OK, even I forgot about these gems... let me know what you think. Who you suspect. How you feel.
It's a stupid tradition - white dresses and flowers and horrible music so old no one knows the composer or the musicians, or can remember a time when someone didn't play the same tired track. The shoes ache and the guests look just as pained about the stuffy formality of the entire affair. Yet, no one thought to make a change, no one thought to do it different. It's just how it is. Maybe that's why most people skip the formality and just shack up. It's more comfortable that way. But not him, he wanted to proclaim to the world and have one Hell of a party.
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She seemed so excited, so he sucked it up and played along. He didn't really mean to say it when he did. Not that he didn't mean it, but he'd never thought the public display was very appropriate. Dauntless tradition was fading out generation by generation, this was very, very old school. Even the cold of the hallways buried deep couldn't keep him from feeling woozy in the heavy layers of his rented suit. He'd rather climb to the top of the wall in that monkey suit than have to declare the overly sappy vows in front of the whole faction, but these are the things you do for love.
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Blue, pink, white, yellow, green… all soft and mellow and smaller than he could imagine. How could anyone start off that small and grow as big as him? Was he ever that small, was she? And what size was the right size, was the smallest size for when they were only brand new? Could it even wear it for a week before it was too small? Maybe it was better to get the next size up or the size after that, room to grow - maybe longer to get use out of it. When he touched the fabric, it felt soft like the mist in the early mornings that settled waist high - he always liked walking to school in the mist. School… would the schools be fixed by the time it needed them? Or would they still be holding classrooms in each faction too scared to let the kids mingle until they were adults? How much could change in just a couple decades, or in a few months at that.
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It feels new somehow. It's like the last three years never happened, but if they didn't he wouldn't feel the way he does. He didn't think it would change things, that it was just some charade they'd do and have the photos to point to years down the line, just like the parties, the holidays, the dinners on Sunday - just another day in their lives. But something feels different enough that he can't look at her exactly the same way. He can't think of her as the same person. It's like those little scripted phrases were a spell that brought out someone even more lovely and beautiful and all the mores so since they meant she was for ever his and he was forever hers. Now and forever, however long that might be.