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It was a December wedding, theirs, snow blanketing everything outside the venue in a whirlwind of a blizzard. They’d nearly rescheduled, but Noelle refused. It had to be today. She had waited so long. She had sacrificed too much to wait even a day longer. She needed this to warm her cold, cold heart.
Neither Kris nor their bride had a wedding party. It was a family affair, Toriel and Asgore tolerating each other for the sake of their child and Asriel, holding back his objections, on one side; Carol, alone, on the other. She’d not smiled like this in years. The six of them and nobody else. That was all Noelle needed, she told herself, her mother walking her down the aisle and snowflakes outside and Kris.
Until her mother began reading the vows. She was cold, so, so, cold, her feet felt frozen. No, they were frozen, ice creeping higher and higher up her legs. But if she just got through this… if she just had Kris’s warmth… she could only vaguely hear them, mumbling over their vows, could only imagine what she looked like reading hers, cold and numb.
The ice is already at her neck, starting to show from under her dress, by the time she says I do.
It’s the very last thing she does, to press a frozen kiss to Kris’s lips, to witness the horror written on their face. How strange, she thought, that Kris looked so stricken. They’d both chosen this route a long, long time ago.