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The venue for the wedding was absolutely breathtaking. Juleka was absolutely astounded by the time she reached the lovely patio with rows on either side of a gorgeous aisle that ended in an arch made of roses, of course. Juleka was breathless.
And I meant that in quite the literal sense. Juleka was breathless, but it more to do with the dry heaving than it had to do with the venue, if we’re being honest.
“Dear, I, um, I think it would be best if you breathed a little,” Myléne’s voice was gentle and sweet, and it did nothing to assuage the terror that was assaulting Juleka. Myléne was dressed in a lovely black dress with an intricate pattern in the back and bare arms. Her wedding band glistened in her finger as she held her hands up, trying to calm Juleka down. “I was very nervous in my wedding too, but once you go there, you realize there’s nothing to be afraid of.”
Juleka straightened away from the trashcan, empty because she hadn’t had anything to eat anyways. She sat in a black and white suit, her hair done up beautifully by the skilled hands of Alya, although she hadn’t put up her bangs, which made Juleka feel a bit sad.
“Listen, it’s all going to be okay, you got that?” Alya spoke in a confident, authoritative voice. Her own black dress had a pronounced V in the front, which managed to look enticing without being tacky. Marinette had done a splendid job in the bridesmaid dresses. “Once you see Rose walk down the aisle, everything else will disappear, and you’ll wonder why you were concerned at all!”
Juleka took a deep, shuddering breath. “But what if—“
“What if nothing.” Alya’s words had a tone of finality to them. “You and Rose are going to be so happy, we all know it—“
Juleka’s breath receded, and she looked at Alya strangely. “What?”
“It’s always been obvious how in love you are with one another!” Myléne chimed in. “There’s not a single doubt in anyone’s mind that this is the best match.”
Juleka frowned. “Wait,” she began, still breathing heavy, but more in control now. “You think I’m worried about the marriage?”
Alya and Myléne blinked. “I mean…” Alya let the words hang.
“It’s not that,” Juleka mumbled. “I’m just scared of ruining her special day.” Her voice had gained confidence over the years, and now it didn’t take (much) effort to hear what she was saying. “Rose has been planning her wedding since she was five.”
Myléne’s expression softened and she kneeled in front of Juleka. “Dear, the day is already perfect, but because she’s marrying you. You can’t possibly ruin it.”
Alya crossed her arms over her chest. “Although that worries me. Juleka, it’s your day too, you know.”
“I—“ she stuttered, but didn’t finish.
“Is there something you’re discontent about?” Alya asked, and Juleka looked away and out the window.
Was there anything she could complain about? No, she supposed not. The venue was spectacular, their most special friends were there, and she was marrying Rose. So was there really anything she could complain about?
She looked down at her suit, although her bangs were in the way.
Yeah, there was one thing. But it wasn’t important. As long as Rose had her perfect day, that was all that mattered to Juleka.
The door to the room burst open, startling the three women out of their skins. Exhausted, heavy breathing and carrying a very heavy box, was Marinette, her own bridesmaid dress spaghetti strapped and simple.
“I made it!” She cried out. “I’m so sorry, Adrien had to cancel a last minute shoot, and you know how his father gets but I’m here now!” She stumbled into the room with the huge box that almost obscured her view until she dropped it flat on the large table. Frankly, how Marinette had managed to carry something so big was beyond all of them, but they had accepted that Marinette was simply stronger than she seemed, and terrifyingly so.
“Marinette?” Juleka called nervously. Marinette didn’t hear her, and dusted her hands, looking proudly at the box. “Marinette,” Juleka called louder. Marinette snapped to attention.
“Hm?”
“What is that?” Juleka asked, pointing at the box. Marinette smiled knowingly.
“A present from Rose.”
Alya, Myléne and Juleka looked at the box curiously.
“A gift?” Alya asked.
“From Rose?” Myléne finished.
“Yup! It’s her wedding present to Juleka. Well—part of it,” she winked and grinned. “The second half should be here shortly.
The door snapped open again, startling everyone except Marinette. Alix, dressed sharply in a suit, stood there, looking proud. They held in their hands another box, this one much smaller than the one Marinette was brought—small enough to be carried in their hands,
“Finally,” they said, looking at Marinette. “We were worried that you wouldn’t make it in time.”
Marinette feigned shock. “Me? Not in time? Outrageous.”
Alix looked at Juleka, excited. “So? What do you think of the—?”
“Shh!” Marinette hissed. “She hasn’t opened it yet.” Then, to Juleka. “Go on. It’s specially made. Rose thought you might like it, but says that if you don’t, there’s no pressure.”
Tentatively, Juleka stood from her seat. Myléne and Alya couldn’t help but get closer to the box as well, curiosity taking the best of them. Alix and the girls stood around the box, Marinette dripping with excitement as they waited for Juleka to undo the ribbon and open the box.
The top of the box fell unceremoniously towards the ground as Juleka covered her mouth with her hands, astonished. Alya brought a hand to her heart, and Myléne clasped her hands together. Alix looked satisfied and held up their fist for a bump with Marinette, who was feeling pretty good about the reaction her latest design was causing.
“So,” Marinette said, drumming her fingers against the table. “Do you like it?”
“It’s beautiful,” Myléne breathed. “How did you—“
“I already had Juleka’s measurements from one of the shoots we did. The rest was easy.”
“But wait,” Alya said. “She already—“
“Rose thought she might like this one better,” Marinette peered at Juleka. “Do you?”
Juleka, eyes brimming with tears, could only nod. Alix cleared their throat.
“There’s one more thing,” they smirked.
Rose stood at the altar, waiting. Her stomach was made of butterflies that were made of light. She couldn’t remember a time in her life when she had been happier. Nervousness and joy danced a tango in her chest, and sometimes it was hard to tell one from the other. She wondered what Juleka thought about her presents, and wondered for half a second if perhaps it hadn’t been too presumptuous of her.
The music began and Rose’s stomach fell to her feet. She turned around, her white dress kissing the floor, and caught her breath as she saw up the aisle.
Luka, looking regal even in his rock-and-roll vibe, wore a tuxedo. The look suited him, but Rose’s thoughts did not spend a moment on Luka,
Juleka walked down the aisle looking more beautiful than Rose had ever seen her. The dress Marinette had made for her suited her perfectly, with a white corset with black strings, and sleeves that reached her fingers and allowed for her precious family heirloom to remain on the back of her hand. The dress shifted on the floor, small, tasteful roses (which were surely Marinette’s design, bless her) and caught the light perfectly.
However it wasn’t the dress that made Juleka look beautiful. It was the beaming smile upon her face. Her hair was loose, with the addition of the small tiara she had asked Alix to deliver earlier. It worked to keep the hair out of Juleka’s face, so everybody could see how beautiful she was. Suddenly, Rose ached. She ached harder than she ever had.
She didn’t want to spend one more moment of her life unmarried to Juleka. Her bride’s walk down the aisle seemed eternal but not long enough, in a way. Rose would have watched her with that expression of joy for hours, but she also wanted her to be here. To hold her hand. Rose wanted her to arrive so that she could be told how perfect she looked, and how much she was loved.
Rose smiled. They had the rest of their lives for that.