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They spend their wedding night slightly too drunk and dancing to cheesy outdated music.
It’s not what they’d expected to be doing; they had expectations of a romantic night, naked bodies surrounded by flower petals and dresses discarded to the floor. Instead they kiss in a way that’s more laughter than actual kissing, their mouths clumsy and their smiles as golden as their gowns. Moonlight spills from the cracks between the curtains onto their bodies as they lazily sway to the music. Their hands grip each other tight and their laughter echoes throughout the otherwise empty Blackthorn manor.
Helen’s lips taste sweet like the rosé wine she was drinking, and when Aline twirls her and pulls her back, Helen stumbles into her and her delight is like music to her ears. Aline swears she’s never smiled more in one day in her entire life. Her chest is swollen with joy so powerful she feels like she’s on top of the world, Helen by her side, her arms outstretched and wind in her hair. It’s the most blissful feeling, to know the matching runes on their chests and arms bind them together forever.
And it’s always been forever, Aline knows. She’s always known that, from the very beginning even. But now they share last names and their families have grown bigger through law; it’s officially official, and that’s what makes it so much more exciting.
Her wife’s fingers teeter over the fresh wedded union rune above her heart, and a soft hum vibrates through her throat. Helen’s lips are at the corner of Aline’s mouth, soft and pink. “I thought I was going to mess it up,” she says, and there’s amusement in her voice, “I was so nervous.”
“You didn’t look nervous,” Aline says, moving to the sway of the music. It’s faint in the background. Her lips brush over Helen’s and she giggles because she’s so happy the laughter seems it won’t ever stop coming. She wishes they can stay like this forever; that they didn’t have to leave in the morning, that they could be happy here, together for the rest of their lives. She doesn’t want this day to end and she dreads when it does.
“I was,” Helen says. Her fingers are like fire on Aline’s skin. She pulls away, tucking a dark strand of hair behind one of Aline’s ears with her other hand. “At first. So many people.” Her palm cups Aline’s cheek and she draws her lower lip in between her teeth, eyes heavy-lidded and focused on Aline’s mouth. “And then I saw you, and how beautiful you looked. Then it was just us.”
“Well, I for one, thought I was going to pass out.” Aline teases, tilting her head to kiss Helen’s palm. “I can’t believe this is even real.”
Helen’s smile doesn’t falter. One of her hands falls to Aline’s waist, and the other entwines both of their fingers together. “Aline Blackthorn-Penhallow,” she murmurs, bowing her head to press a kiss against the side of Aline’s neck. She feels her teeth nip gently at the skin. “I like the sound of that.”
“It has a sexy ring to it, I think,” Aline says with a laugh, and she feels Helen’s body shake against her, feels her giggle softly against her pulse. “I’m never going to get used to calling you my wife.”
“Unreal, isn’t it?” Helen says as she pulls away, meeting her eyes and moving lazily to the music along with her. “I love you.”
Aline reaches with her free hand to tangle her fingers into Helen’s hair, white blonde ringlets soft and spilling over her arm. She tips her head up to kiss her; she tastes wine on Helen’s tongue and it’s almost like she can get drunk off of it. When they break apart Helen’s eyes are still closed and Aline leans her forehead against hers. “I love you,” she whispers back. “I want you.”
There’s a low hum in the back of Helen’s throat as she pulls Aline’s hips closer to hers. Her voice is a murmur and heat pools in the center of Aline’s stomach pleasantly. “You can have me.”
The music is still playing when they end up on the bed, all their clothes discarded, and they’re kissing with fervor and swollen lips when Helen starts giggling again on top of her at a particularly cheesy lyric. She bows her head into the crook of Aline’s neck, her body shaking; Aline’s hands are on her waist and she throws her head back into the pillows because that giddy feeling is back and Helen’s laughter is contagious. She suspects it might not have been so funny if they weren’t both drunk on so many glasses of wine.
“Sorry, I’m sorry,” Helen says through her giggles, pulling back to wipe at the few tears that had fallen onto her cheeks. “That totally ruined the mood.”
But Aline doesn’t care. Instead she responds with more laughter, her hands gripping at her wife tightly, their naked bodies pressed against each other’s. She takes a deep breath and closes her eyes when it fades away, evening out her breathing. “You know what?“ She begins, “I’m more than happy to just…do this with you all night long.”
Helen’s fingers are tracing over her runes again and Aline shivers. “I am too,” she says, and she can hear the smile in her voice. “We have a lifetime ahead of us for loud post-marital sex.”
Aline peeks one eye open. “Loud, huh?” She repeats light-heartedly.
“Mm,” Helen muses. “Very loud.”
She tries to ignore the way Helen’s hands sneak down to her chest, her own lips tilted into an amused grin. “You think the neighbours are grateful tonight, then?”
“Probably.”
Helen leans down to kiss her, and then her hands are suddenly at Aline’s middle and her fingers are tickling her stomach. Aline gasps into the kiss and grabs at her wife’s hands to get her to stop, but Helen is relentless. Aline pushes her back into the mattress and tries to wiggle away, breaking away from Helen’s lips with a squeal.
They stay like this until sunlight spills through the curtains, with the constant need to be touching each other and joy in their smiles, until the outdated music repeats songs time and time again. And it’s enough for them - they’re happy like this, laying beside each other and laughing so hard their stomachs hurt.
It’s enough; and when Helen cries the next morning when she has to leave her family again, Aline’s hand is in hers, and that’s enough too.