Because You're Mine (A Tom Hiddleston Fanfic) #Wattys2016 #pfcc2k16

Chapter Thirty-Three: Playing Dress-Up.

                  

Talk about skeletons in the closet, am I right?

More like a skeleton, I feel like what I have in front of me right now is a blast from the past. Or from what seems like another lifetime, altogether.

From the back of one of my wardrobe doors, perfectly pressed and wrapped in a dry cleaning bag, hangs the last piece of couture I would've ever thought I had to lay eyes on ever again; my wedding dress. Or more specifically, what was supposed to be my wedding dress.

My mother had insisted on taking care of it as a wedding gift and I still remember the last time I came over to the city to discuss designs and fabrics, and to take my measures for the first fitting. I loved every single thing about the design and back then, I simply couldn't wait to see the job once it was finished. And here I have it; suspended in front of my eyes, gently swinging from its hook and almost making fun of me.

I close the door with a thud and I go back to the bathroom where I was just fixing up my hair and applying some make-up before I thought it was a good idea to start putting away the pile of clothes I had lying on my bed. I hoped that once I had it out of my sight I will eventually forget about it and this undeniable need to take it out of the bag and admire it thoroughly. Maybe even try it on.

Come on! It's a Jenny Packham dress, for crying out loud! You would practically be a sinner if you didn't want to put it on at least once... What would be the harm in that?

Strangely enough, her voice doesn't seem to be coming out of my head this time, but from the closed doors of my closet. And even more strangely so, I actually think I completely agree with her on this one. What's wrong with trying it on? After all, it is my dress and I bet it took someone's really hard work to get done. Not putting in on, for at least the two minutes it would take for me to see how it fits, would be an unforgivable act of disrespect to said someone, and her -or his- obvious talent for clothing making.

Oh, my God. It is gorgeous...

The dress is now out of its plastic protection and it is carefully laid across the bed. I can't help to release a gasp of pure fascination once I finally take in all the details on it; the silhouette is quite simple but that's pretty much where the simplicity of the dress ends. All these beautiful, light catching tiny crystals are sewn into some intricate patterns all around the waist and down the sides.  On the top, a delicate layer of an exquisitely embroidered fabric gives the entire gown an ethereal appearance. In other words, this is the dress that, without me even knowing, I always wanted to get married in.

"Honey..." My mother walks into my room while giving soft knocks on it but not really waiting for me to say anything. At least is an improvement from my brothers, "Oh, no! I totally forgot about that" she says with an apologetic tone when she sees the dress displayed on the bed.

"It's so beautiful" I say in an almost breathless voice. This dress seems to have put me under some sort of a spell and I can't keep my eyes off of it.

"I'm so sorry, sweetie... Let me!" she takes a long stride and when she is standing next to me, I see her bending over as she tries to grab the dress and put it away.

"Don't. It's alright, mom. Really..." I promptly say wrapping my arms around hers.

She straightens herself up and looks up at me with a puzzled expression on her face. I can tell that she is trying to read between the lines I just said to her, but since there is nothing there, she quickly relaxes and lets out a sigh of relief.

"You truly are okay with this, aren't you?"

"I am, and I know that Harry screwed up but, the more I think about it, the more I am convinced that our wedding wasn't going to happen either way. If I had not discovered his cheating, something else would've done the trick" With my arms still intertwined on hers, we both take a seat at the edge of the mattress, careful not to sit on the dress and wrinkle it, "And I wasn't lying yesterday when I said that I'm trying to be friends with him... We've been through a lot and I don't want the last two years of my life to have been for nothing" I say with a shrug, "Does that make any sense?"