fandom_muses: The First Time
The cuff-links catch the light shining in from the window and he's surprised at how even his breathing is. He isn't nervous. Maybe he should be. That's what scares-not scares him... well, actually, yes. It scares him.
All of this seems like it's supposed to happen. It's just the way it played out in his head. His suit is perfect and he's got the room to himself twenty minutes before the music starts. Stacy came in earlier to check on him, kiss his cheek, wish him good luck. Now the church is silent and so is he. Breathing quietly and nowhere near as nervous as he should be.
This is where it all starts. This is what it's been leading up to. This is the good, he thinks. The good a man is supposed to get his hands on and cling to, the good a man tells himself over and over he'll earn if he just keeps pushing a little harder. He clenches his hands into fists at his sides, feels how cold his fingers are, and shivers before turning to look himself over in the mirror one last time.
He looks like his father in this suit. Which was the whole point, in some way or another. In a few minutes he'd go through that door and he'd be nervous then, he tells himself. He'd wait for her at the altar and smell her perfume the second she started walking down that aisle. The words would be said and he'd give her the smile she's deserved since the moment he met her. His mother would cry. And the sun would sting his eyes once they got outside.
And years from now he'd hold her child in his hands. Wake up in the middle of the night to slow dance his newborn son or daughter back to sleep in their living room. Buy her flowers on odd days when cases were tough and catch her watching their old home movies when he came home from work.
This was the good he'd waited twenty years for. This was his life beginning again. A wife. A home. A career and a family. All the things that kept a person going. Kept a person happy.
Without ever really looking at his own face, he turns away from the mirror and glances at the door when he hears a firm knocking against it. It's time.
This was what he'd been waiting for. This was what everyone waited for.
Muse: James Wilson
Prompt: Speak now, or forever hold your peace.
Words: 410
All of this seems like it's supposed to happen. It's just the way it played out in his head. His suit is perfect and he's got the room to himself twenty minutes before the music starts. Stacy came in earlier to check on him, kiss his cheek, wish him good luck. Now the church is silent and so is he. Breathing quietly and nowhere near as nervous as he should be.
This is where it all starts. This is what it's been leading up to. This is the good, he thinks. The good a man is supposed to get his hands on and cling to, the good a man tells himself over and over he'll earn if he just keeps pushing a little harder. He clenches his hands into fists at his sides, feels how cold his fingers are, and shivers before turning to look himself over in the mirror one last time.
He looks like his father in this suit. Which was the whole point, in some way or another. In a few minutes he'd go through that door and he'd be nervous then, he tells himself. He'd wait for her at the altar and smell her perfume the second she started walking down that aisle. The words would be said and he'd give her the smile she's deserved since the moment he met her. His mother would cry. And the sun would sting his eyes once they got outside.
And years from now he'd hold her child in his hands. Wake up in the middle of the night to slow dance his newborn son or daughter back to sleep in their living room. Buy her flowers on odd days when cases were tough and catch her watching their old home movies when he came home from work.
This was the good he'd waited twenty years for. This was his life beginning again. A wife. A home. A career and a family. All the things that kept a person going. Kept a person happy.
Without ever really looking at his own face, he turns away from the mirror and glances at the door when he hears a firm knocking against it. It's time.
This was what he'd been waiting for. This was what everyone waited for.
Muse: James Wilson
Prompt: Speak now, or forever hold your peace.
Words: 410