The day of the wedding was met with much anticipation by the town. They were a quiet and close-knit place, and still they were stunned when the quiet and reclusive Licorice began dating Kamil. Maybe they shouldn't have been shocked. There was some rumors that hinted they had met each other before they entered Oak Tree Town, and that would mean that their relationship was in fact similar to destiny. This became further confirmed when they announced their engagement, Licorice quiet as per usual while Kamil smiled more often, telling anyone who would listen that their wedding would be in a couple months, Western-style. So everyone who lived in the town showed up at the wedding, and this included Annie, the farmer who lived in the outskirts, wearing a simple blue dress that complimented her skin, tanned from the sun after years of working outdoors.
Annie was numb. She went to the wedding with Fritz and Giorgio, her fellow farmers, and it was through busying herself with them discussing crop prices that she could manage to find it tolerable. But skipping the wedding was never an option for her. The others would talk, and her missing the wedding of who was obviously one of her closest friends? Unbelievable. So she slipped into a bench in the middle row with Fritz and Giorgio, Fritz tugging at his collar, past the tie she'd arranged for him herself. He'd showed up at her house with the tie hanging from his neck, smiling apologetically, and there was no way she couldn't fix it for him, rolling her eyes as his childishness but chuckling with him about it. They were around the same age, but he was so much like a younger brother.
A waft of thick perfume distracted her, and it was Elise joining their row in one of her iconic pink dresses. Nadi followed close behind her.
"Move over, Annie," she said with irritation, but Annie shifted her position to let her through, knowing her well enough to realize she didn't mean harm. She plopped herself beside Giorgio, taking a fan and waving it around her face. "God, this is a horrendous heat. Do you know when the ceremony will be over?"
Giogrio checked his watch as Nadi sat beside Elise. "Can't be long from now."
"I hope not." She rolled her eyes. Behind their row, Klaus, Iris, and Mistel settled into their respective spaces, and about everyone was here. When Annie glanced towards them, Iris acknowledged them with a wave.
Annie stared at the wedding arch, not yet accompanied by the couple of the hour. She was still numb at this point, her body refusing to believe that this was real. No, until Licorice was there at the arch, saying "I do," this was not over. It couldn't be over until then. She placed her hands in her lap. Maybe she shouldn't look at the arch since it was too intimidating. Think of something else. So she looked back, at the reception tables, and studied the flowers that served as the centerpiece at one of them.
Tell me about this flower, Licorice.
It's a gardenia. An evergreen shrub. They need the sun. They lose all their leaves in the cold.
What about this one?
Licorice had to rise to see it, perked at the corner with a shade of orange, her arm brushing against Annie's. Chrysanthemum. They blossom in autumn. Just like you.
And she kissed her then, next to this flower that symbolized death and support and the bright open sun, their love beaming out of them then. Nobody could see it but themselves, which made the light shine brighter in its deception. When it was Annie's birthday, she gave her orange chrysanthemums, the ribbon around their bag an orange gold. They planted them together with the gloves Annie had in her tool kit, the fertile soil supporting the seeds smelling thick and hearty under them.
Licorice thought Annie looked most beautiful in autumn. Tanned skin and flushed cheeks from working hard, hair pleasant and medium-length from how she'd cut it in summer. The remains of a highlight in her brown hair, but the autumn wind blowing it as though it caressed her. To Annie, it was winter where Licorice thrived—winter, her birth season, where she dressed in cute long dresses that accentuated her waist and her dark hair spilled from her cap. When snowflakes settled on Licorice's hair, bright white against darkened hair, she was reminded again of how much she loved her.
"They're coming," Fritz said under his breath, and Elise rolled her eyes with a "Finally!" sitting back in her seat. Annie prepared herself to look calm, to be collected, before she turned her head, seeing the bride and groom.
Licorice was beautiful. She was always beautiful. Her hair was braided around the back of her head where her veil sat, braided in the way it often was before. Sometimes Annie had braided that silky brown hair herself, brushing it gently then twisting the strands together, Licorice's eyes closed, as ambient music played from the radio beside them. Other times Annie had released them, pulling at them softly until the strands came loose, all of that long hair tumbling down. She would run her hand through that hair, leaning forward to kiss her lover.
Licorice passed by Annie in that white dress. She stared forward with a placid face. Annie watched her though, like she was waiting for one last sign. Kamil was beside Licorice, that smiling shadow in black. Annie could barely pay attention to him and tried to resist the natural aggression she felt directed to him. How could she blame him? He knew nothing of their love, and certainly neither Licorice nor Annie had come to tell him of it, shame acting as a better predictor of their actions more than anything else. He grinned while wearing that black suit, believing Licorice loved him. Perhaps she did now. Annie no longer held privy to Licorice's thoughts and feelings.
Now they have reached the wedding arch, Licorice and Kamil standing side-by-side. What could Annie do besides watch, a half-hearted smile frozen on her face? She had never seen Licorice express open affection towards Kamil, because she was not that sort of girl to show things to the public. She did not show their own relationship in public, but then again, theirs was different. Theirs was to be hidden, to be half-ashamed over.
The ceremony was at its close, after the exchanging of vows. Kamil had said his breathlessly; Licorice in her usual monotone voice, hiding everything. She was like that sometimes, always hiding everything until someone was there to draw it out of her, gently, like moving leaves on water with a stick.
Then there was that end. Licorice is kissed by her groom. But I kissed you on those lips, Licorice, Annie thought. That was where I loved you.
She had loved all of her: the hands that now interlocked with her husband's, the legs that brushed against her massive white wedding dress, the feet clad in high heels that Annie knew Licorice hated. It's at this point, after all that self-control, that Annie made a small involuntary noise from the back of her throat. Fritz looked at her, and placed an arm around her shoulders. Later, she would cry, but right now she smiled, because good friends smile at each other's weddings, don't they?