeing each other for at least three years — she studied the fraud over with her hawk eye. She hadn't paid much attention to his appearance earlier, just the situation he was in and how it put the perfect scenario she had spent years fantasizing over in jeopardy. Taking in every one of his features with detail, she gasped inwardly.
He flashed his stare up to hers, sending her a secret smile. She can feel herself flush, and is over come by the need to fixate on her shoes. Like the smiles and gazes her best friend and brother had shared earlier — and were currently still sharing as they slide the gold bands onto one another's left ring fingers — she knew what she and Austin were experiencing was only theirs. She was living a dream of hers; to be in a world with only two people that had hearts beating as one, breathing in sync, and simply being together no matter how much space sat between them.
"You may now kiss the bride," rung through the high ceiling, enunciating the silence to a higher degree. Dez doesn't hesitate to pull the feisty woman into his arms, folding the lacy veil back and tucking any loose strands of hair behind her ears, connecting their lips with a gentleness similar to a butterflies'.
"I know pronounce you husband, and wife," the justice of the piece finishes, pausing between the husband and wife, no doubt wanting to add a dramatic effect.
Cheers and shouts are heard from all over, and after a second kiss, the newlyweds beam as they walk hand in hand down the aisle. Sparkly white confetti, grains of rice, and small silver circles are thrown at them as they trek out into the sidewalk, where everyone would gather around them to give a congratulations before driving over to the reception.
Ally meets Austin at the end of the carpet, right where he had left her. She snakes her arm into the crook of his elbow, knowing that as they walked down the aisle this time, she wouldn't waste her precious time with him staring blankly into the distance. She let her teeth gleam in the light, making her eyes crinkle from the vast smile consuming her face.
"Someone's happy," he comments as their stares hold, neither of them bothering to blink.
"More than happy," she answers biting down on her lower lip tentatively, a rose colored hue spreading shyly across her full cheeks.
"What's got you so...smiley," he decides uncertainly on the last word, raising a well maintained eye brow.
"What's not got me smiley?" She quotes him in a questioning and challenging manner, "my brothers married to my best friend, I'm about to go to a reception where all my 'older siblings' will be, my real family, and even more," she pauses to — once again, she does the seemingly impossible — let a more commodious smile take over her facial features, "I'll be seeing my brothers best friend — specifically, one of my favorite of his friends that I've been missing forever — for the rest of the night."
They are outside now, in the spacious light where they are free to roam around until the guests started to pour out to give hugs and congratulations, the official meet and greet to avoid any awkward encounters at the reception. The other three pairings from the court have to walk outside before everyone else, so they know that they have at least two more minutes of quiet and privacy before their haven will be replaced with pandemonium.
He holds a look of confusion for a moment, but then connects everything — finally realizing who the girl in front of him is — together.
"Ally!" He screeches, picking her up delicately in his arms and spinning her in circles, his arms enveloped tightly around her skinny waist. She giggles gingerly, gladly snaking her frail arms around his neck, matching his warm embrace.
"I've missed you so much," he whispers into her hair as he sets her back on the ground with care.
As she feels her Jimmy Choos — she'd grown accustomed to the sparkly heels that had the tendency to resemble stilts once she had gained a surplus of money that needed to be blown one way or another — come in contact with the rough gravel, she smiled delicately up at him, reminded of how she used to get bitter over the fact that he towers over her. Like the wedding in general, she'd spent years imagining how this particular encounter would go — him spinning her docilely around in circles behind the building the reception was being held at, as a nearby tree blew wisps of white and pearl pink flowers into her hair, him pulling them out and comparing her beauty to the sunset; hers overriding the natural wonder, of course. In fact, she has so many different scenarios carefully planned out — down to the last detail, the last second — that suddenly, the real life version is a major disappointment. Honestly, it lacked the clichés and the stars aligning in the perfect order, making his eyes open to realize that everything he's ever wanted in the world is staring back at him, starry eyed and all. Instead, it was full of awkward silence as the two tried desperately to hold gazes without blushing.
"So what have you been up to lately?" Ally asks tentatively, lacing their fingers together again in a quick, graceful flick of the wrist as they stroll down to the happy duo that were just married.
