*AN* I know this is short. But duuuude, its about to get interesting.
After 40 Million brides shops, bruised balls (thanks to Monica) and a coffee, she had found the wedding dress. "I love it!" She squeeled. She was smiling from ear to ear. She was wearing a corset dress with embroided jewels all aound. It then floated out into an amazing dress, and it made her look so happy, and she was still smiling. "She looks so cute when she smiles." Woah, where the hell did that come from? I shook my head to try and get rid of the weird thoughts. "Chandler? You okay?" She asked. "Yeah." I mumbled. I grabbed her hand and helped her down off the stool she was standing on. Her hands are so delacite, with her french tips and I know that she uses a speciasl hand lotion, and it works, Her hands are so, so, so soft. I could hold them forever. She looked in the mirror. "I love this dress!" She screamed. The shop owner came over. "Ah, one of our best dresses. Good choice." the shop keeper saw me. "Oh no! The groom is not supposed to see the bride's dress!" She gasped. Monica and I both said "We're not together." The shop keeper looked confused. "I'm not the groom." I said, obvious resentment in my voice. "Then..." The shop keeper started, "Why are you holding hands?"