For what must've been the fiftieth time that morning Rumor put lipstick on. It didn't make much of a difference. No matter how many times she put it on her lips still looked redder then anything she had ever seen, with the exception of blood of course. All in all it was a pointless activity. She needed something to distract her though. To distract her from how goddamned pretty she looked.

That was because she looked very pretty. Her hair was done up in just the right way and not a strand was out of place. The long veil had been very carefully placed so that it wouldn't tip the fragile balance of her upsweep. As for make-up, she always did her own make-up the best. She knew exactly how to bring out her already pretty face with just the right pretty shades of red and purple.

The dress was pretty on her. It fit her perfectly and brought out everything about her figure that she liked while disguising everything she didn't. Its pure ivory tone brought out the rosy, but not flushed, hue of her skin. The train seemed only to put emphasis on how petite and graceful she was. Diamonds that had been a gift from Patrick a few months ago hung flatteringly around her neck and at the same time weren't too overbearing. The whole effect was very, very pretty.

She wanted to mess up her makeup until it looked like she was some sort of bizarre clown. Once she was done with that she wanted to drop the lipstick over her dress and ruin it's pretty whiteness. Then wanted to tear off her veil and pick apart her necklace piece by piece. Rumor wanted to destroy the whole carefully cultivated pretty image as soon as humanly possible. For once in her very pretty life Rumor wanted to feel ugly. No, not just ugly, hideous.

That's what she was feeling on the inside anyway. Hideous. In precisely twenty minutes she was going to walk down an aisle and be the doll who married the handsome prince and escaped into the land of the sugar plum fairies. Rumor had thought that she'd been resigned to that. She thought that she was ready to exchange her status as a human being for normality. Turns out that she wasn't.

After Space had left the previous night she couldn't help but think about what he had told her. His words about her being a doll washed over her, how she was better then that. Then his words about how he loved her and wished he could be in Patrick's place came. Needless to say Rumor hadn't gotten any sleep.

Tiredly Rumor looked at the bouquet she was supposed to be carrying. Putting down her lipstick she picked it up. Roses, for eternal love, lilies for sweetness, babies breath for…well…that was obvious. It had been done up rather nicely and would look very, and here was the word again, pretty with the outfit. She hated that word because it was all she was ever called by anyone. That was their only compliment.

Rumor twirled the bouquet in her hands once or twice. It wasn't particularly big, but it was very important. Basically, that bouquet represented everything she wanted her future life to be. She wanted to be loved, to have a sweet and amazing marriage, and obviously she wanted one or two kids.

Patrick had represented that. Or had he? Roses for eternal love. He loved her in the way that many monarchs had probably loved their arranged marriages. In other words it was useful and would probably look good. She didn't really love him either. Once again she was just using someone to get what she wanted. There wasn't any love in this match. So it appeared that roses were out.

You couldn't have a sweet marriage without any love in it. Well, you could probably pretend for a few years. She had had a family without anyone she cared about in it after all. Still, like the Hargreeves, it would end badly. Rumor wasn't particularly smart when it came to these sort of things, otherwise she wouldn't be in that outfit in the first place. Even so, lilies shouldn't be in there either.

Now there was baby's breath. How could you bring a child into a marriage of convenience? In all probability she would get a divorce in the end. That's what you get when you do a miserable marriage. She closed her eyes. Rumor had done some bad things in her life. Yet, she had never intentionally ruined the life of a child. No, she didn't think that she could do that. So forget about baby's breath.

It appeared that Rumor shouldn't be carrying a bouquet. She placed it tiredly onto the vanity table next to the lipstick and stared into the mirror. Perhaps she should carry daisies for normality. That's all she was going to get out of this marriage. Normality. Not love, not a happy future, not kids. She was going to get normality. It didn't seem like it was enough all of a sudden.

Rumor knew that she could run away. That was always an option. Where would she run away to though? She didn't really have a life or anyone that she could depend on. Almost immediately Space flashed in front of her eyes. Irritated at her own subconscious she tried to shake the image out. It wouldn't budge.

He loved her. He really did. While it had taken her a good deal of time last night she had realized that she felt the same. So much for it being an 'infatuation'. He had never called her pretty because something like that had never been important to him. Rumor looked down at the bouquet.

Could she depend upon him though? If Hargreeves told him to jump he asked how high? What if Hargreeves told him to give her up? He'd probably fold like a deck of cards. Yet, there was the utter desperation she'd seen in his eyes. Maybe he loved her enough to be able to put his foot down and say no.

Normality versus love. Only a moron wouldn't be able to see that one definitely outweighed the other. All her life Rumor had fought for normalcy. Now, on the eve of achieving it, it suddenly didn't seem quite so important. It turned out that there were other things in the world that she wanted more.

Yet, this was all conjecture. It was conjecture that should've been done before she'd planned the wedding. It was conjecture that she should've done before she'd accepted his proposal. Back then she didn't have the information she had now though. No matter, it was too late for her to do anything about any of it.

Rumor knew that even if she wanted to she wouldn't run away. Something like that would be too brash, too bold, and too stupid. There was a church full of people who were waiting for her to go out there. Patrick was nice in his own way. There was no way that she would do this in front of him to his entire family. No, Rumor was going to have to go through those doors. She wouldn't run away.

After all, that was the pretty thing to do. That was the thing that everyone expected a pretty girl like her to go off and do. She felt like that word was driving her mad and mocking her with everything that she couldn't have. Rumor felt like if she heard that word one more time she would go absolutely mad. Yet, she would do it. She would do the pretty thing again.

The door creaked open and Patrick peered in.

"The service is going to start in a minute," he said.

"The groom's not supposed to see the bride before the wedding," she said with a weak smile.

"Well, let's risk it. Are you ready?"

Rumor nodded, giving herself one last hard look in the mirror.

"Just…give me a minute…okay?"

"All right," he smiled before closing the door behind her, "And I gotta tell you honey, you look really pretty!"

.

.

.

When the music started up Rumor didn't walk down the aisle. People assumed that she was just running a little late as brides often do and didn't say anything. Five minutes later people started to speculate. Ten minutes later a few people had started to whisper their ideas and theories. Fifteen minutes later a bridesmaid was sent to go see what had happened.

She came back pale faced and said that Patrick had better come with her. He'd frowned and asked what the matter was. She turned a little paler and said that he had better see it for himself. Still frowning Patrick had followed her. A few minutes later he came back with the same expression as the bridesmaid. He announced that the wedding had been cancelled.

Older relatives would nod knowingly and get up quietly. A few of the younger relatives would venture into the room where Rumor had been getting ready. Those that did saw a message, scrawled in lipstick across the mirror, that read;

"Fuck pretty. I'm out of here."