Two Letters That Change Everything

Hiraeth

| A homesickness for a home you can't return to, or that never was |

➳ ☾ ➳

Florence took a deep breath, her fingers fiddling with the lace of her long dress. She would've loved to say she was doing alright, but alas, her reflection in the mirror betrayed that statement. The immaculate young lady's figure with her glossy eyes was soon replaced by darkness after Florence's eyelashes fluttered shut.

She counted to ten, trying to steady her breathing and the tremor in her hands, mentally praying to anyone who was listening. She was praying for something, anything that could help steady her rapid heartbeats and burning soul.

Florence felt her knees buckle, so she placed both hands on the makeup table to steady herself before she could fall further than she already has. Taking one more breath, she opened her blue eyes, her red lips twitching triumphantly when the tears left.

She made sure the bundle of warm brown hair was intact in its updo and reached over to grab the bouquet of peach roses.

"You can do this," she whispered to herself, reaching for the door handle and walking outside of the room. With every step she took, Florence felt her lungs burning, well aware that time was no longer on her side anymore.

Clutching the bouquet tightly as though it was her lifeline, she quickened her pace before the thought of running away crossed her mind. "You can do this," her mind insisted, although her heart begged to differ, the incessant fluttering making her doubt those words.

Before she could reach the stairs, she heard a door on the left open. Knowing well who it might be, she quickened her pace further, not ready to see him yet; there was, after all, thirty minutes to go before the wedding ceremony had to start. But the universe had different plans. She hadn't taken one step yet before she heard the warm laughter that always managed to calm her down.

"Slow down, darling. I don't want you to trip and hurt yourself."

Florence pressed her hand against the wall to steady herself before the butterflies in the pit of her stomach could cause her downfall. She smiled and turned to face the all too familiar hazel eyes she grew to love. "I bet it's because you'd hate to be the one having to drag me to the hospital and listen to my whining."

The boy who was leaning against the top of the staircase rolled his eyes and laughed. "You wound me, Flo." He placed a hand on his heart, the light from the chandelier grazing his engagement ring. "Is it hard to believe that I'm concerned about my favorite person?"

She chuckled, bringing her eyes away from the handsome man, focusing on the peach roses instead. She would've preferred some other flowers if she was honest.

"I'm not your favorite person, Callum," Florence smiled sadly, lifting her gaze to meet the groom.

He took a step forward and cupped her left cheek in his hand, making her feel at home. "Oh, but you are, darling."

She wanted to lean into his touch and get lost into the now golden pool of his eyes. However, she pushed back the thought and leaned away.

"Um, you look good, by the way. You clean up nice."

The corner of Callum's lips rose. "Why you look quite ravishing, if I do say so myself." She was suddenly thankful for the light strokes of blush she had on her cheeks, hoping that the makeup could hide the slight flushing of her face. "Although, the roses don't match your lavender dress. Nor your personality."

"I know," Florence grinned. He knew her so well. "I was going down to give them to Daphne. She's the bride, after all, not me." She had to bite her lip after saying the last part; the taste of iron suddenly on the tip of her tongue.