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nine years later.
Alexis had not known the wonders of seeing someone she knew and loved get married. The pride and pure happiness that coloured Mary’s face spoke volumes of how awesome the whole event was.
Alexis observes the jitters in her friend’s movements as she packs up her stuff, as if one tiny thing can set her off. Though her best friend was usually a little untidy, she was being oddly organised today, which was a good change.
Alexis was growing tired of tidying lab reports and cleaning up food stains on the dining table. (Because Mary forgets to.)
Her best friend looked absolutely beautiful in that white dress, having stuck to a diet she prepared strictly. The untouched bottles of beer, unopened boxes of pizza, and frosted cans of Coke sitting in the refridgerator had worked their magic.
Ebony locks styled to perfection, the eye shadow and mascara bringing out the lovely shade of green her eyes harboured. Her pale skin was glowing, smooth like porcelain.
There was no denying it: Mary was beautiful.
Pride was welling up in Alexis’ chest now, and yet a slight feeling of sadness washed over her. What will happen to her? She could not keep relying on Mary, not with her having someone else to look after now. In the first place, Alexis was not even her child.
“Lex,” Mary calls, hand full with cotton pads, her green eyes staring at her best friend, who was sitting down, waiting patiently, with a little black book in her hands.
“Yeah?” Her hands firm on the material of the book, she regards Mary with a smile as happy as she could manage, brows writing a white lie that she hopes Mary would believe.
“You okay?” Mary asks, looking down at her.
“I’m fine, just thinking.” Alexis cooks up a pretty lame excuse, but it was partially true. She did love thinking.
“If you’re hungry, there’s food downstairs.” Mary, not entirely convinced, decided to play along with Alexis’ façade, her lips drawing an equally happy grin for Alexis’ sake.
She knows. She knows that Alexis was slightly put-off as to why she had not felt romantic love for anyone these ten-over years.
“Thanks,” Alexis mirrored her smile. “I will.”
She gets up to leave, her bridesmaid gown paleing in comparison to the shining, bright beauty Mary’s dress seemed to radiate.
Well, she has inner beauty. Alexis thinks to herself, pleased, her grip still tight on the little black book as her other hand locks onto the doorknob.
“Hey, Poo?” Alexis whispers, and Mary whips around at her over-used nickname, smiling regardless of how she greatly disapproved of it.
