*_Underneath the orange tree _*

*_Part 1_*

*_Three years ago_*

I've always hated weddings.
Never found myself to be as happy as I should be whilst two people unite on such a joyous day. And yet, here I am, rebelling in the desperate crowd to get a glimpse at the newly weds. Honestly, I don't quite remember how I ended up here in the first place.
Nana had urged me to come and greet Mirryn congratulations on her marriage, as much as I had debated on disagreement. In the end, she threatened to stuff me in the same humid car with the bride, and I eventually gave up on the argument.
I glance down at my emerald green gown, a golden-tinted belt beneath the corset, the long sleeves almost up to my fingers. Almost hesitantly, I push the sleeve down just an inch to glimpse at the butterfly tattoo on my wrist, I breathe out a heavy sigh, wondering if the person with the exact same pattern was somewhere in the crowd.
I look around to meet a pair of angelic blue eyes, trying not to gawk in the process. It seemed like Mirryn was watching me the entire wedding given the way she was staring. It takes everything in me not to poke my tongue at her, instead straightening my back. She may only be three years older than me, but she respects me in a very similar way she treats the crap underneath her shoe.
"You seem lonely."
I almost jump when I hear the familiar voice, turning to see the owner directing their words at me. A boy around my age was standing right next to me, their wavy wine-red hair and crystal blue eyes proving my point of familiarity.
I arch a brow. "Are you going to try and torture me with those ill-made flirts of yours to fix it?"
Ambrose grins in the process, turning his head to look at the bride and groom. "If you want to point it out that way, then sure."
A disappointed groan leaves me, irritated at the answer. "Obviously you're not here just for that. What the hell do you want, Coldblight?"
I ignore his sarcastic gestures, and continue to glare into his eyes. He smirks, and hands me a plastic cup with cordial, the exact same drink in his other hand. As he does so, I glimpse the similar tattoo to the one I very much had as well. "I'm serious, you looked like you could use the company."
When he saw that my expression hadn't changed, he rolled his eyes. "No need to thank me, sunshine. I was merely helping you in looking less like a loner. You know, a little change from the usual."
I scowl and elbow him as hard as I can in the stomach, a laugh tearing out of him. "You forget yourself, sometimes. You say loner, I say the-person-who's-best-friend-thinks-so-fully-of-himself-he-forgets-he-falls-in-that-same-category-as-her." I reply evenly, tilting my head.
He shrugs, a ghost of a smile still at his lips. "At least that "best friend's" term was shorter."
I snort and take a sip from my cordial, watching Mirryn and her husband slow-dancing in the middle, in beautiful sync with the waltz in the background. As embarrassing as it is, I actually have no idea whatsoever who she was married too. She announced her proposal a couple hours after it had happened to both Nana and her parents, but never to me. Possibly because it seemed like I wasn't intrigued in the subject.
I sheepishly look at Ambrose, begging he won't deepen the subject with questions such as "how do you not know?" or "she's your cousin, aren't you supposed to know?". Not that his presumed questions weren't right, just that I didn't want to explain-
"You're staring at me as if I've grown two heads. If you're not going to say anything, I highly suggest you look away before people start to wonder if my pretty face has manipulated into something like yours."
I gape at him, this time glaring at him with the integrity of my soul. " I was just going to ask if you had any idea who Mirryn's husband is."
Ambrose immediately turns to me, surprise dimming his eyes. "But she's your-"
"Yes, yes, we're quite aware we're family relatives. What we're unsure of is who her husband is, remember?"
He stares at me for a second, grinning before taking a sip of his own drink. "Since when did "we" come into our conversation?"
"Since I acknowledged it. Do you have any idea whatsoever who he might be?" I retort, impatience growing thick.
What seems like a decade passes, until-
"I'm not too sure, but mother said she recognised him as the town baker when she first saw him."
I take in the grooms curly blonde hair in contrast to his hazel eyes, lean body spinning his bride on the dance floor.
I smirk. "Not gonna lie, he's pretty good for a baker. Mirry really found herself a catch."
Ambrose chokes out a chuckle, waving his hand around. "First you're calling your cousin by nicknames, then you're attracted to her husband-"
"I'm attracted to whoever I find fancy, even though I'm not messed up in the head to steal them away," I simper, frowning.  "Besides, I've been calling Mirryn "Mirry" for a very long time, now."
Silence travels the air once again, long enough for me to bite back, "hold on, how are you here."
Ambrose raises a ruby-tinted brow, genuinely confused for once. "What do you mean, "how am I here"."
I face-palm myself, groaning, "I mean how did you get invited to their wedding. I wasn't aware of you having close contact with either Mirryn or her family for that matter."
This time, he raises both his brows. "You really don't know anything, do you?" He sighs, urging me to roll my eyes. "Dad usually sees Mirryn herself or her parents coming into his restaurant. Since it's on a basically daily-basis, they've made close friends, thus allowing me to get an invite on such a spontaneous festivity."
I couldn't help the giggle that came flying out at his last words, even affording Ambrose himself to chuckle a little. "With big words like those, I'm sure you'll pass high school in no time," I reply, smirking at his proud face.
He fidgets with the silver ring on his pinky, smiling. "Let's hope you don't leave me when I do."
I laugh once again, covering my mouth with my tattooed hand. "So confident I'm not going to leave school with you, aren't you?"
He grins. "Indeed."
I hear the change in music to a more graceful beat, although it had a hyper sort of tang to it. I swivel to already see Ambrose looking at me, holding a hand out. "May I have this dance, your grace?"
I blanch, turning serious. "Absolutely not. We're here for a wedding, not on our way to the hospital for breaking our toes."
He rolls his eyes. "I have experience, you know. It'll be fine."
Before I can argue, he pulls me on stage, ignoring my yelp. His tattooed right hand travels to my waist as he holds my own right one, leading me slowly to the beat, "If we somehow crash into another couple, which won't be a surprise to me, you're not making it home tonight, Coldblight."
He doesn't laugh, as much as he does smile, and we start to dance a little faster.
My footwork is sloppy, as much as I can dance my upper body to the rhythm of the beat. I feel Ambrose turning my hand, gesturing for me to swivel around him, and his word is my command.

A/N
Damn, that really sounds shit, but oh well 🫠
Anyways, that was the end of the first part, or if you'd like to call it, the "prologue".
If lucky, I'll try my best to update again tomorrow, maybe even two chapters instead of 1 😁

-Alice