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#minimalist bride
moonfirebrides · 1 month
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@lesisstyle
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merrybrides · 1 year
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Minimalist Rustic Wedding
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There is beauty in simplicity and the concept of a minimalism is hitting the wedding scene. When planning a wedding, there are so many things to consider, from floral arrangements and a venue, to your wedding style and photographer. You may think you need elaborate centerpieces or layers of linens, but a less is more approach can be just as stunning! If those over-the-top details aren’t for you, keep reading to see minimalist wedding ideas for the rustic bride.
Set The Tone
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Minimalist couples can set the tone for their wedding by choosing neutral shades for invitations and decor. Consider adding a variety of textures, fresh greenery, or metallic details to add personality while keeping your color palette subtle. The small, simple, thoughtfully planned touches will go a long way in creating the thematic tone you want every guest to enjoy
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Minimalist Accents
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Your sweetheart table is one way to add a personalized touch to your special day. Keep things simple by going bare with your tabletop and adding rustic decor elements such as candles and fresh blooms, or even add a pop of color with linens that match your wedding colors.
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Intentional Details
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When going for a minimalist wedding theme, choosing intentional details can make all the difference. Well thought out table decor can stand out, even when keeping it simple. Minimalistic looks are achieved by thoughtful selection of a few key items — place setting, linens, and a centerpiece. 
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The addition of unique crystal and glassware accentuate any look from rustic to romantic and everything in between!
Simplify Your Ceremony
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There are plenty of stunning minimalistic backdrops that enhance the ceremony rather than overtake it. A meaningful selection of color, flowers, greenery, or fabric can create a simple but memorable backdrop. Fabrics are a great way to add elegance, and subtle accents like picture frames or fresh flowers add extra charm.
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Minimalist Cakes
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Minimalist cakes are both dreamy and delicious! Adding a flower or a small piece of greenery to a white naked cake creates a refined, minimalist look for your dessert table.
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A Gown to Match
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A dress with a sleek and modern silhouette with intricate lace details is a perfect option for a simple yet elegant rustic wedding day style. You can shine while rocking an understated look.
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prettyvic · 8 months
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Canon event
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jdmorganz · 4 months
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I don't know if anyone would be interested, but I run an etsy shop where I sell some of my prints that I have done with my art. I'm looking to fill my etsy with new art designs that I've done, so I've got what I currently have up for sale for 30% off. Please take a look if you are interested. These are just a few examples of my art that is there.
https://dmgstudioproductions.etsy.com
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staincastle · 1 year
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ㅤㅤ # halloween 𖤐 headers
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raspberry-beret · 2 months
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Film Weekend - The Princess Bride (1987)
In a story told by a grandfather to his sick grandson, a farmhand becomes a feared pirate and befriends various companions on his journey to save his true love from marrying a man she loathes.
"As you wish."
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Bridal Shower Invitation with 5 Background Colors or Edit Color.
Downloadable.
https://www.zazzle.com/z/auh9rr0a?rf=238828267405258083
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mahirsaeedart · 2 years
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“Re-Animated” Made this in October of last year in time for Spooky Season.
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shaadiwish · 1 month
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Modern brides like their mehndi design patterns to be stylish, minimalistic and chic
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betterhalfai · 1 year
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Mehendi designs are one of the most popular wedding traditions. These designs are usually made using henna paste. We have compiled a list of some of the best mehndi designs for brides.
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xgmara · 2 years
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Watching Father of the Bride and Dios Mío!!
I totally understand the parents on their attitude (I’m getting old) about given their kids a better version of they had. Same time, different time and attitude, Americanism with our culture merging.
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moonfirebrides · 1 year
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Alternative Bridal Wear For The Modern Bride
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We present our edit of unconventional wedding dresses and alternative bridal wear looks
Taking its name from the Italian word for bride, ‘Sposa 1’ marks Taller Marmo’s first foray into bridal wear, promising an exploration of ‘decoration, dressmaking and ceremony’ through ornate but contemporary designs which contain all the Milanese label’s hallmarks – namely, fringing and feathers in abundance. Drawing inspiration from 1960s jet-set style – Sophia Loren is noted as a perennial reference point – the intricately crafted collection comprises numerous options for the modern bride, from feather-trimmed mini dresses to signature kaftan-style gowns in alabaster white and cream, decorated with a plethora of detailing inspired by ‘nature’s gifts’ (flowers, corals, shells, et cetera). It lends the collection the ‘essence of couture’, not least in the fabrics themselves, several of which are made in Como in Italy on traditional looms dating back to the 1950s, ‘thus adding to the romance of the pieces and harking to the notion of love beyond time; everlasting’.
Gown by tallermarmo.com
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honeysilvas · 2 years
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Minimalist wedding invitation suite #wedding #minimalist #allseasons #flat #weddinginvitation #invitationsuite #modernminimalistic #simple #elegant #bride #invite #stationery #stationeryaddict (at Sarasota, Florida) https://www.instagram.com/p/Cc2uXKarOm_/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=
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sunshine-on-my-mind · 2 years
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The Mobster’s Wife
pairing: Mob!Lloyd Hansen x Plus size reader
a/n: hey cuties, this is my first time writing a Mob AU so I really hope you all like it. Please read the warnings before moving forward.
warnings: 18+ Minors Dni Mob AU, mentions of being a mobster and implied themes, no graphic details, angst, arranged marriage, crying, reader has body insecurities, implied body shaming (not from Lloyd), cooking and eating mentioned, doubts of infidelity (but nothing really), overthinking, fluff, soft moments, kissing, mention of sex but nothing happens, flirting. Let me know if I missed anything.
words: 5.3k
Comments and Reblogs are appreciated
-> Next Chapter ; Drabbles ; Asks
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Some say you are happiest on the day you become a bride.
In your case, you didn’t even know what to feel. A cloud of confusion wrapped you up when you walked down the aisle. All eyes on you, judging, measuring and probably calculating the outcome of this wedding.
Your eyes landed on the man you were destined to call your husband. His jaw sharp, beautiful blue eyes that had a sense of dominance in them, plump pink lips making a straight line, making it hard to read what might be going in his mind. But the feature that stood out most on his conventionally beautiful face, was a neatly trimmed moustache.
Everything was mechanical after that, the vows, the rings, the kiss, everything. Cheers and claps brought you out of the trance and it hit you suddenly that you were indeed married at that point. You were Mrs. Hansen.
Dinner involved loud toasts and speeches, mainly with the intention of impressing your husband. Everyone wanted to be in his good books, and why wouldn’t they? Lloyd Hansen was one of the most powerful and influential mobsters of the city. And the man lived up to his image.
Even though everything was so loud around you, you didn’t miss the absolute silence that surrounded your husband and you. And that silence continued when you found yourself in front of your new house, a massive one.
Being the daughter of a mobster, you were not unfamiliar with luxury and riches, sure you tried to stay away from all of it as much as possible because you didn’t want to be a part of the mobster life, in fact you wanted to get out of the city, the country if it was possible and live an independent life, away from it all.
But life had other plans, or rather your family. You hardly knew the man you got married to. His house spoke a lot about him, you realised as you walked inside his grand home. Dark hues all around, had a gorgeous glow, minimalistic and fashionable, a lot like the man who was walking beside you. The silence still there.
It was only broken when his men entered, they exchanged a few words, your focus on taking in the interiors of your new home.
When they left, your husband turned towards you, as if finally seeing you. The more his sharp gaze took you in, the more insecure you felt about yourself. You wrapped your hands around your upper body and looked down, but his gaze didn’t leave you yet. You felt heat rushing to your cheeks. The heat was gone in a moment as a cold voice reached your ears.