He looks down at her, a look of terror passing through his eyes before he puts on a mask of nothing. Taking two steps back almost instantaneously, he holds the hand she had held only seconds before protectively to his chest. Ally wasn't exactly sure how to take his sudden actions, but the slight cloud of confusion fogging up her thoughts did not stop her from feeling completely mortified over the fact that she had just been rejected — and rather harshly at that.
"Well, then," she said turning away from him and taking a few more steps before throwing over her shoulder, "come on, let's go."
Austin's heart came to a dull throbbing as he watches her meager form leave him in the dust. He liked the mystery of the demanding and quirky girl from their adventure earlier — when he couldn't place a name to a face and aid girl had no strings attached. He had been eager to twirl the new girl around on the dance floor, and cause giggles to escape her tightly drawn lips at some sarcastic comment during a serious point in time — perhaps during a speech, or simply a quiet period. He had even planned on the second he would pull Dez over to a corner, point her out in the sea of dancing people — Dez would do approvingly, take a sip of whatever beer he decided on for the night, and then make it clear to the blond that if he were to leave early with this exotic beauty, no offense would be taken. Only, of course, the well thought out fantasies were never to happen now. Austin's actually very ashamed of himself he couldn't place those melting caramel eyes of hers before — he'd always prided himself on the fact that he knew every single detail of those shocking irises better than anyone in the world ever could.
Walking a few paces behind her, and distinctly hearing the sound of at least two other pairings from the court trot along behind them — no doubt making their way to just-wedded couple — he ran both hands through his carefully gelled hair. He'd pictured the moment of seeing his favorite 'half-pint' — one of the many nicknames he gave her, back in the day — for the first time in years very differently. He'd imagine a tight embrace and a few girlish squeals, himself claiming how much she'd grown and how she hadn't changed a bit. They would laugh at old time inside jokes, and spend the rest of the conversations reminiscing over all their favorite memories. He'd be polite and kind, never speak or of place or rudely, and try with all his might to not be reminded — he'd always known it would be a hard task, considering how a simple look from her would bring out the honest side of himself — of how, when he used to spend the night at the Dawson house, he would lie awake, tossing and turning while conjuring up different plans to swoop into her room and dazzle her like no man ever before him did. Only now —much like his plans of spending the rest of the night with the mystery girl — all that planning and self preparation was being flushed down the toilet of nothing.
Plastering on an award winning smile, Austin reached the end of the sidewalk, stopping at the bend that led to the parking lot, where Trish and Dez had stopped themselves. He went through the normal congratulations, teasing them that they were a match made in heaven. He even went as far as doing his old handshake with Dez, after an embrace. He stood awkwardly next to Ally once they were both done foundling over their best friends, patiently waiting for the crowd erupting from the church's wide doors to disperse.
Once a few people had come and gone, driving the few miles to the reception. After hugging some old fart woman — at least, he'd called her an old fart in his mind — he snuck a glance at Ally, wondering what could possibly be going on in her mind. She — having at wonderful hawk eye of hers — felt his gaze and moved her own up to his, giving him a reassuring smile from over the old farts husbands' shoulder, for they were caught up in their own embrace. Smirking, he decided to dub the husband 'a bag of bones' so he could have a matching nickname with his wife.
In that smile of Ally's, though, he saw something from earlier. Something that had always been a cautious territory for himself, given the circumstances. Never the less — just as always — it coated his whole figure with warmth and just that feeling of okay, like nothing horrid or devastating could ever reach him in this new land — the only thing was that it wasn't actually that new. He'd known that he'd been in this state before — where he's all dimples and teeth staring down at her while she's fixated over something completely unrelated to him, only, there was so much more to it than that. He's stunned by the fact — still amazed by it after all this time to get used to it; he's known this girl since she was in the cradle, for crying out loud — that only she can make him feel like the world is actually at peace and at his finger tips. Likes he's actually himself and that no ones judgment could ever stop him — except her of course, because she's in this state of invincibility with him, and her opinion is the world to him.
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Ally, over the years, has come to except the fact that she will forever be an awkward individual. Only so many people on this Earth are blessed with the skill of charisma, and the rest just kind of come to learn it by studying others, but it's the one lesson she would ever get an F in. She's tried, oh how she's tried to be a fluent conversationalist with a random stranger at a random party, but every time without fail her foot finds a way to get in her mouth, and then she's poorly trying to patch the hole she's created. Ally has just come to terms to living for those moments, because at the end of the day, all those happy minutes blur together into nothing, but the embarrassing, awkward moments are the stand outs that she'll be able to laugh about and carry for years to come.
