Ross Lynch Imagines

Honeymoon Delight

  A wide grin quirked upwards on your lips as you reminisced on the previous events of yesterday. Images of last evening scenes flashed through your mind as if on a flickering projection film, filling your insides with joy and giddiness. Ruby ribbons lacing and weaving from each seat lining the plush carpeted aisle, twinkling fairy lights streaming above in the large tent, scrumptious materials of elegance and vintage among gathering guest's apparel, along with trimming of the scenery which was delicately planned over long, exhausting night's–although the outcome was worth it. Then the tips of your heels ghosted against the root of the roll-up carpet scrolled down the aisle you would be walking down momentarily. The beautiful ivory satin gown covered your body, fitting snug around the torso and waist, the shoulders were cutoff, then flaring out in a luminous flow to the floor. The dress was a passing through the family as tradition as each woman married, the most recently woman before you who wore the gorgeous gown being your mother.

Nonetheless your silky strands were weaved and curled to perfection, shimmery diamond stones embedded with your hair, your clammy hands wrapped tightly around a bouquet of ruby roses as your arm was linked with your father's. The traditional wedding rhythm flooded the surrounding of the tent, everyone hastily taking their seats, then the bridesmaids began walking down the aisle before you. Your nerves were jumbling all over the place, until your anxious eyes rested upon a figure waiting your arrival at the end of the aisle. He looked so handsome in his neatly ironed tuxedo, crooked, loving smile, and golden locks gelled back.

After seeing the love of your life waiting for you with just the same increasing amount of nervousness, all the worry and people crowding the room faded away. All that mattered was you, your love, and this moment. The priest guided the exchanging of oath vows of everlasting love, honesty, and eternity for a life together, shared a sappy story of a couple he married back in the 1950's, putting on the golden rings, and he announced you husband and wife officially.

Everything was so exquisite and amazing, perhaps representing a scene out of a movie. Only six hours ago you two became newly weds, yet you still could not slap that contagious smile off of your face. It was permanently imprinted there even if you were currently sitting the dim-lighted first class body of an airplane a few thousand feet floating in midair.

"What are you thinking about?" A whisper is said into your ear, hot breath fanning your skin. Your smile only grew wider as you glanced beside of you, catching a glimpse of a familiar silhouette sitting beside you. Even in the dark cabin of the plane, you could still make out Ross's features with the dim illuminating blue lights lining the aisle. A tired, yet happy smile creased in his face, his honey eyes full of exhaustion and excitement, his silky blonde locks were disheveled from resting his head on your shoulder.

He was your husband. Ross was finally yours and you were so lucky he was.

"The wedding and how amazing it was," you said without hesitation. You voice was in a hushed tone, not wanting to awake any passengers within the cabin since it was nearly three in the morning. "And you..."

"Oh yeah?" His attitude boosted dramatically. "I feel the same way–it was so great, baby." You heart fluttered as his lips pecked the tip of your nose, a small gesture that always sent you over the edge.

"I just can't believe we are married," you gasped in awe. "And about to land in Hawaii for our honeymoon. It feels like not too long ago we were in that musky bowling alley on our first date when we were seventeen."

"We've come a long way," Ross says, intertwining your fingers together lovingly. "But for the record, I always had a feeling we would last... Maybe at the bright, bold age of seventeen I was not entirely considering marriage–but I knew your were the one."