“Your room is upstairs, you can decorate it however you want to.” Lloyd spoke, his first words to you “My room is downstairs and I like my privacy. I don’t expect much from you but there are certain rules you must follow. There are areas in this house which are off limits. The rest you are free to explore unless I tell you not to, in case I have some important meeting here. Don’t go out of the house without informing me. I’ll arrange a car for you.”
There was complete lack of emotions behind his voice as he went on with the rules.
“I expect you the follow the rules, another thing I expect from you, but won’t demand, is for you to cook for me.” And with that Lloyd left you behind making his way upstairs. When he saw you weren’t following him, he stood in his place and sighed.
“Do I have to invite you? I’m showing you your room, hurry up I don’t have all the time in the world.” Lloyd didn’t try to hide his irritation.
So that was how your married life was supposed to be. Sure it was an arranged marriage, you weren’t expecting love. And you knew from what you had heard about Lloyd that he wasn’t exactly a soft man. You wondered what this marriage had in store for you, as you went up the stairs.
With a huff, Lloyd opened the door of your room. You both went inside. A big but dull room, not like the rest of the house you saw. Perhaps a guest room?
“This will be your room from now on. No one will disturb you here. If you want to buy something for your room, or something for yourself go ahead. here keep this card.” Lloyd gave you a credit card. You were still in a haze about everything. Was this how mob marriages were supposed to be?
Before the wedding one of your main concerns was to share a room and a bed with a stranger. At least that won’t be a problem. But you didn’t feel relieved at all, a pit of doubt formed in your stomach. Was this all happening because of your appearance? He must had known how you looked before agreeing to the marriage right? Or maybe you were overthinking and this was just how most of these marriages were. Mobsters had the image of being with many women. Perhaps Lloyd was one of them.
All you could do was nod to let your husband know you had understood everything. With that Lloyd left your room. As the door shut, a little harshly maybe, all the negative thoughts came rushing to you, and it didn’t help when you ventured in front of the mirror and saw yourself in your wedding dress. Alone, on your wedding night.
You used to have some insecurities about your body but you had tried your best to overcome them and you were definitely in a much better place. That was before you were left alone in that big room, on your wedding night.
It was difficult to explain, because not that you were eager to be sleeping with a stranger, a mobster, the worst ideas about what he might do to you and your body had already flashed in front of your eyes many times before the wedding. Mob families were full of misogyny, hence there was an unspoken, actually sometimes directly spoken rule of pleasing the husbands, and always doing what they said. You were nervous and scared about your wedding night, but even with those multiple thoughts, being left alone somehow didn’t cross your mind. Did Lloyd leave because he didn’t like the way you looked? Did he leave because he wasn’t at all attracted to you?
Lloyd didn’t even talk to you properly, or ask anything about you. Just informed you what he wanted to and left. You hardly knew him but you sure wanted to learn more about the man you were supposed to spend your life with, unfortunately or fortunately, that didn’t seem to be the case with Lloyd.
Your luggage was already there in your room and you changed into something comfortable. The bed was big, and soft. You lied down and covered up yourself with a blanket. Sleep sleep sleep sleep. Tried your best to fall in slumber. And you did, eventually after some turning and tossing.
The next morning you woke up and got ready for the day. You made your way down towards the kitchen. All it took was a little exploring, and you found some ingredients and utensils to make a simple breakfast. You didn’t know what Lloyd liked so you decided to stick to classics. Toast, eggs, bacon and a fresh pot of coffee.
Soon you could hear footsteps towards the kitchen, and the confidence the footsteps had, made it clear, it was none other than the owner of the house. You looked at him, even in the morning he was well dressed, hair neatly gelled back.
“Morning” you wished Lloyd and in return got a nod. “I’ve made breakfast, didn’t know what you like-” you couldn’t finish before Lloyd made his way towards the dining table, and started reading a newspaper. Clearly not interested in listening to whatever you had to say.
You took a deep breath, and tried to deny the little pang you felt in your chest. Serving the breakfast on a plate, and pouring coffee in a cup, you took it to the table and placed it in front of your husband. His face was still behind the newspaper.
“I hope you like the food.” And finally the newspaper was out of the way and Lloyd looked straight into your eyes. His piercing gaze had quite an effect on you. No further words were exchanged.
Lloyd started eating and you joined him on the table with your food and coffee. You wanted to start a conversation but didn’t know how. Lloyd’s focus was on the food, his phone chimed and his focus shifted towards his phone. You gave up and started eating.
He was soon done eating and with a quick ‘thank you’ he left you alone. Again.
And that became your routine for the next few days. You were alone most of the time, explored the house, the parts you were allowed to see of course, got acquainted with it. There was a Television in your room and you decided to binge watch something, to keep yourself distracted from other things.
The only time you weren’t alone was during breakfast and sometimes dinner, Lloyd generally accompanied you. He had informed you he was usually out during the day so no need to prepare lunch for him and that sometimes he would come home late so not to wait for him. You always prepared dinner for him though, when he was late you kept it in the fridge. Left a note there, to let him know.
One night, when Lloyd was late again, you decided to wait up. When he arrived it was quite late. You were sitting at the dining table, reading a book to stay up.
“What are you doing?” Lloyd’s deep voice made his presence known. You were quite invested in the book so you didn’t hear his footsteps.
“I’m- I was waiting for you to come home” Lloyd sighed and ran his fingers through his now slightly disheveled hair. “How was your day?” You asked bravely, hoping to get some response from him. Anything.
“I told you, you don’t have to stay up for me. You should have gone to bed.”
“I wanted to. I wanted to check on you.”
“You don’t have to.” Lloyd sighed again. “And to answer your question, I’m alive aren’t I? So you can get from that how my day was.” You gulped and looked down.
“I’ve made dinner.” You almost whispered.
“Yeah I can heat it and have it on my own, you don’t have to stay. You can go sleep.” Only if he understood that you wanted to stay.
Or maybe he did understand that, and that was why he wanted you to leave. Maybe he didn’t want to spend time with you. Not like Lloyd had not done or said anything to make you fee otherwise. The time you spent together felt obligatory or just to maintain decency. You wished him a good night and went back to your room.
There wasn’t much change in the following few weeks, except you stopped trying to make conversation with your husband. You did what you were supposed to and kept to yourself.
“I have a party to attend today” Lloyd spoke while you two were having breakfast. Why was he informing you suddenly? He hardly ever told you his plans for the day. Was he- was he inviting you to go with him? You got lost in your thoughts and Lloyd tried to figure what you might be thinking.
“You’re invited as well but you don’t have to go, I’m don’t think you’ll like the company.” Oh, it wasn’t an invitation. You nodded. Of course Lloyd didn’t want you there. Why would he? He would probably be embarrassed if he was seen with you. The man was quite attractive, gorgeous beautiful ladies were desperate for him. God they’d probably lick his wounds if he just spared them a glance. There was no way he would want to be seen with you.
You let out an ‘okay’ and focused on eating. Lloyd could sense something going on in your head but he didn’t know you enough and shouldn’t assume anything. As usual he was finished eating before you and he left the table with his usual ‘thank you’.
Sleep felt like a distant thought that night. Your mind filled with thoughts of Lloyd and what he might be doing in the party. Did he have a mistress, or many? Was that another reason he didn’t want you at the party, would she be there?
You desperately tried to remove those thoughts from your mind and think about positive things, but you didn’t find any. Eventually your mind got tired of thinking and let you sleep.
The next morning you had breakfast alone. No sign of Lloyd. Later you got a call from him.
“I’ll come home early today, I have a meeting in the evening. I’ll have some people over. And I don’t want you to come down tonight when the meeting takes place, understood? Stay in your room.” And as soon as he was done speaking he hung up the phone.
