Russell Adler x Reader

Thirty-Eight

Weddings usually were an occasion to come together and celebrate until it felt like the world was a perfect place.

Some people also liked to use the opportunity to get blackout drunk and sleep with the sister of the bride.

Woods had already checked both boxes before the ceremony had even started. But as the skilled, feral man that he was, he played it off smooth and no one had ever suspected a thing, neither the drunk part nor the sleeping with the bride's sister one.

Mason was playing the babysitter for him all day and night long while Sims presented his wife to everyone else who had been invited. He had married his sweetheart right after the war had ended.

It had been a nice weeding, small, but very cozy with pretty decoration and food that you'd never forget.

Adler, however, had jumped head first into a ton of secret missions after returning.

That way you two had spent even more time together than he did with his soon to be better half and had formed an even stronger bond.

Playing the workaholic had earned him about two years of pushing the weeding back, but one day Hudson had been sick and tired of him messing around.

Now, Adler was forced to marry her, even though his disliking had only grown.

"Looking handsome!", you teased and fixed the white bow tie he was wearing. "She'll forget that you kept her waiting for so long."

Adler was a fashionable man, always had been and always would be.

He had made the choice to wear a brownish, beige suit with a white dressing shirt and bow tie underneath. The shoes were black.

An amused huff escaped him as he turned to look himself up and down in the mirror.

"Could be worse.", he noted, but it was obvious he was anything but thrilled to be at this wedding. "Thanks for doing this."

You chuckled and took a sip from your whiskey.

He had insisted on drinking one before doing this. Either he needed the alcohol to not decide to back out last minute or he just wanted to spend one last nice moment with you before his main focus in life was demanded by a woman he didn't even like.

"I could never miss this.", you said and checked your attire in the mirror. "Even though she hates to see me here. Next to you."

"She's jealous."

"She has a right to be. She'll be your wife after today."

A deep sigh escaped him. He lit a cigarette, took two breaths and put it out again.

This day really played with his ability to make decisions.

"Angel.", he looked at you.

Despite the big day he was about to be part of, Adler was wearing his shades.

With a soft smirk and a shake of your head you pulled them off his nose.

"Those need to go.", you said and wiggled them in the air. "At least for today."

He snatched them from your hands again. But he waited to put them on.

"It's not too late yet, you know?", he suddenly said and stepped closer.

You knew what he was referring to. But you decided to play the fool. You didn't want to talk about it.

Not on this day.

Preferably never again.

"Shades...", you gifted him an annoyed smile.

"Russell."

"I never call you that. And you never call me by my name."

He locked eyes with you.

"(Y/N)."

Your face froze.

"Russell...", you sighed and fixed a strand of his rusty, brown hair. "This is your wedding day. Don't ruin it for yourself."

He grabbed your hand, gentle, as if he was afraid you would shatter under his touch, and guided it to the scarred side of his face.

With a sad smile you gave in and let him have the little bit of comfort that he found in your touch.

A deep breath escaped him.

His bright blue eyes flickered as he leaned into the warmth of your hand.

"I can't marry her.", he said in an exhausted voice. "I don't want to."

"You have to.", you said.

Something inside your chest pulled together.

"We've spent enough time for me to realise I like you better."

"You said that in Vietnam already."

"But I had doubts in Nam. I thought you'd be better. Now I know."

Gently, you freed yourself from his grip and took a step back to down the entire whiskey you had left.

Your eyes wandered out of the window.

The location was beautiful, a huge private garden with a lake in the middle, surrounded by flowers.

The wedding had been in spring so everything was colourful and still smelled sweet.

This truly was a perfect day to get married, warm but not hot, sunny with a few butterflies and bees flying around to do their work.

You wouldn't mind to get married at a place like this.

"You're a lucky bastard, Russell.", you mumbled and looked at him again. "Why make it hard for yourself?"

His lips curled. Then he pressed them into a thin line.

He always did when he was sure about something.

Without saying a word, he stepped closer, reached out and pulled you into a kiss.

It wasn't the usual kind of kiss you had shared at war. It was a hungry one, desperate and so rough that it seemed like he was willing to set the world on fire to get what he wanted.

It felt obsessed.

And yet.

Your eyes fell shut as you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him so close that his chest pressed against yours.

It was a good kiss, so full of desire, yet loving.

He had never said the words, but this kiss was enough to know how he felt.

But it tasted as bitter as sin.

His lips parted and his tongue begged for you to let him in.

You did, taking in the taste of whiskey and ashes.

Gently, he bit down on your bottom lip to leave a mark.

It would heal, but made it so obvious what you two had done in this room, minutes before he would marry someone else.

As you pulled away, you couldn't help but feel guilty.

"Don't forget the flower for your jacket.", you whispered and patted his chest before escaping.

The worst part about that day was that it made you feel like it had been a mistake to decline his offer.

Maybe you two would have had a happy ending.

Maybe.