So, she guesses fate wants to give her another memorable token, as she slides into next to Austin in a barren limo, watching the rest of the court mingle with the remaining guests on the sidewalks. Ally had strictly told them all that it was time to pile in the black stretched out car, that they needed to get to the Bed-in-Breakfast styled hotel that had graciously offered up their dining hall as a wedding reception space. The laminated index cards that held the itinerary by every fifteen minutes that she had handed out to every person in the 'behind the scenes' part of the wedding clearly stated that the court needed a spare half hour or so to get situated into their hotel rooms, and make any last minute adjustments to their appearances.
None the less, she was left alone in a romantic limo with the Austin Moon, and neither of them had anything better to do than make sure their lines of vision never come in contact with each other. Thinking over every single possible conversation starter, she sighs and bites down her bottom lip as she turns to him.
"This is so incredibly stupid. We haven't seen each other in years, so the only possible way we can come up with to catch up is silence?" Ally lays out flatly, her attitude clearly evident in her shinning eyes.
Austin, in response, laughs lightly and casually throws an arm over her shoulders. "You're so right."
"When am I not?" She answers sarcastically, trying to retrieve the natural banter they've always had. "Anyway, what have you been up too? Are you still at Juilliard?"
Austin contorts his facial expression, showing his discomfort with the topic. "Yeah, I am. For one more year."
Turning her head to the side subconsciously with curiosity, her eyebrows almost forming one gigantic brow as they scrunch closer together, "You don't sound very happy about it."
"No, no, it's not that! It's just," he trails off, zeroing in on nothing in particular as he turns his head to the right.
"It's just not what, Austin?" Ally interjects softly, sitting up straighter.
"I'm studying my music with so many awesome and talented kids, and it's great, but somehow, I feel like I belong in California, not New York," He quipped with a painstaking sigh, connecting their gazes once more.
Simpering, she pivoted her body to face him in a more comforting manner. "I remember arguing it out with you: Cali or College? College is more important right now, Austin. California will still be there this time next year."
"I know that, but like you always said. You only get so many chances at making it, and let's face it, image is everything. No label wants to sign a thirty something year old man."
"If he has talent, they will," Ally said with force, but then eased her intensity, "and you are talented, Austin."
Giving her a diminutive smile, he nodded his head. "What about you? Dez never mentioned if you got into Juilliard or not."
Biting on her smile, she bobbed her head up and down. "I got in, but I didn't attend this year."
His eyes widening, he shifted his whole frame forward in shock. "What! But, it's like, your dream school! Why not?"
Giggling at his antics she replied, "I did a Broadway show instead. I signed my name on an audition form while I was pretty tipsy," earning raised eye brows from Austin, "but by the time I got the call to set up an actual date, it was too late. I wound up getting the part though; a lead. I made a small debut, but they weren't keen on me coming back without more experience."
He stared at her with a mix of disbelief, shock, and awe paying across his features. "I thought you had stage fright," is all he manages to get out as a sweep of confusion comes into play as well.
"I did, but," she sighed and shrugged, giving a lopsided smirk, "something just clicked, and I realized that if I think I did my best, then there's nothing else I can do. They'll always be someone else out there to prove your talent too, anyway, if you get rejected."
"This is just too amazing, Ally. What was Broadway like? I can only imagine."
"It's all rehearsals and diets," she answered, rolling her eyes, "and stuck up actors and, I swear to god, everyone has a melt down with a producer at some point. They expect perfection, and that's just not possible until the actual show night."
He doesn't respond, just gives her a look that tells her to keep going.
"But other than those minor details, it's," she says, closing her mahogany orbs as she contemplates an appropriate answer, "breathtaking."
Both sighing in content and longing, their absorption within one another is broken as the limo's door is aggressively yanked open, revealing a disheveled looking bridesmaid and her groomsmen.
"Hi," Eliza breathes out exasperatedly, ducking as she climbs to the seating all the way in the front. Garrett — the groomsmen she had walked with and was currently following her to the front seating area — gave the two a head nod and half wave, which they hesitantly responded to in a similar manner.