The rest of the day went by quickly and soon it was evening. You had already prepared dinner so that you won’t have to go down later. Unfortunately you didn’t bring up any of that food to your room.
It was getting late and you were getting hungry. Maybe if you quickly grabbed some food it won’t be a problem. Besides, the meeting was taking place in the office, which was far away from the kitchen.
You silently went down and opened the door of the fridge, but before you could do anything, an angry, very angry Lloyd appeared behind you.
“Do you not know how to follow simple instructions?”
You kept quiet, looked away.
“Answer me. I don’t like repeating myself.”
“I’m sorry I just-“
“You’re sorry? What the fuck am I supposed to do with that? I told you not to come down. It was a simple and clear instruction. Are you that dumb?”
And the angrier his tone got, the more you lost control of your emotions.
“I-“ You looked at him with teary eyes.
“Are you fucking crying right now? Is that supposed make me feel bad when you’re the one who didn’t follow instructions? You know what, I’m done talking to you. Go up to your room and cry all you want there. Just not in front of me. I have a meeting to get back to. I don’t have time-“ The tables turned, and it was Lloyd who couldn’t finish his sentence this time. You ran past him. Went up to your room as quickly you could and shut the door.
Lloyd sighed and went back to his meeting. You on the other hand cried your heart out. Everything piled up together and you couldn’t hold it in any longer. In that moment you truly realised how alone you were. You had no one, and your husband hated you.
When Lloyd’s meeting got over, he went to the kitchen. As soon as he opened the door of the fridge to get his dinner, he realised there was another container of food, resembling the one kept for him.
Oh fuck. You must had come down to get your dinner. Lloyd closed the fridge and made his way up to your bedroom. He wasn’t sure what he would do or say, but his feet were moving on their own towards your room, before his mind could process much.
As he stood outside your room, he could hear your cries. Lloyd didn’t feel much for people, but something about you was breaking all his walls and he was nervous about it. He barely knew you. Lloyd didn’t trust people easily. That didn’t mean it didn’t affect him at all to see you cry. To hurt you unintentionally. He was just trying to protect you from any kind of possible danger.
Lloyd realised that damage was already done and it would be better to give you space. That was how your husband always tried to make you feel comfortable, by giving you space. If he only knew it was having the exact opposite effect.
The next day you didn’t show up for breakfast. Lloyd found the kitchen empty as well as the dining table. He realised he had royally fucked up. Or maybe you were simply late? But you were never late.
Lloyd decided to wait for you. His day was comparatively less packed. An hour turned into two. Still there was no sign of you. With a deep sigh. Lloyd made his way up to your bedroom. He knocked on your door.
You woke up early in the morning after crying yourself to sleep last night. But you didn’t feel like leaving your room. You were still wrapped up in your blanket when you heard the knock on the door. Maybe Lloyd was angry because you didn’t make breakfast, but to be fair you didn’t really care about it at that moment. Dragging your feet towards the door, you opened it.
Your eyes were puffy due to crying. But you made sure not to drop a single drop of tear in front of your husband. No words came out of you, you didn’t have anything to say to be fair.
“You should get something to eat.” Lloyd managed to speak out, his voice had no anger. A little concern maybe but you were too upset to notice.
“I don’t feel like eating”
“But you-“ Lloyd cleared his throat “you haven’t eaten anything since yesterday” A humourless chuckle left your mouth.
“That doesn’t concern you does it? It’s not like you care.”
“Doesn’t matter if I care or not” Lloyd replied.
“You don’t care, just admit you don’t. Admit that you are embarrassed by me and that’s why you didn’t want anyone to see me. That’s why you were so adamant about me not going down wasn’t it? You are ashamed of me.” Your voice was slowly getting louder.
“You think I asked you to stay in your room because I’m ashamed of you? The people who were attending the meeting were dangerous people, bad people, I wanted you to stay here so that you were safe. I was trying to protect you.”
“Really? Everyone is afraid of you, what possibly could those people have done?”
“Well I’m not going to justify my decisions. It’s my responsibility to protect you and that’s what I was doing.”
“Fine, even if that was the case yesterday, what about the day before, when you didn’t want me to go to that party, huh? You even said I was invited, still didn’t take me with you, why? I’ll tell you, it’s because you are ashamed of me.”
“The only reason I didn’t take you with me is because I have heard you don’t like the mob world. I thought this marriage is already a burden for you and that I shouldn’t trouble you more by making you attend these parties.” Lloyd spoke loudly but only to make his point. But he wasn’t angry at you, he was angry at himself for making you feel that he might be ashamed of you. That wasn’t the case at all. Lloyd knew this marriage was just a deal, between two Mob families. Of course it wasn’t an ideal marriage, and whatever he had heard about you, from his different sources, was that you didn’t want to belong in this world of violence, but unfortunately you got married into it. So giving you space felt like he was doing you a favour.
Lloyd wasn’t always proud of everything he did but he knew it was necessary. That made him believe the less you knew about him, the less you would dislike him. He didn’t want his wife to dislike him, or worse, be scared of him. Hence pushing you away seemed like the only reasonable thing to do.
But in that moment, Lloyd realised keeping you at distance had a reverse effect than what he had intended.
“I’m not ashamed of you. I didn’t realise you felt like that.” You kept quiet, still looking away “Hey look at me.” And you did.
“There is actually another party tonight, I wasn’t gonna go anyway, but if you want to, we can both go together.” You weren’t really in the mood to attend a party, but if it was just crumbs you were gonna get as hopes of spending time with your husband, then you were gonna take them.
��Alright. We can go together.” Came your reply, and Lloyd gave you a nod.
“Let’s have breakfast now come on.”
“You haven’t had breakfast yet?” You asked and he shook his head.
“What do you wanna eat?“ You asked.
“I was thinking about cooking today. Do you like pesto eggs?”
For the first time in your married life, you didn’t feel that distant to your husband. It wasn’t like you both talked a lot, hardly in fact, still it felt like the air around you was a little more relaxed than usual.
The pesto eggs Lloyd made were truly very delicious.
“This is so good.” You commented without looking up from your plate. Lloyd smiled.
Your husband had some work to do, he went to complete them in his home office, while you decided to do something about your current cried out appearance. You were nervous about what to wear for the party.
Finally settled on a long black dress that wasn’t too tight, or too loose, just the perfect fit, most importantly one that looked pretty good, and made you feel comfortable.
When Lloyd saw you in that dress it was very hard for him to not keep staring at you. You always looked so cute but tonight, wow.
“You look nice.” You weren’t used to many compliments. And thus you didn’t really know how to respond to them and decided to stick with the classic response, ‘thank you’
“You look nice too.” It was true, actually Lloyd always looked so handsome. You would be lying if you said you haven’t stared at him from time to time when he wasn’t looking.
The car ride to the party was mostly silent. Both of you stole glances when you thought the other wasn’t looking. One time you caught Lloyd looking at you and you couldn’t help but feel shy under his gaze. Before getting out of the car Lloyd finally broke the silence.
“As I had said earlier, these people might not be the best company for you, but since we are here, let’s try to have a good time. But if something happens, if you feel uncomfortable or even boring, just let me know and we’ll leave. Alright?” You nodded as a smile appeared on your face. Maybe he did care about you.
The party was truly nothing you had ever seen or experienced. Mobsters, rich businessmen, influential people everywhere, not to forget the gorgeous women adding to the grandeur of the party. And the air carried a distinct smell of alcohol mixed with hints of danger.
It was all kind of overwhelming, and something about the party wasn’t sitting right with you, maybe simply because it was all new to you, and also because Lloyd rightly said those people weren’t definitely your ideal company.
