[drabble] Speak Now
Title: Speak Now
Author: Luna (dreamweavernyx )
Pairing: Ryunon
Genre: Fluff
Summary: Because you are not the kind of girl who should be marrying the wrong boy.
Notes: For Nicole (nikkaluvryu ).
Inspired by Speak Now (Taylor Swift).
~
He doesn’t even understand why he’s there.
All around him guests are laughing and tittering and socializing, chatting about their relation to the bride or groom. He feels extremely out of place, in his casual button-down shirt and slacks, here among the ladies in pretty gowns and men in fancy suits. But the plain outfit suits his purpose well, and nobody pays him a second glance.
He is stopped once, though.
“Friend of the groom?” a rather plump elderly lady in a horrid lacy outfit asks him.
“No,” he replies nervously, “friend of the bride.”
She peers at him down her nose, before sniffing and turning away, letting him sag in relief. Technically, while he was most definitely a friend of the bride, he had not been invited.
The ceremony starts, and Ryutaro realizes he’s glad that it’s free seating. Assigned seating would have immediately shown that he didn’t belong. He chooses a seat in the fifth row, nearest to the aisle.
He can see the groom standing at the front clad in a dashing white suit, looking every inch the perfect gentleman.
Too perfect, he thinks, like plastic.
The slim pale man at the organ begins to play a slow wedding march, as the doors at the back are flung open. To his ears, it sounds more like a death march.
The bride appears in a beautiful white gown of puffy chiffon and sleek velveteen, with a thin organza veil over her face and a beautiful bouquet clasped in her gloved hands.
She floats down the isle like a soft cloud, her face pale beneath the gauzy veil, to where the groom is standing with a wide smile on his face. When she reaches him, he grabs her hand and pulls her to his side.
“We are gathered here today,” the priest begins, “to witness the union of Chinen Yuri and Fukuda Kanon.”
And the congregation bursts into cheers.
He can see her face as she stands at the altar, and while everybody else is cheering he sees a flash of bitterness fly across her delicate features.
The memory of their last conversation is still fresh in his mind.
~
“Mother has arranged for me to marry Chinen-kun,” she had told him, voice filled with misery.
“Chinen? The short guy who’s the cousin of the boss?”
She had nodded morosely.
“Chinen-kun is going to inherit his father’s lucrative gym business. Mother says that if I marry him, Father can make a fortune producing exercise equipment for Chinen-kun’s business, and then I can stop working here and stay at home.”
The news had chilled his heart to the very core.
“But…doesn’t she know about…”
“Yes,” she had cut in, “Mother knows that we are dating. But she sees no profit the family business can gain from me marrying you, so she decided the best way to stop me from seeing you was to arrange a marriage for me.”
“Can’t you just…run away from all this?”
“I wish I could,” she had whispered, biting her lip, “I wish I could. But who would take in someone running from her own family?”
“I would,” he had told her without hesitation, and she had smiled briefly.
The next day, she never came back to work.
~
The priest continues droning on and on, while she stands up at the altar with what he knows is a fake smile.
“Are there any objections,” he says at last, “to this union? Speak now, or forever hold your peace.”
There is a silence, and the priest smiles, about to continue on, when he finally gathers his courage and stands up.
“I object,” he says quietly, voice carrying all around the silent hall.
He can hear gasps of shock and outrage, and the stares of everybody seem to rake over his lithe frame, judging him.
Her eyes widen, and he can see her mouth his name.
The priest stares, jaw slack. It is obvious that he was only told to remember the wedding rites, but not what to do if somebody took the objection line seriously. But he doesn’t need to do anything, because in the next moment she is bowing her head hastily to the groom, and running off the altar.
He steps out into the aisle, and reaches out his hand like as if he is in a relay race. His warm hand wraps around her delicate gloved one, and they dash down the aisle towards the door in a flurry, before the stunned congregation can do anything.
“Close the door!” he can hear her father boom, but nobody is closer to the great open doors than them.
Her mother shrieking for her to stop is the last thing they hear before they make it outside, slamming the doors behind them.
“I should change,” she gasps, slightly out of breath.
“I figured you would,” he tells her, “but I don’t have your clothes so you’ll have to borrow some of mine.”
He passes her a pair of jeans and one of his old shirts, and she comes out of the toilet five minutes later looking completely different, with her hair down and makeup scrubbed roughly off and a bundle of fluffy white in her arms.
“What should I do with this?” she asks him, indicating the dress.
“Put it in the back seat. You’ll never know when you may need it again.”
She giggles and does so, and he opens the front passenger door of his car for her. They speed away from the church and onto the highway, leaving everything else behind.
“Ne, Ryuu-kun,” she says quietly, “thanks for coming to get me.”
He smiles softly, as the car drives off into the horizon.
“It’s nothing,” he replies.
