Literature, lust and love - Professor Romanoff

FORTY-FOUR

It was now the second semester of my third year, and as promised, I helped Wanda write her wedding vows. Granted, it took a while for her to actually listen to me and settle down, usually, she'd just tease me and we'd end up with nothing, but after some proper brainstorming, we wrote some pretty special vows. I often asked Wanda why she waited until this year to get married, since she wanted a simple wedding that didn't take much planning, and she would just say that she wanted to take it slow. Really, I think she just liked the attention too much and she knew that after she got married it would kind of disappear. Still, I was excited for the day to come, and I was proud that Wanda was going to read my vows to her husband.

"She looks beautiful," Natasha whispered in my ear as we watched Wanda walk up the aisle. I squeezed her hand and nodded, smiling fondly at my teacher. I never returned to Natasha's class, much to her dismay, but I adored Wanda's teaching and I seem to be doing very well with her so Natasha eventually came around to it. It also made things easier with Natasha, because she wasn't technically my teacher, so we weren't as cautious around the campus.

I watched as Vision took Wanda's hand in his, and gently rubbed his thumb over it the whole time the priest was talking. Wanda wanted a Sokovian priest, so most of the time we couldn't understand what he was saying, even with Natasha and I's knowledge of Russian, it didn't help that much. All we could focus on was how happy the couple looked together.

I listened with bated breath as Wanda read her, our, vows, and I watched Vision's face as he took in every word. He smiled so genuinely that I knew that I had done a great job. After she finished reading and Vision looked away to wipe away a tear, Wanda turned to me and gave me a cheesy grin and a thumbs up, making the rest of the congregation laugh.

Natasha pecked my cheek with a kiss slipped her hand between my back and the bench, pulling me closer to her. I rested my head on her shoulder for the rest of the ceremony, watching one of my favourite people get married to her love. Natasha and I cheered extra loudly when they kissed, and threw rose petals at them as they walked past, not that they noticed because they were so giddy.

"My feet hurt," Natasha grumbled as we started on the fifteen-minute walk through the field to the gazebo for the reception. I stopped and kneeled down to unclip Natasha's heels, and slipped them off of her feet before putting them in her hands. She looked disdainfully at the shoes in her hands, and then at her bare feet on the floor. I giggled at her frustration before squatting in front of her.

I looked at her over my shoulder. "Come on then, princess."

She smiled and jumped up onto my back, wrapping her legs around my waist and her arms around my neck. Thankfully she was wearing a suit, which made the whole situation a lot easier, and she obviously looked amazing in it as well. So, I trudged over to the tent, stopping every few minutes to catch my breath as Natasha thanked me with kisses on my cheek.

"What kind of wedding do you want?"

I pondered the question as I avoided dips in the path. "Nothing too extravagant, but big enough so that we could invite everyone we wanted to. What about you?"

"I don't really care, as long as you're there," Natasha cooed in my ear, and I smiled at her flirtation.

"Oh, I don't really know how to tell you this but I don't think I will be, my wedding is saved for one person and one person only."

"Who?"

"Matilda."

"Who's that?" Natasha asked, her voice tense.

"It's better you don't know."

"You really don't want to marry me?" Natasha sounded upset, so I let go of her legs and turned around to her. Small tears were forming in the corner of her eyes, and her mouth was downturned.