Lloyd introduced you to some people before excusing himself when he was called by others. You tried roaming around but the way most people looked you up and down, scanning, wondering how you were chosen as the lucky one to be Lloyd Hansen’s wife made you feel uneasy.
You tried to ignore the whispers and poorly covered laughs, you even heard things like ‘her father must be very influential and rich if Lloyd married someone like her’ and ‘of course this marriage is nothing but a deal, look at them, they don’t fit together’
Their words finally got to you when your eyes began to moisten. You made your way towards the bar, but there were too many people present. Who were you kidding when you thought you can belong in this world? Most of those people were either too heartless, too misogynistic or too full of themselves. Definitely not your type of crowd. Those people only understood money and power.
Your eyes automatically started scanning for Lloyd. You didn’t have to look much, as the man appeared right beside you.
“What’s wrong?” His question made you look away to wipe off any sign of tears, his words still fresh in your mind which had made you decide never to cry in front of him.
“I’m fine.”
“You’re not fine. Did someone say anything to you?” His voice a mixture of concern and anger, anger which you could feel wasn’t directed towards you.
You shook your head. Technically it wasn’t a lie, no one said anything directly to you. Lloyd didn’t push you more on that topic. The way you avoided his eyes and fidgeted with your hands made it quite evident that no matter what happened, you didn’t feel comfortable in that atmosphere.
“We’re leaving, come on. This party is too boring anyway.”
The ride back home was almost nerve wracking. Would Lloyd be angry at you? He did say you probably won’t like the party but you still wanted to go. And now you’re leaving quite early. Although Lloyd hadn’t shown any signs of anger towards you, the slight tick in his jaw made you feel worried.
As soon as you were home, you decided it’s best to get to the point and apologise before things could go wrong any further.
“I’m sorry.” Your random apology caught Lloyd off guard.
“Huh? What are you apologising for?” His question made you question yourself. Exactly, why were you? Except the part that you didn’t take Lloyd’s suggestion and still went to the party, you didn’t exactly do anything wrong, did you?
“I- I don’t know. I’m sorry to disappoint you I guess.”
“You didn’t disappoint me.” Lloyd took a deep breath. “Can I ask you something, answer me honestly, why did you want to go to that party? It was clear you didn’t feel comfortable there, and that those assholes aren’t exactly your ideal type of people. You have grown up in a mob family, I’m sure you know how those people can get, and I’m also sure you are not like them. So why?” You gulped. Lloyd definitely knew more about you than you expected, or he very quickly had understood a lot about you.
“I get so alone in the house. I didn’t want to feel so lonely, I wanted to spend time with you.” You answered without beating around the bush. Not that it didn’t make you extremely nervous to say those words. A smile, no a smirk appeared on Lloyd’s face.
“Hmm so my pretty wife wanted attention from me? If that was the case you could have just asked for it” Lloyd came closer to you with each word. But then the playfulness of his tone shifted to something more caring “Did I actually make you feel so alone?” You nodded
“Truth be told, I felt giving you space was what you needed. I know it’s not easy giving up your life and start living with a stranger, that to with a mobster. It felt like the less you know about me the better it would be. But now, I guess it wasn’t such a good idea.” Lloyd confessed and gently held your hand. “I’ll try to do better from now on.”
“Lloyd, you know, I thought you kept your distance from me because of the way I look, many people have implied I’m not beautiful before, so I got used to it. And when you didn’t interact much with me, even though I tried, I thought that was the case.“
“Who told you you’re not beautiful? Did someone insult you? Give me names, you know I can-“ Your chuckle stopped him mid-speech. You couldn’t help it, you liked the way he suddenly got all protective over you.
“Listen, you are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen and you have the most beautiful heart. Far too beautiful for an asshole like me.”
In that moment, he didn’t feel like Mobster Lloyd, but just your husband.
“Now coming back to the part where you wanted my attention,” Lloyd teased and you couldn’t help they way you felt warm. Your husband had a smirk on his face as he took in your form.
“How about you go get changed and come to my room?” A soft gasp escaped your lips on hearing that. Lloyd chuckled.
“Don’t worry I’m just inviting you to my room, not asking to have sex with you,” he paused and leaned closer to your ear “Unless you want to.” Shivers ran down your body, because of the proximity and his words. Involuntarily you bit your lip and tried to form a reply.
“No, um- not yet. I don’t even know you properly.”
“Well you don’t need to know someone to have sex with them wifey, hope you know that, hm?” Did the man know what he was doing to you? He definitely did, his cocky attitude and smirk made it clear.
“I know that, but you’re not just someone are you? You’re my husband, and I want to know you first.”
“You’re a smart girl, wifey. I like that.” A genuine smile graced Lloyd’s face “Alright then, freshen up and come to my room.” You nodded and quickly went to your room to get changed.
As you stood in front of Lloyd’s bedroom, you felt excited but also nervous, but before you could ponder much, Lloyd came out.
“Come on in” your husband held the door open for you. Lloyd’s room was not only big but matched his personality perfectly. “You look cute.” You weren’t sure what to wear so you decided to go with some comfy shorts and T-shirt.
“Thank you.” Lloyd motioned at the bed for you to get in.
“Make yourself comfortable.” You sat down on the bed while Lloyd lied down beside you.
“Are you planning to sleep like that?” he asked you with a chuckle. Well he had a point, so eventually you lied down beside him.
It all felt so foreign, and so weird to be sharing a bed with your husband more than a month later after getting married. You were feeling overwhelmed, happy and sad at the same time.
“What’s going on in that pretty head of yours? Don’t think too much okay? Let’s focus on this moment.” Lloyd tried to be as sweet as he could. “I’m happy you are here. I don’t really know how to apologise because I haven’t had to till now, but I apologise for being rude, and hurting you.” You gave him a smile.
“Can we try to be there for each other from now on?” The sincerity in your tone and the soft expression on your face made Lloyd feel things he didn’t realise he could.
“Yeah, let’s try that.” His answer was good enough for you.
After taking your permission, your husband softly wrapped his arm around you. You felt protected. And not alone.
Lloyd leaned in and waited till you gave him a nod, then attached his lips to yours. This was different than the first kiss you shared together, on your wedding day. It was full of care and compassion and didn’t feel obligatory.
In that moment you were hopeful about the future and what it brought for the two of you. Maybe married life won’t be so bad.
“Hey, let’s get some sleep now okay? You’ve had a long day.” It was true, you could feel the exhaustion in your body. You gave him a nod.
“Although before we sleep, I have a very important question to ask” Lloyd asked seriously and it made you look at him curiously.
“What do you think about my Moustache?”
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jdmorganz · 2 years
Photo
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For whoever may be interested, these are two of my newest minimalist art pieces of The Nightmare Before Christmas and Corpse Bride that I have done. They are both on sale at my etsy shop. Even if you can give my shop a like, it would be a lot! 
https://www.etsy.com/shop/dmgstudioproductions
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neiptune · 1 year
Text
I think there's been a glitch
c/w: 6k wc, wedding date trope, friends to (possible) lovers, mentions of alcohol, mentions of cheating, levi's smoothness has your brain short circuiting
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Just as expected: you’re hating every second of it.
You love your family, you really do. Doesn’t matter how loud and overexcited and nosy they are, it’s always nice to take a few days off to travel back home. Sometimes it’s for birthdays, minor special occasions, surprise visits. Nothing was spontaneous about this specific occasion, though. Train tickets were bought months in advance, your dress picked facetiming your mom (she insisted), your arrival highly anticipated by aunts and uncles and cousins and old friends all coming together for the most significant event of the century: your little brother’s wedding.
