Once again, past tense just felt better than present tense for this piece. And now we're back to canon pairings… but expect some Leah/Nahuel in the future. Someday. :D

Leah needed to escape.

She'd suffered through the whole wedding, a smile plastered on her face as Emily and Sam said their vows—I'm supposed to be the one up there, she'd thought, Emily stole my place—and kissed. It hadn't escaped her attention that when the time had come to throw the bouquet, Emily had aimed it at her (Leah had stepped out of the way and Kim, Jared's imprint, had caught it instead. It made sense; the two were already engaged). She'd avoided congratulating the newlyweds, despite her mother's pointed glaring at her and then in their direction, and now… the wedding reception…

Ugh, I'm out of here, Leah grumbled to herself, pulling on a jacket over her unflattering bridesmaid dress (but I least I look better than Emily would in this thing, she said to herself smugly; it was the smallest, pettiest payback she could think of at the moment, revenge for her cousin's theft of her boyfriend that said cousin would never find out about, but it made her feel better, so what the hell) and checking the pockets to make sure her pack of cigarettes was still there. I need some fresh air and a smoke.

She hurried outside, and as she turned a corner down the hallway towards the exit, she caught a low murmur of voices in a secluded alcove nearby.

"—and I'll make love to you tonight by the light of the moon—"

"—oh, Sam—"

Fuck. It was Emily and Sam, or one of the Disgustingly Happy Imprint Couples, or DHIC, as Leah had dubbed them. (It also hadn't escaped her notice that, when "DHIC" was pronounced into a word, it sounded a lot like the word "dick." All guys were dicks, in Leah's opinion. So therefore, only dicks imprinted.) They must have run out of the reception to fuck and whisper sweet nothings (nothings, indeed—Sam made promises like that to me once and look where that got us) to each other or something like that, somewhere secluded.

Who said make love, anyway? Make love by the light of the moon? What the hell? He sounds like a cheesy pick-up line times ten, Leah thought unkindly, or a wannabe-suave actor. Well, he's failing at it.

Whatever. The Newlyweds could go run off and make love by the light of the fucking moon all they wanted. She, on the other hand, was going for a smoke.

As she passed by their little alcove, she couldn't help catch another snippet of their mushy-gushy lovey-dovey oh-we're-so-in-love-false-imprint-love-but-who-the-fuck-cares? conversation.

"—and I'll love you forever, Emily, I promise. I'll never leave you like my father did to my mother. I'll never be like him."

"You already are."

The words burst out of Leah before she could stop them, and as the DHIC (Disgustingly Happy Imprint Couple) whirled around, shocked that their Private Conversation was Being Interrupted, she put the most dazzling, genuine smile she could on her face.

"Oh, Emily, Sam! I didn't see you two there," Leah gushed, and she was savagely pleased to see the unnerved, wary looks on their faces. "I was just going outside for some fresh air, but now that I see you're both here, I might as well say what I wanted to say to you. Congratulations on your marriage! I hope you both have a really happy life together."

They both stared at her, unabashedly shocked, and she knew that the fact that they couldn't tell if she was being sarcastic or not, or if she seriously meant what she said was what was disturbing them the most.

The thought filled her with some sort of sadistic, almost ghastly glee.

"Seriously. You two really deserve each other. I just know you're perfect together."

With that last parting note, she shot them a final bright smile and turned back towards the exit.

As Leah headed out, she wondered why there was a sour, bitter taste in her mouth when she hadn't even started smoking yet.