Chapter Text
London, not far from St James’s, Piccadilly Street, Summer
Her lungs were on fire.
Lucy Abernathy was running as fast as she could. Through the streets of London, oblivious to the curious stares of onlookers, she was running, while creating quite a scene with her billowing wedding dress engulfing her like a cloud.
There was a powerful flow to her movements, one two three, one two three, it sounded like a waltz, a most romantic dance that would have been her first dance with her husband, if she hadn’t just run out of the church.
She had run from the altar, past the pews with hundreds of her guests, twisting their spine to follow her every move, dropping her bouquet in the process. Her guests watched how she wrenched open the heavy wooden door, slamming it into the outer wall, before she disappeared through it, towards her freedom.
She passed the square in front of the church, where the lanterns were adorned with baskets filled with yellow and white flowers. They looked celebratory and cheerful, but she felt anything but celebratory and cheerful. And so she ran.
She kept on running, propelling her as far away from that church as possible, her mind focused on one thing and one thing only. She could not go through with this wedding and she would not.