To be absolutely honest, the day had a good start. Waking up at dawn didn’t bother you, not with the nutritious breakfast your mom had prepared and the excitement stirring behind your brother’s tense smile. The wedding was agreed to have a mix of traditional shinto-style (to please the bride’s family) and more laid back, western-style influences, something your family has always been accustomed to, given your dad’s roots.
The ceremony held at the shrine was emotional even for you. Hiromi looked gorgeous in her uchikake, gold threads and foil with motifs of waves and cranes standing out on a bright crimson base. You watched them drink the sake and exchange cups first, then vows and wedding rings. It was so hard to process than the man getting married was the same kid who once pooped himself in his crib at daycare and then proceeded to take off his diaper to play with the poop like it was play-doh. Sweet, sweet memories.
Everything started going downhill at the fancy hotel where the reception was set to be held.
The convention room is blinding in its beauty: white pillars, draping fabrics, pretty fairy lights and elegant floral arrangements compliment the venue and the minimalist but luxurious style your families decided to go with. You’re not foreign to wealth, your parents have worked hard to grant you and your sibling a comfortable life and you’re grateful for them. What you don’t like about your family, is how for your aunts and uncles and cousins, everything should constantly be tied to money and profit. Which is why they all turn up their noses when you reply to the dreaded “what’s your job again?” question. Which is why, at every family reunion, you’re forced to sit with your younger cousins and take part in the salary conversation (they could literally compare and brag for hours about raises and bonuses and working overtime and paid vacations). Which is why Aiko, already CEO of a join-stock company at her young age, had first introduced you to one of the employees from the financial department.
Floch Forster was certainly attractive, a real gentleman who’d take you out for fancy dinners, casual dates and fun rides on his flashy, red porsche cayenne. You liked him but your family had always liked him more, your brother going out for drinks with him, your dad inviting him over more and more frequently to watch baseball games or ask for help for the restoration of his old kawasaki ninja, a project he’d been working on for a while.
In the end, the relationship simply didn’t work out and you broke up with him in the most amicable way possible, the time spent together still worth cherishing. You were just too different from each other: his interests not matching yours, his friends way too stuck-up, his parents looking at you like you were some kind of gold digger.
But that’s when he became petty, cruel even, mocking your dreams, deriding your aspirations, sharp edged phrases and words thrown your way so harshly they still dance around your brain from time to time.
Are you surprised by his presence at your brother’s wedding? No. You knew he’d be invited, they’re still friends and you never really told your sibling how the separation actually went down. Is it shocking that he’s here with a pretty brunette anchored to his arm? Also no. He might be an asshole but he’s hot and rich, two qualities weighing pretty damn heavily on the bachelor scale. He’s also the main reason why you’d asked your painfully stoic, blasé friend to accompany you to the reception.
Yes, it was both a childish and desperate move, but you were willing to take drastic measures to save face before your very much extended very much elitist very much expectant family after the fatal phone call with your mom where you’d suddenly blurted out that you’d bring a special someone with you to the wedding.
Your love life (aka currently a big big void made of emotional unavailability & crippling loneliness) was yet another topic open to be attentively scrutinized by those around you. Normally you don’t mind, you really don’t, but just this one time you wanted it to be different. As much as you try not to let it get to you, the facts are that your younger brother is now married, your hot rich ex boyfriend has probably already proposed to his new girlfriend, you still haven’t been given the raise you were expecting and it plainly just sucks to be alone at weddings. It’s the fourth one you have attended on your own now and you can tell by your aunt’s sympathetic gaze and your cousins’ knowing giggles that you’re not gonna be able to push the he had to attend an emergency meeting with external partners lie any longer.
Frustration makes your stomach churn. Why couldn’t he have indulged you just this once?
“Oh, come on”
“No”
“Please!”
“Still no”
“I can beg”
“You’ve been begging for the past ten minutes”
“I can beg better?”
Levi’s resolute glare didn’t soften like it did on the rare occasions when he accommodated your requests.
“Why do you even need this?”
You heaved a deep sigh over his obstinacy, index finger lazily tracing the edge of the steaming cup in front of you. You’ve always been a coffee person but his is the only tea you’ll drink.
“D’you want the honest answer or the pathetic, moping one?”
He raised an eyebrow with a far too evident interest that had you rolling your eyes.
“Both”
“Well, if you must know, it’s because I’m a lame, lonely, disappointment of an adult who’s scared of facing her family’s overcritical comments and knowing glances at her younger sibling’s wedding” you paused to take a deep breath “that and the fact that I already lied and said I was gonna bring someone and my perfect ex everyone loves so much is gonna be there”
Levi slowly took a sip from his own cup, the classic bergamot flavor notes lingering with tantalizing velvety softness on his tongue.
“They both sound pathethic and moping to me”
You shrugged with a weak smile.
“They’re both honest, too”
“You’re gonna be fine” he pushed the little plate of shortbreads towards you.
“Did you hear the part about my perfect ex?” nevertheless, you accepted the cookie offer and, much to your friend’s horrified expression, dipped one into your tea prior to taking a bite.
“Give him my love” Levi ignores your frown and, more importantly, the annoyance he felt listening to you belittling yourself so blatantly.
“Okay” a defeated sigh leaves your lips as you take another cookie “not sure why I thought you’d get it”
“The fuck is that supposed to mean?”
Mouth still full, you gestured vaguely with your hands, tiny crumbs attached to your fingertips catching his attention for a split second before you speak again.
“Why would you? You’re a functioning adult. Should’ve asked someone as fucked up as me, maybe Reiner from the marketing department will—”
“A functioning adult?” Levi cut in, tone oozing with skepticism “that’s new. You usually refer to me as the clean freak with a stick up his ass”
“Which you are” your clarification is met with another glare “but you wouldn’t understand what being lame means”
“How so?” he challenged, eyes narrowed and some sort of weird warmth in the pit of his stomach he didn’t know how to shake off.
“You have your shit together, Levi. M’sure your family wouldn’t shoot sympathetic gazes your way if you showed up to your brother’s wedding on your own”
“I don’t have a brother”
“Not the point” you let out an obnoxious groan as you slightly pushed the empty cup away and dropped your head to rest on your overlapped arms, forehead pressing on the soft fabric of your sleeve. Levi sat still, grey eyes fixed on you.
“You’re not lame, idiot” no one else would’ve been able to tell that his tone had gone softer “I’m not dating anyone either and you still think I’m a functioning adult”
Exasperated, you turn your head so that your cheek is now pressed to your wrist as you glare at him.
“But that’s your choice. You don’t like anyone. While I had three of my coworkers come to my desk just to ask who the handsome dude passing by to bring me a homemade bento box was”
Half a smile dripping with smugness tugged at his lips, one that caused you to roll your eyes again.
“Don’t even” you warn, already gagging at the idea of him considering to visit you at work more often “forget I said anything. I’ll handle it”
As Levi inched across the table to flick your forehead and then got up to collect your cups, you had to quickly whisk away the thought of how much your family would have genuinely liked someone like him too.
On second thought, it’s not really fair to blame him. You might not be a greatly functioning one, but you’re still an adult. You can face something as trivial as the disappointment of multiple generations of your family, right? Either way, it would’ve felt wrong. It would’ve been awkward. Levi is stiff, way too cold, the opposite of cordial. He would hardly be credible as the good friend he actually is, let alone pass for a boyfriend. Has he ever even dated someone? You’re sure he has, given how weirdly popular he is. Yeah, there was one girl, what was her name again? Petra? Ugh, he hardly shares anything truly personal with you anyway. Sure, you can guess he’s a good partner. Handsome, kind, talented enough to cook killer meals, maybe even good in bed. It just wouldn’t hurt him to be a little more… amicable. But maybe that’s what women find attractive? The fact that he’s like this weird, interesting secret thing to continuously discover and unwrap until it suddenly turns into the perfect, passionate lover any woman wants to end up with?
