Don't own them.
You look over at him, jingling the simple gold bands he'd entrusted to you, in your pocket. You watch him comb his hair, straighten his tie and button his jacket. He's your best friend, but right now, he's your worst enemy.
He's going to marry her today. You always knew he would sooner or later. Everyone knew. Destin to be together, him and that girl. The perfect couple.
They say its time to take her places and you walk down the aisle to stand. You're beside him, the best man always is. He's smiling, giddy with the thought of making her his wife. You pat his shoulder, fighting your urge to slug him. It's not his fault. They belong together.
The music begins and the bridal party starts toward the front. The brides maids and maid of honor, saunter slowly to their positions. Then she appears, a vision in white. The most beautiful bride you've ever seen. The groom makes an excited squeak at the sight of her, and inwardly you agree.
Silently you'd loved that girl most of your life. You didn't want to, but you couldn't help it. The more you fought it, the more it was there. And the more it hurt to see them together. In secret, for years you worshipped your best friend's girlfriend.
You kissed her once, it was a long time ago. You wonder now if she would even remember it. They'd been fighting, and she went to you for comfort. She always did, you were like her brother. In a moment of weakness you'd pressed your lips softly to her's. They felt like velvet, tasted like strawberries, and set your mind in a spiral of pure Heaven.
Neither of you ever spoke of that kiss, after that night. You're certain she never told him, or else you wouldn't be alive today. Not that, that would be such a bad thing. It would have spared you the torment of being there, watching as she gave herself to him mind, body, and spirit.
The priest asks for objections and you want to speak up. But you can't. You're lips wont move, the sounds are stuck in the back of your throat. There's a voice in the back of your head screaming. Then suddenly the voice is more then in your head, as the words move past your lips.
"I object!" The protest rings out loud and clear, echoing off the walls of the church.
A hushed murmur fills the room.
Her dark eyes go wide, her skin as white as her dress. And her fiancée turns to you, his face contorted in anger. You're in for it now. There's no way out.
"Charlie, what the hell his wrong with you?" He demands.
You turn to her, ignoring where you are, and that he's standing, cross armed and glaring.
"Connie Moreau, I love you." You announce shakily. "I've always loved you and if you marry him today, if I don't get the chance to hold you in my arms once, my life will never have meaning."
Tears glisten in her eyes as she shakes her head. "I love you too Charlie, but not like that. You'll always have a place in my heart, but this is where is lies."
You gulp, handing him the rings, before turning and racing out of the church. The last thing you hear before the heavy door close behind you is "I now pronounce you, Mister and Misses, Guy Germaine."
You look over at him, jingling the simple gold bands he'd entrusted to you, in your pocket. You watch him comb his hair, straighten his tie and button his jacket. He's your best friend, but right now, he's your worst enemy.
He's going to marry her today. You always knew he would sooner or later. Everyone knew. Destin to be together, him and that girl. The perfect couple.
They say its time to take her places and you walk down the aisle to stand. You're beside him, the best man always is. He's smiling, giddy with the thought of making her his wife. You pat his shoulder, fighting your urge to slug him. It's not his fault. They belong together.
The music begins and the bridal party starts toward the front. The brides maids and maid of honor, saunter slowly to their positions. Then she appears, a vision in white. The most beautiful bride you've ever seen. The groom makes an excited squeak at the sight of her, and inwardly you agree.
Silently you'd loved that girl most of your life. You didn't want to, but you couldn't help it. The more you fought it, the more it was there. And the more it hurt to see them together. In secret, for years you worshipped your best friend's girlfriend.
You kissed her once, it was a long time ago. You wonder now if she would even remember it. They'd been fighting, and she went to you for comfort. She always did, you were like her brother. In a moment of weakness you'd pressed your lips softly to her's. They felt like velvet, tasted like strawberries, and set your mind in a spiral of pure Heaven.
Neither of you ever spoke of that kiss, after that night. You're certain she never told him, or else you wouldn't be alive today. Not that, that would be such a bad thing. It would have spared you the torment of being there, watching as she gave herself to him mind, body, and spirit.
The priest asks for objections and you want to speak up. But you can't. You're lips wont move, the sounds are stuck in the back of your throat. There's a voice in the back of your head screaming. Then suddenly the voice is more then in your head, as the words move past your lips.
"I object!" The protest rings out loud and clear, echoing off the walls of the church.
A hushed murmur fills the room.
Her dark eyes go wide, her skin as white as her dress. And her fiancée turns to you, his face contorted in anger. You're in for it now. There's no way out.
"Charlie, what the hell his wrong with you?" He demands.
You turn to her, ignoring where you are, and that he's standing, cross armed and glaring.
"Connie Moreau, I love you." You announce shakily. "I've always loved you and if you marry him today, if I don't get the chance to hold you in my arms once, my life will never have meaning."
Tears glisten in her eyes as she shakes her head. "I love you too Charlie, but not like that. You'll always have a place in my heart, but this is where is lies."
You gulp, handing him the rings, before turning and racing out of the church. The last thing you hear before the heavy door close behind you is "I now pronounce you, Mister and Misses, Guy Germaine."