"Hey," Ally answers after a brief period of quiet passes, fiddling with her hands to keep her attention busy.
Rachel and Kirk come in next — more people from the court — then Carrie and Jack pile in before the married couple themselves. Everyone breaks into cheers and claps as Trish and Dez get situated, smiling wide smiles and Carrie hands them each a glass of the complementary champagne set out.
"This early in the party?" Trish asks skeptically, holding the wine glass far away from herself.
"This is the exclusive before party, sweetie," Carrie says with a beam, handing everyone else a glass themselves.
Ally bobs her head approvingly, gladly taking the crystal glass, "A toast to Trish and Dez! Long live Trez!" she says, and before chugging down the liquid she clanks her own glass against everyone else's.
"You guys are all too much," Dez says once his drink is gone.
"Is it a crime that we love you?" Ally answers him, doing that one of a kind voice only she can pull off, and only during sarcastic questions.
The ride is short to the reception, but it seems as if it drags on for hours, what with all the laughs and smiles the manage to pack in with it. Trish has had a lot of happy and keepsake moments with all the people in the limo, but she's sure that she's never been so jubilant as she was in that moment — with her husband's arms securely looped over her waist, mumbling promises to escape the crowd of people eventually during the celebration to get some quality couple time under his breath to her, with everyone in the world that has had an actual impact on who she has become today surrounding her with genuine smiles and wishes of luck that reach a place that others just simply can't. Trish is just so sure that this is what true bliss is — not any of that fairy tale junk that they feed you as kids, because that just simply doesn't happen in the real world; but she had no doubt in her vivacious mind that this is close as you can get to a princess moment.
Once they pull into the lot behind the hotel, Ally leads a group in through the already ajar back door, explaining that their belongings were brought up to their rooms prior to their arrival, thanks to the official wedding planner dropping off their overnight luggage bags when she herself arrived. Just as the brunette is ordering the designated couple of the night to come out of the limo, Austin grabs her and pulls her close, whispering to her how they could use some time by themselves. He sends her to the group she was in charge of leading, winking as he shut the car door.
The only two left aren't exactly in a state of mind where they can produce sentences that will make sense or even be of importance, so they sit in silence for a few minutes, drinking in each other's company — because really, when it comes down to it, it's all they need to survive. Pushing the cascading curls off of her shoulder, Dez nuzzles his head into the crook of her neck and busies himself by planting butterfly kisses down her neck.
Trish can feel the electricity she felt when they were just naive teens — she's reminded of the days they spent in random fields or secluded beaches, hiding from the bustling city life and just the world in general. They'd never enjoyed the harsh judgment their coupling got in the beginning, so they often took every chance they could to drop off of the face of the Earth and disappear into one another. She would sit in his lap — the only place she ever felt truly protected from the dangers imposing on her — while he would leave a trail of kisses down her velvet-skinned neck, whispering nonsense promises of truly escaping everything and running away together. He'd tell her that he loved her, and she would make a sassy remark of how she never knew him to be a romantic — but one look in his starry eyes and she would tell him that she loved him back with all of her heart.
Letting out a sigh of content, she let the memories subside, reminding herself that the present is so much better than those half hearted times. He felt her tremble as her planted the last kiss, and cupped her face with so much delicacy she compared it to that of a flower petal. Pressing their mouths together gently, he whispered more words against her pouty lips to her; and it's the first time she never feels the need to doubt them, because — let's face it — she's never been completely comfortable with her appearance and despite her normal confidence, she had an extremely low self esteem on the inside.
He whispered, "I love you," and she smiled, finally excepting the fact that he would forever and always belong to herself and only herself.
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A/N: Hey guys! I just wanted to satrt off by thanking everyone for the loads of support I've been getting! It means so much and I love you all way to much for my own good :) Anyways, sorry I haven't posted in awhile, but I've been facing so many plot bunnies, and I keep choosing the wrong ones to write, so its really hard for me! This will be a two-shot, but I am not uploading the second half (although it is finished) until next friday, unless I have an over whelming demand to have it up ASAP. Dedicated to WorthyPurpleCrayon, since her birthday was the 23rd :) So sorry I didn't have it up by then! I am a disclaimer.
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