The champagne you’re downing at the hotel bar is proving to be a wonderful ally, although your mind currently seems to be wandering a little. Or it was, at least until a familiar, awfully close and quite frankly unsettling voice causes a harsh return to the pathetic reality you’re trying to escape.
“Drowning your sorrows in alcohol? You haven’t changed at all” the venomous smile on his face is so painfully familiar it has your insides twisting right away.
“I’m really not in the mood, leave me alone” you mutter, not even sparing him a glance as you stubbornly focus on the golden bubbles popping in your freshly filled flute.
But Floch takes a seat right next to you and elegantly orders two martinis.
“Shaken, not stirred” he adds, to live up to yet another clichè. You can hardly suppress a snort.
“I would argue you already are. Alone, I mean” the rhythmic drumming of his fingers on the mahogany counter distracts you for a few seconds. When your gaze finally meets his, the fake sympathy glistening mischievously in his amber eyes almost has you barfing on the spot.
“Where’s your trophy wife? Is she even legal?”
Unperturbed, Floch smiles sweetly at you.
“She reminds you of yourself, doesn’t she? A young dove in need of rescue, held captive by the wrong guy” he inches closer, smile growing wider “but she’s nothing like you. You’re too exhausting to love, no one in their right mind would choose that”
And just like that, memories that cut as deep as razors make their way back to you right then and there.
If you really want to lose weight you shouldn’t eat the free bread at restaurants.
I feel like you’re faking this just to make me feel guilty.
You’re not that attractive anymore, you know that?
I’m sorry you feel that way.
Could’ve done so much better than you all this time.
Now I don’t feel so bad about having cheated.
The flute in your hand might very well shatter from how tightly you’re holding it, knuckles white as two drinks gracefully slide in front of you. This is exactly what you wanted to avoid, not him entirely but letting him know that he can still get under your skin.
“Fuck you” in a final, desperate attempt at playing off your discomfort as indifference, you hold him level in your gaze, a boldness so weak it has him chuckling.
“Am I interrupting something?”
You both turn to your right, the shock laced into your features comical enough to be met with a patient, slight smile.
Levi looks nothing less than dashing in his black suit, hands buried in the pockets of pants you wouldn’t even think he’d own. Since you’re pretty sure the alcohol has you hallucinating at this point, you open your mouth to voice your surprise, Floch’s presence long forgotten and filed away at the back of your mind. But right before you can sabotage yourself with dumb, unnecessary inquiries, Levi takes a step forward and with one, swift motion, cradles your cheek in his hand to gently press his lips to your forehead.
“Sorry I’m late” he murmurs, fighting back another smile before the dumbstruck way you keep looking at him.
“We haven’t met” Levi’s eyes follow the voice and flicker to the person sitting next to you. That’s when you snap back to reality once again. Goddamn, maybe the champagne wasn’t that good of an ally after all.
“We haven’t” he replies and Floch introduces himself, offering a hand that never gets shaken. Levi gives him a nod instead, a silvery gaze cold as steel you’ve never seen him direct to anyone. Perhaps that’s why it makes you shiver.
“Should we go? I’d like to meet your parents” his voice is kind as he looks at you again and you accept the support of his hand to hop down from the barstool. He doesn’t let go as he guides you away from the hotel bar and lightly squeezes your hand even if it’s cold and clammy.
“How are you here? When… why?” you whisper, still unable to shake off the shock of his sudden, unexpected presence.
“Stop asking dumb questions and play your part”
That’s more like it, you think. Thank god for the infuriating, irritating tone and impatient glare. Their familiarity will certainly be enough to ground you despite the warmth you can still feel on your forehead, right where his lips were pressed a few seconds earlier.
But then he looks at you again, head slightly tilted to the side, eyes slowly taking in your figure so blatantly, in a way so uncommon for him, it has the same warmth from before exploding in your chest as well.
“You look very nice, by the way”
Fuck being grounded, apparently.
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The champagne is no longer buzzing in your veins but it might as well be since your mind feels all over the place and you haven’t had a single second to collect your thoughts. Not in the middle of so many introductions, your mother’s obnoxious questions, your very much tipsy aunt’s inappropriate jokes, the microphone you had to approach and the speech you had to give in front of hundreds of people, one of them always focused on you with such intensity you won’t have to rewatch the videotape at family reunions to know that words came out ungraceful and wrong.
To be honest, the most unsettling thing is how smoothly the whole thing is going. It’s not weird, it’s definitely not awkward and he seems to be in complete control. Staggered, you’re left watching with wonder floating in incredulous eyes, a Levi you don’t think you’ve ever met before. It’s so effortless, the way he speaks to people he’s never met before and manages to come off as interesting, witty, charming. He’s smiling, he’s even respectfully offering elegant chuckles to uncomfortably personal questions and stories you just know he doesn’t actually think are funny.
As you dine at the table filled with curious old friends and noisy cousins, for the first time able to stay silent as all the attention is directed towards someone other than yourself, a weird thought crosses your mind. Levi, your friend Levi, fits so well. He’s perfectly at ease around chatty strangers, bold roses, tea lights and candles in clear metallic holders. How’s that even possible? The Levi you know, your Levi, curses under his breath if his usual barista tries to make small talk. He grunts if the cashier at the cinema chirps an overly excited hope you enjoy the movie, sir. You literally know he’s once replied to one of his clients’ email with please stop hoping your email finds me well, it never does.
So who’s the person sitting next to you, warm knee flush against yours underneath the table, features relaxed, pink tinted cheeks, courtesy of the cabernet sauvignon you’ve been served? It has your head spinning, the thought of him enduring a 4-hour train trip (he hates trains) to reach a town he’s never been to (he hates Kobe and its humid, subtropical climate) to attend a wedding (he hates social gatherings) as your date. What had him changing his mind? When did he change it? How is he so good at coming off as this bundle of… of… confidence and magnetism and graciousness?
He’s been impeccable so far, going as far as to bring a shugi-bukuro envelope with 50.000 JPY inside as a wedding gift.
Isn’t that what they’d expect from the groom’s sister’s partner?
Clearly, you have every intention of giving him that money back. As soon as you recover from the sudden and absolutely unexplainable embarrassment you feel every time his eyes flicker to you during a conversation or the shudder that runs down your spine when his hand gently presses on the small of your back to guide you from one table to the other, as different family members and friends of yours excitedly motion you to approach them.
It doesn’t have anything to do with him specifically, you tell yourself. It’s just the shame you must be feeling at carrying out such a pathetic act in front of everyone, it’s the awkwardness of having forced one of your closest friends to go out of his way to support your stupid, childish plan that now has you feeling all weird and vulnerable. Levi is not being his usual self and that makes you uncomfortable because you’re not allowed to be your usual self in turn. No sarcastic remarks, no witty comebacks, not a drop of the usual teasing you enjoy annoying him with.
It’s not him, it’s the whole setting. That’s what you tell yourself when Levi asks you to dance.
“Why?” you come off as defensive and he furrows his brows, confused.
“Because it’s what couples do at weddings?”
“We don’t have to” you’re not sure what you’re doing at this point “you can’t even dance”
He huffs at that, inching a little closer to casually lift the strap of your cocktail dress, cool fingertips barely brushing the skin of your arm as they guide the thin length of fabric up to your shoulder. The simple, intimate gesture stirs something in you.
