Marry or Kill

53

S O L

My hands twist a long strand of lights around a tree by the wedding entrance, a task given to me by Elias for the wedding.

For a moment, I'm thankful I have this task during the day because they're nearly blinding.

The decoration designer approaches me amidst the bustling activity, his footsteps muffled against the soft grass beneath his feet. "Remember. All around the tree branches," he instructs.

I'm beginning to feel exasperated by the fact that he's been singling me out for the past hour. Not anyone else, just me and my decorating skills.

I nearly sigh out in frustration. "Why am I really doing this? I'm not a designer or decorator."

He offers a reassuring smile, his eyes scanning the bustling scene around us. "We need all the help we can get," he explains, gesturing to the many individuals diligently decorating both indoors and outdoors. "You're not alone in this."

With a resigned sigh, I swipe a bead of sweat from my forehead, the midday sun beating down on us. "Yes, but they are all decorators as well."

He shrugs, thinking for a moment. "And there's another reason," he adds, his tone growing more amused. "Elias wants to keep you occupied, so you don't... well, spiral like a crazy lady," he finishes, gesturing vaguely to his own temples with a wry smile.

I spin around with a narrowed gaze, but the decoration designer has already vanished.

Typical Elias, always pulling the strings behind the scenes.

With a frustrated huff, I turn back to the task at hand, my glare boring into the innocent tree as if it were to blame for it.

"I wanted to say thank you," a voice says, solemnly approaching behind me as I take a step down from the ladder. 

I pause for a moment, startled by the sound of Noah's voice behind me. Slowly, I turn around from where I've been stringing up fairy lights on the trees for the wedding, my hands still clutching the strands tightly.

Noah stands before me, dressed in his guard's uniform, the fabric outlining the strong, defined muscles of his physique. His hair, slightly grown out, is neatly styled, a contrast to my own unruly locks.

My hair, long and neglected, hangs in a ragged curtain down my back, the split ends and dryness from not maintaining it for a while. Despite the dishevelled appearance, I've tied it up in a high ponytail in an attempt to keep it out of my face.

"What do you mean?" I ask, my brow furrowing in confusion.

"For saving me... before you were taken," Noah explains, his voice catching slightly with emotion. He coughs before speaking again. "I never had the chance to say that until now." His eyes sweep over my outfit, taking in the details, and a flicker of sadness passes through them.

He stands a fair distance away from me, as if he's scared he'll tip me over the edge by taking a step forward.

"It's okay," I respond softly, offering him a reassuring smile even as my own emotions churn within me.

We haven't had a chance to properly speak since the incident with Atticus. Noah has been occupied with various tasks since the helicopter incident, and Elias's disapproval of him has only made him busier.

"It's not," Noah insists, crossing his arms with discomfort. "I haven't had a chance to speak to you since what happened."

"It doesn't matter," I reply softly, my voice barely above a whisper, as I turn my gaze away from Noah and continue back to the lights around the tree.