You know I’ll always be there for you.
Author: Luna (dreamweavernyx )
Pairing: Ryunon
Genre: Fluff
Summary: Because you are not the kind of girl who should be marrying the wrong boy.
Notes: For Nicole (nikkaluvryu ).
Inspired by Speak Now (Taylor Swift).
~
He doesn’t even understand why he’s there.
All around him guests are laughing and tittering and socializing, chatting about their relation to the bride or groom. He feels extremely out of place, in his casual button-down shirt and slacks, here among the ladies in pretty gowns and men in fancy suits. But the plain outfit suits his purpose well, and nobody pays him a second glance.
He is stopped once, though.
“Friend of the groom?” a rather plump elderly lady in a horrid lacy outfit asks him.
“No,” he replies nervously, “friend of the bride.”
She peers at him down her nose, before sniffing and turning away, letting him sag in relief. Technically, while he was most definitely a friend of the bride, he had not been invited.
The ceremony starts, and Ryutaro realizes he’s glad that it’s free seating. Assigned seating would have immediately shown that he didn’t belong. He chooses a seat in the fifth row, nearest to the aisle.
He can see the groom standing at the front clad in a dashing white suit, looking every inch the perfect gentleman.
Too perfect, he thinks, like plastic.
The slim pale man at the organ begins to play a slow wedding march, as the doors at the back are flung open. To his ears, it sounds more like a death march.
The bride appears in a beautiful white gown of puffy chiffon and sleek velveteen, with a thin organza veil over her face and a beautiful bouquet clasped in her gloved hands.
She floats down the isle like a soft cloud, her face pale beneath the gauzy veil, to where the groom is standing with a wide smile on his face. When she reaches him, he grabs her hand and pulls her to his side.
“We are gathered here today,” the priest begins, “to witness the union of Chinen Yuri and Fukuda Kanon.”
And the congregation bursts into cheers.
He can see her face as she stands at the altar, and while everybody else is cheering he sees a flash of bitterness fly across her delicate features.
The memory of their last conversation is still fresh in his mind.
~
“Mother has arranged for me to marry Chinen-kun,” she had told him, voice filled with misery.
“Chinen? The short guy who’s the cousin of the boss?”
She had nodded morosely.
“Chinen-kun is going to inherit his father’s lucrative gym business. Mother says that if I marry him, Father can make a fortune producing exercise equipment for Chinen-kun’s business, and then I can stop working here and stay at home.”
The news had chilled his heart to the very core.
“But…doesn’t she know about…”
“Yes,” she had cut in, “Mother knows that we are dating. But she sees no profit the family business can gain from me marrying you, so she decided the best way to stop me from seeing you was to arrange a marriage for me.”
“Can’t you just…run away from all this?”
“I wish I could,” she had whispered, biting her lip, “I wish I could. But who would take in someone running from her own family?”
“I would,” he had told her without hesitation, and she had smiled briefly.
The next day, she never came back to work.
~
The priest continues droning on and on, while she stands up at the altar with what he knows is a fake smile.
“Are there any objections,” he says at last, “to this union? Speak now, or forever hold your peace.”
There is a silence, and the priest smiles, about to continue on, when he finally gathers his courage and stands up.
“I object,” he says quietly, voice carrying all around the silent hall.
He can hear gasps of shock and outrage, and the stares of everybody seem to rake over his lithe frame, judging him.
Her eyes widen, and he can see her mouth his name.
The priest stares, jaw slack. It is obvious that he was only told to remember the wedding rites, but not what to do if somebody took the objection line seriously. But he doesn’t need to do anything, because in the next moment she is bowing her head hastily to the groom, and running off the altar.
He steps out into the aisle, and reaches out his hand like as if he is in a relay race. His warm hand wraps around her delicate gloved one, and they dash down the aisle towards the door in a flurry, before the stunned congregation can do anything.
“Close the door!” he can hear her father boom, but nobody is closer to the great open doors than them.
Her mother shrieking for her to stop is the last thing they hear before they make it outside, slamming the doors behind them.
“I should change,” she gasps, slightly out of breath.
“I figured you would,” he tells her, “but I don’t have your clothes so you’ll have to borrow some of mine.”
He passes her a pair of jeans and one of his old shirts, and she comes out of the toilet five minutes later looking completely different, with her hair down and makeup scrubbed roughly off and a bundle of fluffy white in her arms.
“What should I do with this?” she asks him, indicating the dress.
“Put it in the back seat. You’ll never know when you may need it again.”
She giggles and does so, and he opens the front passenger door of his car for her. They speed away from the church and onto the highway, leaving everything else behind.
“Ne, Ryuu-kun,” she says quietly, “thanks for coming to get me.”
He smiles softly, as the car drives off into the horizon.
“It’s nothing,” he replies.
You know I’ll always be there for you.