“Are you coming or not? He’s watching”
You follow his gaze and meet Floch’s, three tables to the left. At this point the thought of him seems so worthless, so distant in time, you don’t even care about his judgmental glare anymore. But you don’t have the chance to make that clear, because your date whispers a soft “come on” so close to your ear his voice seems to trickle down your spine just to make you shiver and then offers his arm as an invitation for you to get up.
Regular you would’ve mocked the gesture, called him a victorian ghost or something. Current you, on the other hand? Apparently she’s accepting the support of his arm and can barely register Aiko’s excited squeal as she follows him all the way to the different couples already filling up the middle of the convention room, too disoriented to even remember she is the one who can’t dance. Still, the upbeat rhythm of the song being played is familiar enough to give you a false sense of security: you can wing it. Until you can’t. Because right as you position yourself in front of your friend with a tense smile, the familiar beat is abruptly taken from you. The music doesn’t stop, it just has the audacity to change into an excessively romantic, exceptionally slow, sappy track.
But Levi doesn’t look as dazed as you. He doesn’t waver as he pulls you close with one swift motion, right hand warm on your back while you barely have the time to balance yourself, fingers tightening around the fabric of his jacket, right above the shoulder.
“You’re being weird” he clasps your other hand, one eyebrow raised in that overcritical way of his.
“You’re being weird” you parrot back.
“What d’you mea—fuck” he curses as quietly as possible when you stomp on his foot, looking down for the first time to notice how weirdly and out of step you’re actually moving.
“Shit, sorry!” you, on the other hand, are not as quiet and attract the unwanted attention of the couple dancing nearby.
“What exactly are you doing?” Levi’s tone is familiarly mocking, which takes some of the weird awkwardness away.
“I’m not really good at this, okay?” you retort, praying your harsh reply remains private this time. Amused, he hums.
“No way”
“Shut up” you whine and accidentally step on his expensive leather shoe again, hard enough to make him hiss.
“Just follow my lead” Levi gives your left hand an impatient squeeze and you scoff with a theatrical ugh.
“Sexist”
He rolls his eyes but says nothing because you comply and honestly try to keep track of how he’s moving, intensely focused on not trampling on his foot again.
“Hey” his voice is dangerously soft once again “eyes on me”
Reluctantly, you look up from your feet and take a deep breath.
“Why are you this tense?”
“M’not a good dancer” you blurt the words out, as if to convince yourself. He’s noticed, of course he’s noticed. Idiot.
“Okay” Levi stops for a moment and gently grabs your wrists to guide your arms around his neck. He then positions his hands on your hips and applies the slightest pressure to guide your movements. “Better?” he asks and you know he’s just wondering if this is easier for you, but the dryness of your throat seems to be taking over your ability to speak. You resort to a simple nod as he sways to the beat, feet barely lifting while stepping from side to side. You get accustomed to the movement after a while and manage to move your body slowly back and forth, the comfort of not feeling like a wooden block allowing you to relax a little.
“How are you so good at this?” it almost sounds like you’re accusing him, must be why he cracks a smile.
“Took a few classes with Hange, they were obsessed and had no one else to go with”
You’re finally able to let out a genuine, incredulous laugh.
“I’m sorry, what? So you just joined? Goodness of your heart?”
Levi shrugs.
“They had to buy me lunch for a month. Totally worth it”
There’s mirth glistening in his eyes when the pressure of his hands changes slightly, the left one tightening on your waist to subtly guide you in the opposite direction. Has he danced like this with Hange as well? If yes, did they feel as flustered and ridiculous as you’re feeling? Probably not, because they’re friends and friends should not experience the weird body reactions you seem to be having at the moment, goosebumps blossoming underneath his fingertips, the staccato of your heartbeat, blood wooshing in your ears. Fuck.
“Tense again” his eyes are narrowed now, but not in his usual, threatening way. He’s studying you, looking for something he can’t seem to pinpoint amidst your dazed expression and sweaty hand. He would’ve been grossed out by anybody else’s palm but this is you, so Levi can’t really bring himself to give a shit.
“I’m sorry” you murmur and the sudden, sheepish route catches him off guard. You’re avoiding his gaze, eyes focused on something, somewhere over his shoulder.
“For what?”
“This whole charade” you whisper the last word, head hanging low just an excuse not to look at him “I’m so pathetic you felt bad enough to drop all your plans, come all the way here, be perfect and nice to everyone, spend so much money and I can’t even dance…” you sniffle, horrified by the sensation of being on the verge of bursting into tears in the middle of the dance floor.
Levi is silent long enough to prompt you to timidly look up from your shoes again. You’re worried he’s gonna be mad because what the hell, this is what you wanted. You asked him to do this for you and now it’s too late to whine about how sorry you are. But he doesn’t look mad. His features are unreadable as you return his gaze, which stirs a whole new kind of nervousness in you.
“I’m going to twirl you” the gentle warning takes you by surprise as Levi takes your hand from behind his neck, steps back a little and lifts your arm above your head. A bit stiffly, you turn around under it.
“Again” he prompts, arm already guiding you through another twirl. You comply, so clumsily a chuckle slips past your lips and Levi cracks another smile as you balance yourself against him, arms around his neck once again.
“See? You can dance” he mutters with a tone so soft it makes your heart squeeze.
“Please” you scoff, voice still a little broken that just won’t. Do.
Levi hums to himself, like he does whenever he’s trying to come to a decision.
“Let’s dip”
Your eyes comically grow in size.
“Let’s not?”
“I’ll do all the work” he playfully gives your hip a light squeeze to emphasize his words “you just have to let go”
“I’m not exactly good at letting go” you hope he can sense the warning in your tone but all you get is another eye roll.
“Yeah, I noticed” his tone, unlike yours, is weirdly serious “d’you trust me?”
Oh, well, putting it that way surely isn’t fair.
“Unfortunately, you’ve given me a reason or two to do that” you heave another sigh, defeated. Another smile tugs at his lips.
“I’m gonna do it slowly” he reaches behind his neck to grab your hand again, while his fingertips rise from your hip to your upper back.
“Twirl” Levi gently spins you again and his touch is featherlike when it glides down your side, grazes your stomach and settles on your lower back as you turn around, warm palm pressing firmly against it. The hand holding yours anchors your arm around his neck, then finds place on the nape of yours.
“Now, relax” it’s barely a whisper, so close you can’t hold back a shudder he pretends not to notice.
You soften your knees and then, with a movement so swift and natural, you’re turned to the side and pressed flush against him for a second, nestled in his embrace before you shut your eyes and Levi gently dips you, one of his strong arms secured around your waist to support your weight, the hand sustaining your neck tightening around your hair for a moment so brief you think you’ve imagined it.
He pauses as if you weigh nothing, then slowly brings you up again and you open your eyes, brows furrowing right as he lets completely go of you and the warmth of his arms is taken away so abruptly.
“You okay?” you didn’t think you’d be the one asking the question but something seems to be bothering him as he returns your confused gaze.
“Yeah. Can we take a break?” still weirdly well mannered, you find yourself thinking as you agree to make your way to your table again. Only he stops you right before you can take a seat next to Aiko, who’s blatantly gushing over you’re not sure what, precisely. Is it him? Or the weird dance that had you looking like a complete fool in front of everyone?
“How long before the cake?” he politely asks your cousin and she shrugs, not even attempting to hide the wide grin stretching her lips.
“Maybe around ten minutes”
“Permission to steal the groom’s sister for around ten minutes?”
Aiko’s chuckle isn’t enough to distract you from the tightening of your chest, something not entirely unpleasant swarming around in your stomach when he slips his fingers in between yours.
