"What do you think?"
This is the first time I've seen Aimee in her wedding dress - she didn't want anyone to see it before the actual day - and she looks amazing. Really. Her hair is sleek and wavy and has been swept over to one side. It's simple but it still looks beautiful. The dress is a strapless affair. Nothing too fancy. Simple but elegant. The train spreads out over a meter behind her and I wonder how on earth she's going to manage not tripping over. I'd be straight on the floor if it was me.
"You look incredible." I say. It's true, she really does.
"Thanks." Aimee replies and - to my astonishment, she blushes. I honestly don't ever think I've seen her blush before. Then again, it is her wedding day; she's bound to be nervous. Or excited. Or both.
"Do you think Alex will like it?" She asks, looking worried.
"Well, if he doesn't then he's an idiot."
She gives a nervous giggle and takes a break from wringing her hands together to smooth down her dress.
"Are you ok?"
"No. Yes. No. Maybe. I think so." She turns away from the mirror to face me properly. "I'm nervous. I mean, really nervous. More than I thought I would be. What if I trip up or say the wrong thing or just mess up in general? Or what if Alex changes his mind when he sees me and doesn't want to marry me anymore? Or what i-"
"-stop! You're over thinking it. Relax and enjoy it. It's your wedding day. You're getting married, Aimee! Of course you're going to be nervous, but you should be happy, too!"
She takes a deep breath. And another. And another. For a few moments, I think that maybe she's going to throw up and I'm just preparing to take evasive action in order to avoid ruining her dress when she breaks into a smile. "You're right." She says. She picks up her bouquet, turns back to the mirror and surveys herself one last time. "Ok. I'm ready."
"I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride."
I watch, grinning, as Alex and Aimee embrace. Despite her worries, Aimee didn't trip, nor did she say the wrong thing or mess up and Alex didn't change his mind when he saw her. In fact, I think that the moment he saw her erased any doubts that he may or may not have had; his jaw literally dropped.
They're making their way down the aisle now. Aimee grins at me as she passes and I grin back. I'm so pleased for her. So pleased. And maybe a little bit jealous, because she just seems so happy! And here I am, at a wedding, with my brother as my date. I shouldn't complain, it could have been much worse; Mark spent the majority of the service trying to catch my eye.
It's getting dark by the time we arrive at the reception. It's seems to be a nice night, thank goodness, which means that the fact that the reception is mostly outside is more of a help than a hindrance. There's a dance floor, surrounded by dozens of small tables, that opens up onto a lawn which also has dozens of tables dotted around. The light from the dance floor spills out onto the grass, lighting it up almost as if it were the middle of the day.
"I know I should have said this earlier, but you look great." Ethan murmurs as we sit down at one of the tables beside the dance floor.
"Thanks." I reply with a smile. I'm about to return the compliment when he continues.
"I think that guy over there must think so too," I follow his gaze and am immediately disgruntled. "He can barely take his eyes off of you."
"That's Mark." I mutter. "He who would have probably ended up as date if you hadn't agreed to come with me."
"You don't like him?"
"Not really."
"How do you know him?"
"I don't, really. He's one of Alex's friends. I've only met him like twice. He's kind of a dick."
He laughs. "Fair enough." He rises from his seat. "I'm getting a drink. Do you want one?"
"Sure. I'll have whatever you're having."
He nods and disappears into the crowd. I sit, watching as Aimee stands in the centre of the dance floor, swaying slowly to the music, her arms wrapped around Alex's neck. She leans in to whisper something to him and he laughs and kisses her. I sigh. They look like the perfect couple. I drag my gaze away from them and survey the room. The atmosphere is pleasant. Everyone seems to be in a good mood. The chatter that surrounds me is light-hearted and good-humoured. Even I'm in a relatively good mood. That is, until the empty seat next to me is filled by Mark.
"I bet this kind of stuff seems boring to you now. You know, after dating a vampire." For someone who claims to hate vampires, he sure brings them up a lot.
"Not really. I wasn't with him for long."
"Probably a good thing, getting out before you ended up as a personal blood bag."
"Yeah, I guess." I reply casually. I'm watching the people on the dance floor, instead of looking at him, in the hopes that Mark will get the hint and at least change the subject, if not go away.
"Is necrophilia like your thing then?"
I turn to stare at him in shock. I wonder for a moment if I've misheard him. "What?"
"Well, vampires are dead, aren't they?"
I continue to stare at him, because I'm not sure if he's making fun of me or whether he's being sincere. I'm not even sure how to answer. Of course necrophilia isn't my 'thing', but even if it was, it wouldn't be something that I'd admit, would it? "Well, yeah, technically they're dead but I don't really think that it counts as necrophilia. It's not like I'm digging up graves and sleeping with skeletons, is it?"
"Sleeping with vampires is probably worse." Mark says with a shrug.
"Why?"
"Well, they kill people. It's their basic instinct. They're incapable of love, of any human emotions. They're monsters."
"Humans can be monsters, too. It depends on the person, not the species."
Mark shakes his head, laughing. "If you say so."
"I do say so. I dated a vampire, remember? He never laid a finger on me."
"How do you know that for sure? They've got all sorts of tricks, mind control being one of them. How do you know that he wasn't beating you within an inch of your life every night and then making you forget?"
I open my mouth to retort angrily that he wouldn't have done that, that he wasn't like that, but then I remember that our whole relationship was just a part of some little game to him, wasn't it? So he could have very well been doing horrendous things to me and then making me forget. But I'm not about to admit that to Mark, no way. Especially not whilst he's looking at me with that smug, superior expression.
"You're an ass." I hiss at him, rising from my chair. I turn on my heel, intending to go and find Ethan and keep as far away from Mark as possible, and almost walk straight into the person stood behind me. My exclamation of surprise dies in my throat when I see who exactly is stood before me. For a moment, I think I might be seeing things, because there's no way that he would be here. None at all. Have I gone mad out of longing and started hallucinating? I take a moment to survey him, starting from his shoes, just to make sure that what I'm seeing is real. And it seems to be, because no matter how many times that I blink, he doesn't disappear. When I reach his eyes, his mouth turns upwards into a small, apprehensive smile.
"Hello." He says simply.
For a moment I'm speechless. In that moment, I seem to freeze at the mere sight of him. And I don't mean freeze as in I can't move, I mean I can literally feel myself becoming cold, hard and bitter at the mere sight of him. I'm not sure what exactly it is that makes him think that he can just turn up here, smile at me and everything will be alright after the way he left things, but it makes me angry none the less.
"What the hell are you doing here, Godric?"