But Only In Red Ink || #Wattys2017

Chapter Thirty-One

The next morning, I could hear voices from outside my window. Not two voices, but multiple. I looked to my side to see that Michael wasn't there. He must've been one of the voices.

I got up from my bed and went to look out the window. There were five men outside, two of them being Michael and a minister, the other three were putting up a floral arch and moving away tables.

Oh shit, I thought. It's Wednesday.

I remembered telling Michael that we should wait until Wednesday to get married rather than Monday. It was to give Carlisle time to find us without me telling him. I guessed that either he was on the way or he had no luck. And I was going to marry Michael.

I put on my robe and my slippers before going outside to speak with Michael. Once I got to the door, I noticed how happy he was. He was smiling so big that I thought his face would split. It woke the butterflies in my stomach. It reminded me of the real reason why I was doing this, why I was still here with him.

I did love Michael, even though I didn't want to. Call me crazy, but I was glad that it was happening. I just wished everything was right and the way I wanted it. With my best friend, my sister, my dad, his little hoochie girlfriend, and all my other friends there. Maybe one day we could have it that way. It will be a long time from now though.

Once Michael noticed me staring, his face lit up as he began walking towards me. "Good morning, beautiful! You know it's bad luck for us to see each other."

I nodded and shrugged. "I wanted to know what all the ruckus was.  I was asleep and heard fifty people out here."

He chuckled. "Yeah, they're just about done. Oh! I added something to your dress. Follow me." His soft, damp hand took mine and lead me to our closet.  He was nervous, I could tell. He was being a little jumpy and shaky. I wouldn't blame him.

He pulled out a white cape looking thing. "I know it's a little chilly out, I thought you'd appreciate this with your dress."

I giggled. "You're gonna have me out here looking like Solange."

"Who?"

I gave him the "really nigga" face. "Don't tell me you don't know who Solange Knowles is."

"Oh! Why didn't you just say Beyonce's sister?" He shrugged and carried my dress and the cape to the bedroom and laid them on the bed.

"Because she's more than Beyoncé's sister, Michael."

"I know, I know." He took the plastic off of the white cloths and looked at me. "You know, you say my name very often. Not that it annoys me or anything. It's just something that I've noticed."

I tilted my head slightly and folded my arms. "No I haven't noticed that. I'll try to control that."

He shook his head and turned to me, setting his hands on my shoulders. "No, don't do that. I love when you say my name. Not even just during sex but when you say it just to say it, you know?"

I nodded. "Sure," I giggled. "When do you want me ready?"

He checked his watch. "In an hour and a half? Is that enough time?"

I nodded again. "Give me an hour. It doesn't take that long for me to get ready."

"Okay! Do you want me to shave or..?"

I looked him over. His beard wasn't too thick but it wasn't too thin either. "Do whatever. I wouldn't mind either way, honestly,"

"Alright," he kissed me gently before heading out and closing the door.