Bruno Bucciarati; Wedding Day.

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He adjusted his tie accordingly, staring at himself intently in the mirror. Sweat beads dripped on his forehead, and he mentally grimaced. He tussled his hair, trying to calm his nerves, but the longer he looked at himself the more disfigured he looked.

A hair was out of place, he noticed. Was this suit too tight on him? Did his gold dress-slacks look funny? Was his boutonniere crooked?


His stomach tightened, and it felt like he was going to puke. He couldn't afford for something to be out of place, today, for something to look wrong. Today was going to be one of the best days of his life, and some small mishap would not be in the equation.

A knock placed on the door of the small room.

"Uh-, come in." Bruno spoke, facing away from the mirror and toward the threshold.

In poked a familiar lilac-haired man. His hair pulled back into a slick manbun, the suit on his body a blood-red color, shoes the same as his, white rose boutonniere in the exact same place Bucciarati's placed.

"Everything's ready, Bruno." He cleared his throat.

"Oh, okay," He paused. "I'll be out in a second. Thanks, Leone."

"Are you okay?." Abbacchio pursued, entering the room even more, closing the door behind him with a soft click.

"What do you mean? I'm fine."

According to the visible sweat accumulating on his temples, Bucciarati was not fine, and Abbacchio could see that.

"Are you, uh, nervous?."

Bruno's body tensed, and he unknowingly chewed the inside of his cheeks. "No. What gives you that idea?."

Leone scratched his head. "You know, you'll do fine right? You look good, Bruno, you wont mess up."

"I'm not one to be pessimistic," The black-haired started. "But, what if I do, Abbacchio? What if it embarrasses her, what if she-."

"She loves you, Bruno."

His heart skipped a beat.

He remembered your soft, (hair colored) hair, and your stunning (eye colored) eyes. Or the way you crinkled your nose when you smiled, and the way you hid your face when you cried.

He wondered how you'd look today. Beautiful, he could imagine. But beautiful wasnt even the right word; you would top beautiful.

Abbaccio noticed his lack of response, and the usually stoic man couldn't help but smile. He knew he was thinking about you, now, and nothing else mattered.

"You know, marriage is a big deal," Leone started. "But you got this covered. You and her, are meant to be, and I don't even believe in that shit."

Bruno cracked a laugh. "Thank you, Abbacchio."

"Hey, don't mention it. You deserve this."

Nothing more was said, the best-man had known that was all he needed. He exited the room, and it was time for Bruno to follow afoot.

He checked himself out one more time, before he stepped out of the dressing room.

The hall was long, almost suffocating. He felt like he was being squished. He reached the large marble doors and slowly put his hand to the cold handle. He pushed it open.

The pews were filled with quests, friends and family. He tried his best not to get stage fright as he walked along the aisle to the back of the room. Abbacchio stood in his place, already, on the platform next to the officiant.

He stood, and he waited, tapping his foot anxiously. The doors opened and Trish made an entrance, waltzing her way to the back, wearing the same blood-red colored bridesmaid dress. She stood in her position, bouquet in hand like yours would be.

The music qued. As he waited for you to turn that corner, it felt like the longest moments of his life.

And there you were. Your eyes locked, and without will, a smile cracked onto his face. His eyes teared.

He was right. You were better than beautiful, better than gorgeous, better than any complimentary word anyone could ever come up with. You were...you.

The front part of your hair had been pulled back in twists, while the rest danced around your face elegantly. You had a touch of makeup, but, it wasnt very noticable. Your dress hugged your body marvelously. Instead of a veil, you wore a dainty headpiece, which he thought complimented the dress even better.

Tears bubbled in his eyes but he blinked them away. Before he knew it, you were in front of him, and all the anticipation and anxiety disappeared.

You cried, tears stained your face, but tears of joy.

He had you, and you had him. Forever and always, in sickness and in health, to have and to hold- for as long as you both shall live.

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