A/N: I don't own anything. Please rate and review.
It was the day no one ever expected. I, Luigi Largo, was getting married. I don't get why those fuckers thought it was so strange. So what? I'm getting married. Sure, I've gotten a little stabby with a couple of ex-girlfriends. Who hasn't? With Maria, everything is different. I sound almost as much like a fag as Pavi. But it's true. I haven't stabbed anyone in like six months. Yeah, that's right. I haven't stabbed anyone because she asked me. It's not like I'm a pussy or anything. If I want to I'll stab somebody. Any fucker that pisses me off. But Maria is happier if I don't and somehow she's so important to me that it matters.
I've never been a fag like Pavi. Feelings don't matter. I never got that feeling in my gut that told me I should rethink stabbing that fucking moron who fucked up my coffee. It didn't matter. Then I met the temporary chef, Maria Rossi. She was the first chick I met who wasn't afraid of me. I came in that first morning and she was in the kitchen making breakfast. The first thing I remember thinking is that this bitch better be able to make a good cup of coffee. Then she handed me a plate of eggs and bacon followed by a steaming mug of coffee. By that point I was thinking this bitch isn't nervous, who the fuck does she think she is? As I really looked at her I noticed she was gorgeous. Not like women now. This was natural and reminded me of those girls from before I was even born. Her hair was a dark red and her skin was almost white with a sprinkling of freckles across her nose. I took a sip of my coffee. It was fucking flawless and I let her know she was the first person that could make a decent cup. Her full pink lips curled into a smile that made her brown eyes sparkle. She didn't wear any make-up and was by no means perfect. But she was the most beautiful thing I'd seen. Still is.
When I came back for lunch, I walked into the kitchen a little early. I'd just argued with Pavi and killed a GENtern. Maria knew. She didn't care. I heard Sinatra playing in the background. Not only could this woman make a cup of coffee, she listened to my favorite artist. Sinatra fans are hard to come by now. Almost as hard a naturally pretty girls who aren't terrified by me. We got to talk that time. It was only a chat and I ended up calling her a fuck up when she broke a plate. She wasn't deterred. I came back for dinner and spent hours talking to her. It was new. My father had quite talking to us when me and Pavi's mom died. I hadn't wanted to talk about anything of substance for years. In a day this girl had convinced me to talk. We only talked about music and books. There was a shared fondness for A Clockwork Orange by Anthony Burgess as well as our love for Sinatra. I started to feel a fondness for the girl.
That was the weirdest part of it. I may hate that little fucker Pavi and my scalpel slut sister, but I still have a little fondness for my arguments with them. That's why they aren't dead. I love dad for raising me but we don't talk. I was feeling something for this girl. Our talks continued everyday. Everyday I began to tell her things I didn't even know I felt. She had me admitting my fucking insecurities. If anyone ever fucking tries to bring them up I'll deny them but no matter how confident I act I do have my moments where I think about what I'd be if my dad cared more or my mom had lived. I sometimes even feel like everyone prefers Pavi and Amber because they've managed to be so fucking perfect. With Maria, this didn't feel embarrassing and I knew it would never leave the safety of our kitchen talks. One night, I asked her out. From that point on our kitchen talks were everywhere talks. Then one night I kissed her. It wasn't like it had always been when I just wanted to fuck some skank. I felt something. I never felt anything but angry or scared until this woman brought it all out. Even when dad collapsed, I only broke for a second in public. What I never admitted to anyone until this moment is the night Maria spent with me holding me to her as I cried for my father.
When the old chef, Dianne, came back, I had been seeing Maria for seven months. She was going to leave for her home on the other side of the island. I couldn't let her be that far. I'd gotten used to having her around and knew I couldn't let her be that far. It took hours to get that far from GeneCo. That night, I was on the couch in our library as we both read in silence. That was when I told her I loved her. The words felt weird coming off my tongue. She grinned like an idiot. That toothy smile that lit those eyes up had gotten to me. Every time I listened to a Frank Sinatra love song, I thought of her. That was when I knew that I could feel something I never thought I would. I was in love. She grinned and told me she loved me. I don't know what I did to get a woman that nice and pretty to love me. She was everything rolled into one. She could deal with me. She got my brother under control in no time and even Amber tolerated her. She was easy going and sweet but could be so dominant and bitchy. It was so fucking sexy.
We stayed together as she stayed and worked on the other side of the island. I stayed with her when I could and she stayed with me when she could. After we had been together a year, I asked Maria to move in. It was great. She insisted on working, saying she didn't want to take advantage. Maria and I fell into a comfortable routine. Pavi never tried to pull anything with her. In fact, it was fun watching him cling to her like a mother. Our mom died when he was three and it tore him apart. I was eight so I had gotten a lot of the motherly attention. Dad quit paying attention to us as much then. Amber's mom didn't care about any of us but Amber and then Marni wasn't around long enough to even be an influence. After Marni his lack of attention turned to critiques of all the bad habits we had. Pavi had always wanted attention from dad to make up for not having mom but dad was useless. He anted female attention. He never found the motherly female attention with his conquests. Maybe since she wasn't his to have Maria had filled it. Pavi was a child again. He'd scrape a knee or cut himself on a broken jar while counting organs and run in for her to put a bandage on it and give him a treat for behaving. It was like she had a thirty-two year old son. Amber was different. She didn't care that Maria was there. Maria had more of an affect of Pavi and me. She'd calmed me down. Maybe it was because I had a person to tell everything to for once but I was beginning to like it. Pavi was trying less to mask his imagined faults. He even quit stealing faces and only wore Amber's preserved one. Sometimes, around the house, he wouldn't even wear that one.
I decided to propose six months later. I even cooked, something she knew was a big deal. As we ate desert, her favorite tiramisu, I dropped on one knee and all that shit. It wasn't anything of that fag stuff like you complete me. I just said I liked having her around. I kissed her hand and told her she was what made me calm and I just wanted her to be happy. I told her I love her and that I just wanted her to be my wife. I wanted every one to know she's mine. I'm just possessive like that. Maria said yes. She kissed me again and again and said yes. I put the engagement ring on her finger and felt the same feeling of pride I used to get from stabbing. It was sense of pride that I could do this. When I stabbed some one, I was saying "Look what I can do!" but when I slid the ring on Maria's finger I was saying "Look who I can get!".
Now I'm standing here, at the end of an aisle two years after meeting her. My Maria. I'm even in a suit. She's stepping into the isle with a bouquet of white lilies. Her dark red hair is falling down her back in those natural curls I love. Her smile is huge and I can see her eyes shining from here. She isn't wearing one of those over the top dresses that's all the rage now where lots of skin shows and nothings left to the imagination. She's in a white dress that goes down to the floor. It's all silk and cover everything until just above her chest. It dips just a little in the center. A white veil is down to her waist, held on by a simple headband with tiny silk daisies. She's not in style to anyone in the room. Her entire dress is simple and the most elaborate thing is the headband. The fashion now is to wear a short skirt and bustier with heels. But Maria isn't like all these fuckers. She's beautiful. Looks like she's from the 1900s. I can't get over it. She's turning me into a sap. But don't mention it or I will fucking kill you. She gets to know that part of me. All you fuckers better remember the angry me. I won't stab you anymore. Maria wouldn't like that. But I will still fuck you up.