fic: May I Have This Dance?
Mar. 22nd, 2014 09:14 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
bonnefoisTitle: May I Have This Dance?
Series: FFVIII
Character/Pairing: Squall/Rinoa
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Only Squall would be a wallflower at his own wedding.
Word count: 651
Author's note:![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
ladiesbingo: marriage. Happy late birthday, Jana.
Only Squall would be a wallflower at his own wedding. Though he'd made it to this corner only because Rinoa had been pulled away for a photo op by Selphie. Selphie had taken over the job of photographer without being asked, and no one could bring themselves to disappoint her like that.
Perhaps they could do with less extreme angles taken like it was in the middle of battle, but the sheer amount she took more than made up for it. Besides, she seemed to have found a calling of sorts.
"I got another one!" She leapt with an overpriced camera in tow, as if she'd won the jackpot. Rinoa smiled and waved, her long white dress glittering in the light. There were dozens of rolls of film filling the duffle bag across her back, but Selphie kept snapping everything in sight: the decorations, the bride, the groom in the corner, Zell attempting to fit five hotdogs into his mouth at once, Irivne photobombing every one he could.
Somehow, they'd convinced Zell and Irvine not to be the band, and Quistis had recommended an orchestra instead. As the first strings were played for an instrumental waltz, he heard her coming, like a queen stepping down from her throne, her train rustling as she stepped.
It'd been her day, her choices. Her long white gown made her look like royalty, complete with a small tiara.
Lanterns criss-crossed over the veranda, snuck inside with bits of white flowers and feathers. He didn't ask if they were her own. White chairs, white arrangements, Angelo with a big ribbon around his neck.
She'd planned it all herself, and pulled it off as well as a tactical battle. She never failed to surprise him on some level. He never quite got used to that whimsical brilliance of hers. He had a feeling he never would.
She leaned in and took his hand. "You're the most handsome man in here, that's why I married you," she said
The reason?
She tapped him on the nose. "But not the only reason, just the first."
It wasn't the first time she'd dragged him out to the dance floor, but it was his second favorite. She laughed as he tried to right himself, too rigid at first.
"We've got to get you some dancing lesson, Shuffles," she said.
Squall grimaced, and she laughed again. "Come on, it'll be fun. Maybe there'll be one on our honeymoon. We could go dancing on the beach."
"Nothing more romantic than sand in your shoes," Squall said.
"Then we'll make it romantic when we toss off our shoes and run into that cold, cold water, hmmmmm~? Oh, and I picked out a new bathing suit for this trip. One I think you'll like quiiite a bit. Are you blushing yet?"
He shook his head.
"Then I'll just have to keep trying. Oh well, I've got the rest of my life," she said.
He eased into the dance, into step with her under the lights and flashing of yet another camera shot as Selphie used up yet another roll of film. Zell was doing some kind of breakdancing meets parkour in the corner, while Quistis solemnly raised her glass to them.
Even as everything inside him had opened up and changed, many things stayed the same. And as she lead him in the steps, he knew it would be like this: the same knowing and comfort and opening up, the same friends and the same love he could rely on.
"Oh, I got you to smile," she said. "Quick, Selphie, catch the evidence that his face won't break if he smiles!"
In the dizzying sea of lights, he held on, a comforting warmth of happiness spreading through him.
Series: FFVIII
Character/Pairing: Squall/Rinoa
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Only Squall would be a wallflower at his own wedding.
Word count: 651
Author's note:
ladiesbingo: marriage. Happy late birthday, Jana. Only Squall would be a wallflower at his own wedding. Though he'd made it to this corner only because Rinoa had been pulled away for a photo op by Selphie. Selphie had taken over the job of photographer without being asked, and no one could bring themselves to disappoint her like that.
Perhaps they could do with less extreme angles taken like it was in the middle of battle, but the sheer amount she took more than made up for it. Besides, she seemed to have found a calling of sorts.
"I got another one!" She leapt with an overpriced camera in tow, as if she'd won the jackpot. Rinoa smiled and waved, her long white dress glittering in the light. There were dozens of rolls of film filling the duffle bag across her back, but Selphie kept snapping everything in sight: the decorations, the bride, the groom in the corner, Zell attempting to fit five hotdogs into his mouth at once, Irivne photobombing every one he could.
Somehow, they'd convinced Zell and Irvine not to be the band, and Quistis had recommended an orchestra instead. As the first strings were played for an instrumental waltz, he heard her coming, like a queen stepping down from her throne, her train rustling as she stepped.
It'd been her day, her choices. Her long white gown made her look like royalty, complete with a small tiara.
Lanterns criss-crossed over the veranda, snuck inside with bits of white flowers and feathers. He didn't ask if they were her own. White chairs, white arrangements, Angelo with a big ribbon around his neck.
She'd planned it all herself, and pulled it off as well as a tactical battle. She never failed to surprise him on some level. He never quite got used to that whimsical brilliance of hers. He had a feeling he never would.
She leaned in and took his hand. "You're the most handsome man in here, that's why I married you," she said
The reason?
She tapped him on the nose. "But not the only reason, just the first."
It wasn't the first time she'd dragged him out to the dance floor, but it was his second favorite. She laughed as he tried to right himself, too rigid at first.
"We've got to get you some dancing lesson, Shuffles," she said.
Squall grimaced, and she laughed again. "Come on, it'll be fun. Maybe there'll be one on our honeymoon. We could go dancing on the beach."
"Nothing more romantic than sand in your shoes," Squall said.
"Then we'll make it romantic when we toss off our shoes and run into that cold, cold water, hmmmmm~? Oh, and I picked out a new bathing suit for this trip. One I think you'll like quiiite a bit. Are you blushing yet?"
He shook his head.
"Then I'll just have to keep trying. Oh well, I've got the rest of my life," she said.
He eased into the dance, into step with her under the lights and flashing of yet another camera shot as Selphie used up yet another roll of film. Zell was doing some kind of breakdancing meets parkour in the corner, while Quistis solemnly raised her glass to them.
Even as everything inside him had opened up and changed, many things stayed the same. And as she lead him in the steps, he knew it would be like this: the same knowing and comfort and opening up, the same friends and the same love he could rely on.
"Oh, I got you to smile," she said. "Quick, Selphie, catch the evidence that his face won't break if he smiles!"
In the dizzying sea of lights, he held on, a comforting warmth of happiness spreading through him.
no subject
Date: 2014-03-23 10:11 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-03-23 10:20 pm (UTC)