𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐎𝐒𝐌
/ˈpæɹəˌkɒz(ə)m/ • pa‧ra‧co‧sm
(n.) a detailed, prolonged imaginary world, with history and often geological creations, created by a child that includes human, animal or alien creations.
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an Ib (2021) fanfiction | Garry x...
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𝐖𝐞𝐥𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐓𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐥𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐒𝐥𝐚𝐩 𝐓𝐞𝐜𝐡𝐧𝐢𝐪𝐮𝐞:
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The two of you watched on as Ib put the ring on the ring finger of the Grieving Bride's left hand. The portrait changed, now depicting a smiling bride. The title had also changed, now reading: Blessed Bride, and the woman in the painting threw her bouquet up in the air, only for it to fall through the ceiling and land in your arms.
Ib and Garry gave you a small round of applause, as you gave them (and the paintings) a mock bow with the bouquet of blush pink flowers in hand, just like actors did on the stage when they had finished their performance.
Garry smiled at you with a foreign twinkle in his visible eye, "I suppose you're the next to be married then!"
Right, you realised, that silly notion... Garry was poking fun at a common wedding tradition. One where the newly wedded bride would throw her bouquet of flowers behind her at a crowd – usually comprised of unwed women – and whichever caught the bouquet would be the next to be married... Or at least passing on good luck and fortune to said the woman.
You had seen it happen a lot on social media, as well as the sparse amount of weddings you had attended.
But this was the first time you had ever caught it. By a painting, no less... Does that even count?
What the fuck is this thought process here—?
Bringing the flowers up to your face to smell was an attempt to distract yourself. You sniffed at the flowers, hoping that they would smell familiar enough to offer any sense of security – or maybe just temporarily relieve you from the smell of paint and dust. It hadn't. The harsh scent of paint and chemicals infiltrated your nose, making you cough and sneeze.
Garry snickered, and muttered, "Bless you."
The bouquet definitely didn't smell like the rose you had in your pocket, that's for sure.
