So I finally got myself into gear and wrote this. It's short and sweet, because I wanted to capture this event in a series of instances in a moment in time, rather than create something long and diluted. It took more than three drafts to get it just right. I'm still not satisfied, but it was driving me nuts, so I left it at this.
If I get some good feedback, I may create a honeymoon sequel of sorts, but that would be something more similar to Melonkolie.
Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoy it!
Sand crunched along the length of Roxanne's bare feet, sifting like sugar between her toes; a breeze, tangy with the taste of salt, kissed over her skin like the lips of a lover and stirred the silken folds of her white dress. The clutch of flowers in her hands trembled in time with her own shakes. The grin on her face was so wide she wondered why her face hadn't split open, like a pencil case unzipped and gaping.
And they were waiting. Around her, in a crowd of wide, kind eyes and handkerchiefs poised to blow leaking noses; her friends, her family; their friends, his old enemies. They were waiting.
She put her first foot forward when the mournful cry of a violin struck the first few chords of a song she'd heard so many times, but never danced to. Now, slowly, haltingly, her arm held gently in her mother's grip, she marched along to a tune that seemed written just for her.
"My baby is getting married," her mother whispered tearfully, squeezing Roxanne's wrist with her soft hands. "If only your father was here to see this."
"I think he's watching."
How could he not watch? They all were. Her co-workers, crying silently or grinning as hard as she was; Metro Man, trench-coated and unshaven, honking like a goose as he snorted into a tissue; Minion, Bernard, her sisters, her cousins, her grandmother, his brainbots.
And Megamind. His eyes blazed with something hotter than the sunshine that beat down on the beach front; something molten and sweeter than honey.
At the sight of him, slight in his suit and his hands folded demurely before him, her soul quavered and jumped and burst apart like fat thrown into a frying pan; like a kaleidoscope breaking its pattern and merging so many colours to create something brand new, something beautiful. Her heart fluttered gently behind her ribcage.
Oh, how she loved him. She'd followed him around the world and he'd followed her home again. They'd lain awake on the beaches on Phuket, naming constellations; he'd tried his best to sing to her as they punted slowly through the sunken streets of Venice in a gondola; they'd sat in the park across the street from their home, counting squirrels and sharing silent secret jokes as their eyes caught and lingered.
Now, so suddenly, she was before him, clutching his arm and trying her hardest not to press against him, not to kiss him or whisper sweet things into the purple shell of his ear. God, how had she found someone like him?
"Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to-"
The priest's voice was drowned out by the bright bottle green of his burning gaze, by the clamour of his sly smile. His throat bobbed as he swallowed nervously. The sun cast a cool shadow in the shallow curl of his collarbone and struck darkness through the curve of his cheek bones.
"My heart," he whispered to her. "You are my heart, Roxanne."
Something he'd learned while they trekked the moors of Scotland, scaring sheep and bracing icy skin against howling winds.
Mo chridhe. My heart.
Roxanne remembered the way he'd kissed those words, like an ancient, sacred mantra, into the soft expanse of her skin that night. The way he'd whispered it like a binding spell, to keep her caged in the warm confines behind his ribs.
"We're finally here," she replied in hushed tones, like a woman awed and humbled.
Megamind's long lashes were powdered with clinging sand, like snowflakes. Roxanne thought that she might like to catch them on her tongue, feel their biting chill.
The weight of that moment chased one of his usual lengthy monologues from his tongue and that single word was choked through a throat closed with emotion. Roxanne took his long fingers in her own, squeezing tight.
"…take Roxanne Ritchi as your lawfully wedded wife?"
"I do," he said. The muscles in his jaw jumped as he tensed his teeth to bite back a shaky breath.
Roxanne's grin returned, brightening her face like a sunrise. Megamind's gaze was thoughtful, was shy.
"Roxanne," he whispered in a tone she remembered from the first time he'd kissed her; the first time she'd told him that she loved him. It was a quiet kind of plea, or a prayer in her name. "You won't ever leave? You plan to stay with me, forever? For entirety?"
"For eternity," she corrected him, smiling at his mixed words. He batted away the correction like a fly.
Yes, that do. Roxanne, please…do you?"
"…your lawfully wedded husband?"
To both questions, Roxanne said a definite and determined, "I do."
And the fear in his eyes melted and, before the priest had time to give him permission to do so, he pressed to smooth line of his lips to the plump swell of her mouth; a bloodless bond.
"Eternity, then," he murmured, and she nodded firmly.