Blood Red Lipstick [L.S.] ✓

Bonus; Everlasting.

A/N: a few small details have been changed in the last chapter.

He stands, staring down the aisle at his soon to be husband.

For the first time in his life, Harry is the picture of innocence, curly hair cascading down his back in loose ringlets, a flower crown perched atop of them. His lipstick is a soft pink, naturally pouty lips pulled into a joyous smile, delicate, slender fingers carefully clutching a bouquet of pink and white roses.

Harry glides across the room, walking with practiced ease that makes him look even more celestial and ethereal than he already does. The dress flows around his body, complementing him deliciously, every bit the blushing bride (groom, technically. Details) he's destined to be.

Harry stops just in front of him, smile somehow growing wider, blushing and ducking behind his curls shyly as Louis positively beams when his soon to be husband is standing in front of him. 

Harry laces their fingers together, holding onto him tightly, as if afraid he might slip away into the abyss.

The officiant directs everyone to sit, greeting both of them quietly as he begins the ceremony.

"Does anybody here oppose this union? Speak now, or forever hold yourself peace." He says, glancing around the room at everyone. Louis holds his breath, gripping Harry tighter.

The room is deathly silent for a few moments, so quiet you could hear a pin drop. Finally, the officiant nods in satisfaction then continues, going through the vows.

It feels almost insignificant, the vows. A few words, and they're bonded for life, they've confessed their love for each other, together for eternity, everlasting love. Two hearts in one home, until the end of time.

He can't tear his gaze away from Harry, his beaming almost husband,  with sparkling green eyes and flushed cheeks. His hand, clasped with Louis' own, a warm steady reassurance. 

"I love you." Harry mouths, winking at him.

After they've exchanged rings and shared a sweet kiss, they turn to the officant, thanking him them going to their families.

It's during a lull in conversation that he ends up talking to the man.

"You get many objections at weddings?" He asks. Why did he even say that? God.

"Not many." The officiant says. "More at types like yours," as in gay weddings, Louis fills in silently, "than others. Yours was one of the best ceremonies I've done in a while."

"Thanks." Louis says. Harry stumbles over, wrapping his arms around Louis and kissing his cheek. "Hey, baby."

"Hey, husband." Harry responds with a giggle. "You look good."

"As do you." Louis compliments. "Really pretty."

Harry giggles again, kissing his mouth again. His eyes glimmer with hope, love, adoration. Louis' certain his eyes display similar. 

"I think we should skip the honeymoon and just stay home." Harry says. "I don't wanna go on holiday, just wanna cuddle."

Louis thinks it's odd, knowing Harry hasn't shut up about the honeymoon and how much sex they're gonna have in the Maldives, and Tenerife, and every other destination they've chosen. He also doesn't know why he's in a church at home rather than the Philippines, but he hasn't questioned it until now.

He looks at Harry. He doesn't know when the theme changed from pastel green and blue to white and pink, or why he hasn't noticed these details until now.

***

Louis awakens with a start, chest heaving as he glances around. What the actual fuck was that? His wedding isn't until tomorrow, and he's not in London, he's in the Philippines.

To be continued...