“Permission granted” she winks and you still, for the life of you, cannot understand why your heart flutters as you follow him outside the room, away from the party and the music and the chatter and all those happy, proud glances you’re no longer able to return because of how embarrassed you are by your own lie.
“Where are we going?” you bring yourself to ask, finding it exceptionally odd that he’s waiting for the elevator.
“My room”
“What? Why?”
Levi turns his head to look at you, eyebrows furrowing at your strangled tone.
“I forgot the wedding gift on the nightstand”
“Oh” you let out a nervous chuckle “right. And why d’you need me for that?”
“You look like you’re about to throw up, thought you could use a few minutes away from the crowd”
Well, he’s not wrong. But that doesn’t mean he gets to know.
“Dunno what you’re talking about” you flash him a fake smile and he skeptically hums as the doors open and you step inside.
Of course his room is located at the top floor of the building, where all the suites are. One thing about Levi is that he likes treating himself: whether it’s shopping from brands that produce top quality loose leaf teas, selecting premium suiting fabrics or always ordering the most expensive red wine at a restaurant, his taste is impeccable. He travels first class and only stays at 5-star hotels, so you really shouldn’t feel the guilt pangs stinging like needles in your throat when he swipes the key card through the magnetic reader and swings the door open. You shouldn’t feel so bad while taking in the king size bed, the LCD tv, the additional area with armchairs and a whole sofa, the private balcony. But you do. And when he turns to look at you, still standing by the door with a heartbreaking, bashful expression taking over your features, Levi clenches his jaw.
“What are you doing?” you ask as you watch him slide the balcony glass door.
“So many questions” he prompts you to precede him with a slight tilt of his head.
“What about the gift?”
Levi hates seeing you so defensive, so upset. He’s not used to that weird self-consciousness, not when you’re with him at least. Didn’t he come to obtain the exact opposite of what he’s getting? Isn’t he here to shield you from embarrassment, uneasiness? Why are you persisting in your stubborn shame?
“I get around ten minutes, remember?” he attempts a smile your tense features choose not to mirror. You sigh softly instead and, still uncertain, accept his invitation.
Outside the air is cool, a balm for your feverish skin. The balcony furniture includes two wooden armchairs, one small coffee table and a small couch. You plop down on the latter, not even having the energy to properly appreciate the beauty of a sparkly Kobe right at your feet, silhouettes of skyscrapers standing out against the night sky, the flickering lights of the harbor shining in the distance, tower so familiar you’d recognize it from a mile away. It’s home.
“So” Levi makes himself comfortable next to you, the breeze gently combing his hair back “wanna tell me what’s wrong?”
Plenty is wrong, the most urgent matter being the overpowering attraction you’re feeling for one of your closest friends. It’s fine, no use lying to yourself any longer. Maybe it’s always been there, underneath all the teasing and the jokes and his rare smiles that always felt like small victories you got to collect and preserve in your memory at the end of each day, when  you’d often replay the hours spent together as pretty movie frames in your mind right before drifing off to sleep. But it’s easy, playing weird feelings off as regular familiarity that comes with friendship. You just didn’t think this night would make things feel so different, so good.
He’d be a great actual date, a wonderful actual boyfriend too, probably. He’s already a wonderful, actual friend. One that dropped everything to rush to the rescue of annoying, silly you, seemingly an adult but really a scared excuse of a grown up who can’t confront her family on a matter as trivial as not being in a relationship. It’s mortifying, really. You wouldn’t think it’d feel that humiliating, especially not in his presence.
Slender fingers delicately close on the fist you don’t realize you’re clenching. They’re warm as they try to make their way underneath yours, a silent plea for you to let go of the fabric clutched in your hand.
“I already told you” your hand lets go at last and slips easily from underneath his touch, the silk of your carefully picked cocktail dress wrinkled already.
“You feel guilty about me dropping all my plans, coming all the way here, beng perfect and nice to everyone, spending so much money…” he’s being playful but the teasing doesn’t elicit the eye roll or chuckle he was hoping he’d get. Your head just hangs lower, chin almost pressing to your chest, as if you’re trying to curl into yourself.
“About that, you’re gonna accept a complete refund. Train tickets, this room, wedding gift, everyth—”
Levi cuts you off by grabbing your jaw and turning your head towards him, eyes narrowed in a familiarly impatient gaze. He can’t believe the nonsense you’re sputtering out, the weird formality of it all.
“Stop that” his voice vibrates with determination and words are forced to die in your throat as he inches closer, grip loosening ever so slightly “you keep looking at things and seeing the opposite of what they are”
“So what, you didn’t spend a fortune to be here?” you challenge and he sighs, as done as a person can humanly be.
He lets go of your jaw but you don’t pull back.
“You asked me to be here”
“And I’m trying to apologize for it!”
God, you’re wearing him out.
You get up from the couch and, out of frustration, rest your back against the railing, palms behind you pressed on the cold, metal edge. Levi is looking at you so intensely you’re tempted to turn around and just take the view in to calm yourself because this is going downhill enough to become a fight and fights with Levi are never pretty. You should know.
“Remember the reasons you put forward to try and convince me to come?” his calm tone is such a sharp contrast to his hardened features, it takes you by surprise.
“Pretty sure I called myself lame and pathetic quite a few times” you shoot him a frown.
“Yeah” he gets up as well “then I end up actually getting here and guess what I found?”
You let out a dry laugh, one with not an ounce of humor embedded in it.
“A version of me worse enough to be brought in your room to hide?”
Two well measured steps and Levi is in front of you right as you cross your arms in defense.
“The version of you I already know” he retorts, exasperated “beautiful, intelligent, clumsy. A functional adult with a family that loves her very much”
“You’re drunk” you breathe out but it’s yours the head that’s spinning. Somehow, Levi knows. At least that’s what you guess when he steps closer, arms effectivey caging you against the railing as he slightly leans forward.
“Hardly” he mutters, pensive, and you swear his eyes flicker to your lips for a second “you don’t see things for what they are. I didn’t see a perfect ex, just a self entitled asshole. Didn’t meet hypercritical family members, just old-school people who are unyielding in their affection for you. I could’ve stayed home, honestly, you seem to be bothered by me the most”
“I’m not bothered by you, don’t be fucking stupid” you blurt out, saliva levels down to zero at this point. What is he even doing? Why is he so close, why does he smell so nice and where the fuck is that wedding gift?
“Ah, there she is” Levi offers a soft smile “had me missing her all night”
He then moves a strand of hair away from your forehead and the pads of his fingers linger on your temple, then barely graze your skin as they travel all the way down to your cheek and along your jaw.
You’re unfamiliar with this version of him. It’s a version that compliments the one that’s met your family and friends, the wedding date you’ve been lucky enough to score. This version knocks the wind out of your lungs and has your knees weak.
But then something happens, the snap of invisible fingers and, just like that, the magic wears out. Your skin is left burning and his arms set you free as he takes a step back and shoves his hands in his pockets.
“I had a good time so enough with your guilt-ridden bullshit”
You’re barely able to catch your breath, still dizzy from the change of the overall mood. Perhaps he’s right and you’re the drunk, hallucinating one.
Levi slides the balcony door again but goes back inside first this time, leaving you little to no time to pull yourself together or calm the pounding of your heart. He collects no envelope from the nightstand before you both leave the room, a burning sensation churning in your stomach as you follow him down the hallway, feeling utterly boneless when you stop in front of the elevator. Maybe that Petra girl did have a point.
“There’s still one thing you probably haven’t noticed about me” right as a ding echoes in the empty hallway he turns his head to look at you, standing a few feet behind “I’m a terrible fucking liar. Wouldn’t convince anyone if I tried”
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