Flex Member
Poor Student
Sass
/
Working towards a domestic partnership 22 years old
|
Post by Sassiest Frass on May 16, 2019 14:15:35 GMT
last edited May 16, 2019 14:16:18 GMT by Sassiest Frass
|
||
Post by Sassiest Frass on May 17, 2019 2:24:19 GMT
She stares at herself in the mirror, hard. She can hear her heartbeat and she hates it. Hers is the first wedding of the season. The most talked about event since March, when Castor proposed. She’d beamed the perfectly glowing pureblood girl who dreamt of the moment. Only she hadn’t. Dreamt about it. Was his proposal the proposal of her dreams? No. It was more the finalization of the agreement between their parents. They were a good match. Just that. Just good. Not a great match. ((That was her engagement to Black, until he had bravely turned blood traitor and run off, cementing the end of their friendship. She was sad to see it go.))
Kalypso tightens the back of her corset until she can barely breath, but damn if it wasn’t her own fault. If it wasn’t by her own design. Everything had to be perfect. Everyone’s eyes were going to be on her. Everyone was going to take notes – if anything happened, she was sure it would be the front page of the Daily Prophet. Circe forbid anyone talk about the literal war going on beyond the ceremony.
But somehow, it’s her wedding that everyone wants to talk about.
“Okay,” She turns and slides the veil over her face. Like it matters. Castor has kissed her before and it’s not like anyone is a stranger to what she looks like. “Everyone out. Yes, Aria. Everyone.”
Cia squeezes her best friend’s – her other sister’s – hand as she goes. It should be enough that her best friend loves her. That they will always be in each other’s lives – in this one, in the next, in the past. They would always find a way back to each other. It’s not that she doubts that Castor loves her. He does. Or loves the idea of her. Hard to tell, but either way.
She steps out into the main hall and makes her way downstairs. The wedding is on Greengrass property, of course. Fewer families have nicer properties. As the firstborn daughter marrying the firstborn son, the families had spared little expense.
“Kekoa,” she smiled and gave a spin to show off her dress. Her Mama had chided her for taking a chance on the halfblood photographer; an unknown in the high circles. But Kekoa’s pictures were beautiful and she used a technique Cia really wanted to emulate. So, she employed her and asked her to bring a date. Castor’s mother might actually poison her if she had an unequal number of guests. “Between you and me, I would love to see photos of anyone mad with jealousy. I will meet your date later, yes? You’ll introduce us. I’d hate to be a bad host.”
She didn’t give her a chance to reply, instead picking up her bouquet and making sure everything was in place. Her bridesmaids went forward, accompanied by the worthiest of pureblood men. No one she would willingly ever want near her. When at last Aria was accompanied by Shafiq, she took a deep breath. The picture of elegance, she glided down the aisle and kept her eyes on her groom.
He grinned at her. Her stomach did not fill with a conjuring of butterflies. Brides ought not to feel gloom on their wedding days. She’s gorgeous. Breathtakingly stunning, but Castor does not take a moment to take her in. Instead, he extends his hand out. She takes it.
She blinks and he’s leaning in to kiss her. Because she knows she’s being watched, she leans in and cups his face with her hands. The weight of her ring weighs on her soul.
Kalypso tightens the back of her corset until she can barely breath, but damn if it wasn’t her own fault. If it wasn’t by her own design. Everything had to be perfect. Everyone’s eyes were going to be on her. Everyone was going to take notes – if anything happened, she was sure it would be the front page of the Daily Prophet. Circe forbid anyone talk about the literal war going on beyond the ceremony.
But somehow, it’s her wedding that everyone wants to talk about.
“Okay,” She turns and slides the veil over her face. Like it matters. Castor has kissed her before and it’s not like anyone is a stranger to what she looks like. “Everyone out. Yes, Aria. Everyone.”
Cia squeezes her best friend’s – her other sister’s – hand as she goes. It should be enough that her best friend loves her. That they will always be in each other’s lives – in this one, in the next, in the past. They would always find a way back to each other. It’s not that she doubts that Castor loves her. He does. Or loves the idea of her. Hard to tell, but either way.
She steps out into the main hall and makes her way downstairs. The wedding is on Greengrass property, of course. Fewer families have nicer properties. As the firstborn daughter marrying the firstborn son, the families had spared little expense.
“Kekoa,” she smiled and gave a spin to show off her dress. Her Mama had chided her for taking a chance on the halfblood photographer; an unknown in the high circles. But Kekoa’s pictures were beautiful and she used a technique Cia really wanted to emulate. So, she employed her and asked her to bring a date. Castor’s mother might actually poison her if she had an unequal number of guests. “Between you and me, I would love to see photos of anyone mad with jealousy. I will meet your date later, yes? You’ll introduce us. I’d hate to be a bad host.”
She didn’t give her a chance to reply, instead picking up her bouquet and making sure everything was in place. Her bridesmaids went forward, accompanied by the worthiest of pureblood men. No one she would willingly ever want near her. When at last Aria was accompanied by Shafiq, she took a deep breath. The picture of elegance, she glided down the aisle and kept her eyes on her groom.
He grinned at her. Her stomach did not fill with a conjuring of butterflies. Brides ought not to feel gloom on their wedding days. She’s gorgeous. Breathtakingly stunning, but Castor does not take a moment to take her in. Instead, he extends his hand out. She takes it.
She blinks and he’s leaning in to kiss her. Because she knows she’s being watched, she leans in and cups his face with her hands. The weight of her ring weighs on her soul.