Asystole ✷ Mark Sloan

𝟬𝟭𝟲 wedding favours

𝙓𝙑𝙄.
WEDDING FAVOURS

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THERE WAS AN invitation, addressed to me, on the dining table.

The house was empty, the walls quiet as I pursed my lips and picked it up slowly. It said Elizabeth on the front, which made me think that Derek had something to do with this, and was sealed with a fancy little wax stamp, which made me think that it was all because of Izzie. 

The envelope felt expensive and heavy, it smelt like it had been heavily sprayed with perfume—I gingerly held it in my hands, very slightly terrified of what I would read when I opened it. Of course, I knew it would be Meredith and Derek who were getting married, but I hadn't quite expected an impromptu invitation to their wedding.

To Elizabeth Montgomery, You are cordially invited to the marriage of Meredith Grey and Derek Christopher Shepherd.

It looked standard enough, although Addison had had butterfly-shaped confetti in hers. It had little novelty things, like the location, the time and the date—it was that evening, by the looks of it, at least I could make it. 

I sighed through my nose sharply, thinking that I would have to go on a sudden dress hunt later this afternoon and maybe even go scavenging for another pair of shoes. I was too busy planning my day in my head, that I almost missed the scribbled words at the very bottom of the invite in a familiar hand.

I was going to ask you, but now you don't really have a choice, be my best man.

It was Derek's writing; of course, it bloody was. I rolled my eyes so hard that they almost fell out of my head. It looked as though he'd done it last minute, maybe even a few hours before I'd dragged myself down the stairs. It was then that I realised the card was slightly crumpled and it definitely looked like it had been done in haste. 

Well—it's the thought that counts.

I stared at the handwritten statement long and hard, my eyebrows bunching together as I fully acknowledged what Derek had asked of me.

Best Man? I'd always thought he'd get Mark to do it again—or did he avoid that because with Mark the best man has a habit of sleeping with the bride? Or maybe it was just because they'd beaten each other up in the middle of the hospital and things had gotten weird between them.

Pursing my lips, I decided on the latter.

Getting ready for work was easy, I'd stowed the invite away into my handbag with the desire to wave it in Derek's face with an incomparably high tone and wide exasperated eyes. I found what little cash I had on me and stuffed it in my purse, before pausing in the foyer of Meredith's house. I could pencil in the wedding shopping between two appointments—Izzie's mental health check-up and Owen's catch up a consultation.

If Derek wanted a best (wo)man, he'd get the best damn (wo)man he could get.

The hospital was busy when I arrived, I'd caught a taxi and stepped off into the parking lot. As I tossed the driver a few notes, I gnawed down on my lip, reminding myself once again that I should have taken those driving lessons when I'd afforded it. 

But then again, it wasn't like I could just buy a car out of nowhere. That required money—and Addison had my trust fund under her control and hadn't allowed me into since I'd nearly cleared out a full third of it just on fuelling my drug habit.