AM

I Wanna Be Yours

Alex was a musician. He was very good at being one, too. So it only seemed fitting that he sang his wedding vows instead of saying them. His band had found a gorgeous poem by John Cooper Clarke, editing it into a fantastic song.

Jamie, Nick and Matt stood behind him, poised to play. Adjusting his suit, Alex stepped up to the microphone.

"This is a song I hope encapsulates the way I feel about you, Arabella," he said, looking into her eyes.

She blushed, wiping a tear from her cheek, and Alex tried not to melt at how beautiful she was. Her dress had mesh sleeves, embroidered with flowers that made up the top half of the dress. The skirt was long and widened at her hips. She was Alex's princess.

"I love you, baby. So much," he said, "and this is for you."

He turned and nodded to the others. The song began with a simple drum beat with some chords strummed over the top. After taking a deep breath, Alex started to sing.

I wanna be your vacuum cleaner
Breathin' in your dust
I wanna be your Ford Cortina
I will never rust
If you like your coffee hot
Let me be your coffee pot
You call the shots, babe
I just wanna be yours

As he sang, Alex noticed Arabella tearing up a little more. He was glad that she liked the song. The poem itself meant so much to him in the first place, but now, it was everything. He launched into the chorus, pouring all of the joy and adoration and pure love that he felt for Arabella into his voice.

Secrets I have held in my heart
Are harder to hide than I thought
Maybe I just wanna be yours
I wanna be yours, I wanna be yours
Wanna be yours, wanna be yours, wanna be yours

Arabella's eyes weren't the only ones crying in the room. Even Alex, who very rarely cried, could feel tears pricking his eyes. He kept them back, however, trying to keep his singing stable. It was difficult to do so when he was looking directly at the love of his life, the most stunning girl he had ever had the luck to meet.

Let me be your 'leccy meter
And I'll never run out
And let me be the portable heater
That you'll get cold without
I wanna be your setting lotion
Hold your hair in deep devotion
At least as deep as the Pacific Ocean
I wanna be yours

Secrets I have held in my heart
Are harder to hide than I thought
Maybe I just wanna be yours
I wanna be yours, I wanna be yours
Wanna be yours, wanna be yours, wanna be yours
Wanna be yours, wanna be yours, wanna be yours, wanna be yours

Going into the last (and his favourite) part of the song, Alex didn't bother attempting to hide his emotions anymore: it was an emotional song, after all. A single tear rolled down his left cheek.

I wanna be your vacuum cleaner
Breathing in your dust
I wanna be your Ford Cortina
I will never rust
I just wanna be yours
I just wanna be yours
I just wanna be yours

The amazing combination of Alex's crooning voice, smooth backing vocals and his guitar resonated through the room. When the music died down, Arabella practically ran (as best as she could in heels) to Alex, throwing her arms around his neck. She knew she should've waited for him to return to the altar but she couldn't contain herself. Nobody had ever written a song for her before. Alex was the most generous, genuine, loving person Arabella had ever been with and she knew she made the right decision by choosing to marry him.

"You'll always be mine, Alex," she whispered in his ear. "I love you."

"I love you too," he replied.

Arabella was the enigma that Alex had solved, the kite he had tied down. He truly was hers.