Title: Something Blue
Day/theme: June 13 - We will buy dishes there, maybe even two sets (late08)
Author's Note: comment_fic Author's choice, author's choice, give me a gentle autumn before the dying of the year (Frank Wildhorn)
.something old, something new. something borrowed, something blue.
"What do you think?"
He shrugs. After seeing fifty shades of blue, from periwinkle to robin's egg, navy to cadet, he was regretting just how seriously Rinoa was taking the adage "something blue". To him, like most men, a decoration was a decoration. He fails to see the point of going through fifty shades to find 'just the right one'.
"It's a good thing I love you," She says wryly and smiles up at him with that enigmatic, coy, Riona smile.
He obsession was to match the dining room with the exact complimentary color of her mother's plates, thin blue porcelain with captured worlds etched inside. Perhaps it was a bad thing to let it slip that he liked the color well enough, as Rinoa had taken to obsessively finding color swabs for their blue-and-white house in the suburbs.
She sighs dramatically. He knows she's not half as irritated with him as it would seem.
"Come on, I think it's time for a break," she says and locks her arm in his.
Her father still disapproves that Squall lives with his daughter, or that he even exists at all.
Rinoa has painstakingly explained countless times that Squall was her fiancee and it was not really that shocking, but her father would only look on tight lipped at the man who stole away his daughter.
Her father has never been never a traditional man except when it came to his daughter. He is in fact, a very liberal man, but he is a father before anything else, which is very bad news for Squall or any other usurper, who was bound to have the talk which was bound to involve shotguns in one form or another. But somehow, Squall survived, without bullet wounds.
It is a hard enough chore even to get this far, and she certainly couldn't have if it hadn't been for all that persistence. As she keeps reminding him, the wedding is actually quite casual iconsidering/i. Even if her father is paying and would have unloaded the amount of a national treasury if she asked, The only thing she desires is a quiet, backyard wedding in her mother's wedding dress. And a lot of other things, all in the shade of blue.
She is outside the norm. She wants an autumn wedding, not June, and she likes the idea of a soft rain falling, and him carrying her through over the wet pavement.
Outside the shops, she held fast to his arm.
"I want to be married before winter – maybe on a precipice so there can be snow and the turning leaves."
She looked up, so full of wonder. "It's all so gentle to see the leaves fold in – they're so sleepy!"
She spins, eyes closed, childlike in the grasp of a memory.
"Can you give me that?"
"I'll give you whatever I can," he says.
She takes his hands in hers. "And would you ask me to marry you all over again, this time with daddy's shotgun not at your back?"
He shifts slightly. "...yes. I would."
She laughs, joyous and embraces him.
"Then that's all I need to know right? That and your opinion of mauve."
"..I thought mauve was a type of food?"
She kisses him. "Squall, I love you, but I think I'm going to ask Selphie for the rest of the decorations."
"She's going to want to make it a big affair," Squall says.
"Then I'll just have to tell her to hold her horses. I don't want you running away. I'm not sure daddy would forgive that, even if I explained that it was just because the crowds."
"Would you marry me right here, right now?" She smiles up at him.
"Then there's no hurry! See, we're already newlyweds! Everything from here will go great. Now Mr Leonheart, I'm looking forward to forever."
He nodded, choked with emotions. In his arms she is bright, lovely, and when he kisses her again, he feels lucky somehow to have brushed with hope and caught it in his hands.