RP: No Wedding Cake
Characters: Cho Chang.
Location: The flat...
Date: 3rd of April, 2000
Status/Warning: Closed.
Summary: Gold silk, truth, and the ocean.
Completion: Complete.
Cho lit up the golden dress: where the silk met her skin was a Valentine's day card, and there were already memories in this particular cut, the line where it met just above her knee. It would look nice at the grey of the beach. She didn't mind. She didn't care.
She didn't care if she would be cold.
It simply made sense -- walking without shoes, no perching on those high heels, bringing herself as she was and all done up in gold foil. Unwrap me, she thought to herself. The reflection in the mirror paused, hands at hips; she'd painted the nails a muted pink, something that put her paler than she remembered, closer than close. Cho had the idea that if she couldn't be extravagant (not the wedding she'd imagined, but truer somehow, not a send-you-off rice parade) she would be simpler, as simple as she had a right to be. No shoes, no shirt, no problems --
Only, not quite.
Only: a silk dress, and an unbuttoned sweater, and her hair down to blow in the wind. She'd come up with vows. She'd come up right this time, come up promising. It would be something they'd never forget.
Am I happy?
Yes. Cho was happy in a way she'd never been before. There was no need to show it off, to prove to the world that it existed: everything about her was light, and she didn't always have to smile. Her body was a feather. She'd never danced, never practised, never lived so truly. Where there was fear, there was also trust; where there was fear, so lived the knowledge that fear did not omit love. Butterflies came from the same place as fear, after all. Hadn't she been frightened the first time they kissed? She hadn't wanted to admit that it was something she'd imagined. Something she wanted, more than anything.
But she'd admit now that she could imagine marrying Percy -- and that she would, that it was everything she'd ever asked for. Everyone grew nervous, when it came time to give their life away, slip their potential into suits and lace, set their future ring-shaped. Didn't they? But she and Percy would come back better than before. It would be something different, and she didn't mind; she'd already been his wife for weeks now, if she counted back and really thought. And honestly: how much would change, apart from shifting responsibility, legalities? Nothing.
All those times... The irreversible line. There was nothing more important than the place where they vanished into eachother. She'd been frightened then, noticing the lack of definition when it came to Percy's life and her own. She'd been frightened to think that such a thing could happen, when you weren't watching closely enough -- and even when you were. She'd had to erase the thought before it grew into something that couldn't be cut down. But then...
Cho didn't mind. Cho didn't mind. They'd be saying what they had to say now, forever and i do and everything they'd decided. It would be nothing like she expected, and Cho didn't mind. It would be difficult. It would be painful, sometimes -- but the best things were. The best things were. They'd make love in the Chinese countryside. When the villagers stared him down for height and genetics, she would smile and wave. Who knew? Who knew?
In the mirror, she looked lovely. And ... For a moment, there was everything: a bubble of happiness blew and burst below her heart, like taffy, or dying.
I can't stop thinking about it, she realised. What else had she thought of, lately? I'm marrying you. I'm marrying you.
Once upon a time, you said you needed the air over the water to keep you awake.
In July. They'd struggled with loving eachother, or with what they'd supposed was love: it was hard to tell from up close, the trail of lip and jawline. Blurred in the tears on her lashes, or Percy's watch hands: those days they'd tried to pretend they were too busy to stay late, stay all night, and never come back again. She had tried to sound her feelings out in someone else's philosophy, and then they'd had to pull away from the words -- I want you, I need you, I love you, I love you -- only to burn in them later.
Cho was still burning, and now they would be married by the ocean. Where else could she wish her life away? No where. No where else.
Location: The flat...
Date: 3rd of April, 2000
Status/Warning: Closed.
Summary: Gold silk, truth, and the ocean.
Completion: Complete.
Cho lit up the golden dress: where the silk met her skin was a Valentine's day card, and there were already memories in this particular cut, the line where it met just above her knee. It would look nice at the grey of the beach. She didn't mind. She didn't care.
She didn't care if she would be cold.
It simply made sense -- walking without shoes, no perching on those high heels, bringing herself as she was and all done up in gold foil. Unwrap me, she thought to herself. The reflection in the mirror paused, hands at hips; she'd painted the nails a muted pink, something that put her paler than she remembered, closer than close. Cho had the idea that if she couldn't be extravagant (not the wedding she'd imagined, but truer somehow, not a send-you-off rice parade) she would be simpler, as simple as she had a right to be. No shoes, no shirt, no problems --
Only, not quite.
Only: a silk dress, and an unbuttoned sweater, and her hair down to blow in the wind. She'd come up with vows. She'd come up right this time, come up promising. It would be something they'd never forget.
Am I happy?
Yes. Cho was happy in a way she'd never been before. There was no need to show it off, to prove to the world that it existed: everything about her was light, and she didn't always have to smile. Her body was a feather. She'd never danced, never practised, never lived so truly. Where there was fear, there was also trust; where there was fear, so lived the knowledge that fear did not omit love. Butterflies came from the same place as fear, after all. Hadn't she been frightened the first time they kissed? She hadn't wanted to admit that it was something she'd imagined. Something she wanted, more than anything.
But she'd admit now that she could imagine marrying Percy -- and that she would, that it was everything she'd ever asked for. Everyone grew nervous, when it came time to give their life away, slip their potential into suits and lace, set their future ring-shaped. Didn't they? But she and Percy would come back better than before. It would be something different, and she didn't mind; she'd already been his wife for weeks now, if she counted back and really thought. And honestly: how much would change, apart from shifting responsibility, legalities? Nothing.
All those times... The irreversible line. There was nothing more important than the place where they vanished into eachother. She'd been frightened then, noticing the lack of definition when it came to Percy's life and her own. She'd been frightened to think that such a thing could happen, when you weren't watching closely enough -- and even when you were. She'd had to erase the thought before it grew into something that couldn't be cut down. But then...
Cho didn't mind. Cho didn't mind. They'd be saying what they had to say now, forever and i do and everything they'd decided. It would be nothing like she expected, and Cho didn't mind. It would be difficult. It would be painful, sometimes -- but the best things were. The best things were. They'd make love in the Chinese countryside. When the villagers stared him down for height and genetics, she would smile and wave. Who knew? Who knew?
In the mirror, she looked lovely. And ... For a moment, there was everything: a bubble of happiness blew and burst below her heart, like taffy, or dying.
I can't stop thinking about it, she realised. What else had she thought of, lately? I'm marrying you. I'm marrying you.
Once upon a time, you said you needed the air over the water to keep you awake.
In July. They'd struggled with loving eachother, or with what they'd supposed was love: it was hard to tell from up close, the trail of lip and jawline. Blurred in the tears on her lashes, or Percy's watch hands: those days they'd tried to pretend they were too busy to stay late, stay all night, and never come back again. She had tried to sound her feelings out in someone else's philosophy, and then they'd had to pull away from the words -- I want you, I need you, I love you, I love you -- only to burn in them later.
Cho was still burning, and now they would be married by the ocean. Where else could she wish her life away? No where. No where else.