Billion Mafia Bikers

Weddings

I sat in a room. I was in a white dress, a white veil. I was getting married. To a man I had never met in person and he's rumored to be dangerous, ruthless. I felt my lungs constrict, and my throat felt like it was closing off. I had been trying not to cry, I didn't want to ruin anything else. Mom had already blamed me for not being compliant with the whole idea of being married. Called me ungrateful. Dad just kept muttering about having sons and more guns.

I felt dizzy as some more women flooded through the door of the room. Fussing over last minute details of my makeup, my dress. They grabbed bouquets and shoved one in my hands. It was beautiful, white and soft pink roses with splashes of green made up the bouquet. I was so entranced by it I hadn't really been paying attention to anything else.

It calmed my mind down to focus on only these few flowers instead of a wedding, babies, and everyone's crushing expectations. I took a deep breath and ran my fingers over the petals. They were soft and I lifted them to my nose, they smelt amazing. I was pushed in front of a pair of large wooden doors. I forgot, I was getting married in a church because it was the most secure building and it wasn't someone's living room.

The doors swung open and I started to walk forward. People glanced at me, I looked up at the groom. The man I was supposed to marry. He had tattoos peeking out of the collar of his black suit, he had a soft pink rose attached to his suit. His hair was jet black and he had combed it back but he ran his hand through it and it fell over his forehead barely reaching over his soft green eyes. I was so caught up in his gaze I almost tripped over the first step leading up to the podium or the place I had to stand.

The pope started to talk about marriage. I returned my gaze to the soft pink flowers. I rubbed one of the petals with my thumb. My hand shook as I heard the pope start to say something about vows. A large hand covered mine and he took the bouquet. I didn't try to hold onto it. I had also lost the desire to throw it.

"I do." He said. That snapped me out of some trance I had been in. The pope was staring into my soul and I fumble over words.

"I...I- do." I managed to choke out. He gave my hands a squeeze and the pope nodded.

"You may now kiss the bride." I was swept into the air or that's what it felt like. He pulled me close to his body swiftly and lifted up one of legs before dipping me and kissing me. I wrapped my arms around his neck and leaned into the kiss. When we both let go I was breathless. He had a small smile on his face before setting me back on my feet and kissing my cheek.

"Wait here for a moment, I'll be right back." He said. I waited in front of the pope who just looked me up and down before walking away. I made eye contact with my parents but they just turned their heads and walked out. I felt my heart drop. I just stared at the ground and felt parts of me break and shatter. I was left alone. My parents were never the loving kind but I always had a small piece of hope that maybe they would come around. Now, they acted like I was no longer their responsibility.

"You ready to go home?" He asked. I lifted my gaze from the ground and nodded slowly. I looked over at where my parents were and all that was there was empty space. He kissed my temple and rubbed my back.

"Home?" I asked. I looked into his green eyes, his gaze softened and he nodded.

"Home." He said. He went to pick me up, "Oh one more thing." He grabbed something and handed it to me. It was another bouquet except it was just full of soft pink roses.

"Thank you." I said softly.

"They're beautiful," He smiled and picked me up, and kissed my forehead, "Just like you."