IT STARTED WITH A WHISPER, Elizabeth Olsen

There's no good wedding without...

It had been a little over a week since I'd been back home from the hospital and Lizzie hadn't left my side, not even for a minute. She spent most of her time and energy helping me and trying to make things easier for me, which I was incredibly thankful for. Each kiss and every touch was sweet and gentle. But every single day, I could feel this desire growing inside of me, this uncontrollable craving for more, for her. I was also starting to feel better, my ribs barely hurt anymore and the headache was completely gone.

"What's going on in that beautiful head of yours?" Lizzie asked, stroking a piece of hair behind my ear.

"You, as always" I responded with a confident smirk, making her blush slightly.

"Is it... a good thing?" she sounded hesitant, studying my face to try and get an answer before I could even speak.

"Yes, it is" I nodded, pulling her closer to me to place a soft kiss on her lips. The soft gesture quickly turned into one filled with hunger and need. She parted her lips, allowing my tongue to slide into her mouth. I gripped on her hips, helping her move to my lap as her hands moved to the back of my head, tangling in my hair. When we parted to catch our breath, she didn't really step back, keeping her forehead pressed against mine. I reached for the hem of my shirt, trying to pull it over my head but she stopped me.

"Y/n, you're still hurt, it's... it's too soon" she whispered against my lips.

"It's not, you're not going to break me Olsen. I'll be just fine" I reassured her before pulling her impossibly closer, lips hovering over hers. My phone buzzed just as I was about to close the distance. I was taken aback by the sound; it wasn't a call or a text but an alarm. I rarely put alarm like this in the middle of the day so I shot Lizzie an apologetic look before reaching for my phone. Paulson's wedding. "Fuck" I whispered under my breath as I turned it off.

"Okay, so... funny story" I started, mentally cursing myself. "I sort of totally forgot that my ex is getting married today. Would you be my plus one?" I hesitantly asked, observing her soft features, waiting for any reaction. She looked like she was holding back a laugh.

"You're adorable. I got an invitation too, you know..." she chuckled. "Of course, I'll be your plus one, love" she smiled as she pecked my lips a few times before adding, "we should really start getting ready, though."

"Does this mean you have to leave?" I nearly whined, giving her my sad puppy eyes. Although we were giving it a shot and she'd brought a few clothes to my place, she still had her own apartment where most of her stuff was. I hated when she had to go, even if I knew that I would be seeing her again in a matter of hours.

"I'll be back in an hour to pick you up" she said reassuringly. Her lips curled into a soft smile as she placed a kiss on my forehead before getting up and walking out. I got up shortly after she left, making my way to my closet to find something decent to wear. I didn't have a lot of options; I wasn't used to being invited to weddings. Then, I remembered the matching set I'd bought right after Sarah invited me. A pair of dark crimson red straight pants and a cropped top with a heart-shaped neckline and thick straps in the same colour. Although I was a rather organized person, I had a bad habit of procrastinating. I knew if I didn't buy something as soon as I got the invitation, I would wait until the last minute and I couldn't let that happen.

When I first saw the matching set, I texted Sarah to make sure she was okay with the colour as it's not always okay with every bride or groom to wear red at their wedding. Thankfully, there wasn't any dress code and the only warning Sarah gave me was to, quote, "not look hotter than her". How could I possible look hotter than the one and only Sarah Paulson? That woman is flawless. I mean, tall figure, soft features, and she ages like fine wine. There was no way I could have ever stolen her limelight.