Of Stalking and Tomatoes

Prologue

Who would've thought that this was all real? Here, in this small but beautiful chapel, hidden far off behind trees and mountains. Here, today, under the clear, blue sky of autumn. Even he himself cannot believe that he is currently standing in front of the altar, fidgeting with his cuff links as he watched the people slowly flow in from the wooden doorway. He still felt like he was floating, dreaming. He wanted someone to pinch and shake him awake. But at the same time, he didn't want to wake up from this terrifyingly wonderful dream.

A strong slap to his back made him wince. He swiveled swiftly as his face contorted in pain. There, he saw his best friend dressed in a spiffing black suit, a red and black striped tie, completed with black pants and shoes to match.

His best friend snickered and gave him an amused look. "Keep fiddling with that and you'll be searching for them under the benches later."

The man pouted and kept fidgeting, "I can't help it! This whole thing is scaring me!"

He was met with a raised eyebrow. "Seriously? If you run now, who knows what kind of slaughter she's gonna do here." his friend raised his hands in mock surrender, "I don't wanna be a witness to that. Or worse, a victim."

The man took a deep breath, hands gripping at the ends of his sleeves. "Right. That's a horrifying thought."

"You're the one who asked for this. Shape up!"

That did not help him. In fact, he started biting his lower lip in anxiousness. He knew he needed to calm down but he just didn't know how. He tried counting up from one, counting down from one hundred, counting in Spanish. Heck, he even tried counting in Italian. Key word being 'tried'.

The organizer came down from her perch on the stairs and told him that they are about to start. He briefly remembered nodding and feeling the blood drain from his face as he walked towards the large wooden door. He didn't remember the music starting, or walking down the aisle. He briefly registered his best friend tugging him to place and letting go of his parents. When did he hug them? He didn't remember when he turned his eyes back to the door, or when he heard the music change. But he vividly remembered seeing her walking down that aisle.

Garbed in the simplest dress she could ever be allowed to wear. A thin veil of cloth covering the face he knew all too well – eyebrows that are never trimmed but are forever in perfect shape, small nose that makes the most adorable sounds when she laughs, thin lips where sass and witty come backs flows out and fiery auburn eyes that will never cease to burn. In her hands are lilies, Italian grown lilies, which she fought tooth and nail to have just for this day. Walking slowly, one foot after the other.

He was hooked, lined, and sunk once again. Everything, aside from her, seemed to disappear and he could feel himself taking a long deep sigh.

She was a sight to behold. Always were, always will be.

"Ton."

He blinked out from his world and stared at her in front of him. She had water in her eyes but her lips were clearly stifling a laugh. She motioned to her side and he turned to see her parents smiling at him, highly amused. He smiled apologetically before hugging both of them. He could hear a snicker from his best friend standing behind him. He made a note to hit him after all this but thought better of it. He figured he'd let the man go. Just for today.

After the hugs were done, he turned to his angel. Even with the veil, he could see the amused grin she was giving him. She'll never let this one go. With a sigh and a pout, he offered her his arm and just with her warm touch, the pout was replaced with a large smile. Together they walked up the stairs and closer to the man that will seal their vows.

"Thank you for that wonderful remark."

The host's voice echoed from the large speakers in the reception hall.

The hall was a small covered area surrounded by several flowering plants and fresh green grass. Green drapes hang from the frames of the three fence-like doors. Chairs and tables, with light green mantles, were spread out in the area as a lone white covered table sat on top of an elevated wooden step.

The newlywed's table many had correctly guessed.

Lilies and carnations in a beautiful arrangement decorated each table. Though oddly enough, a basket of plastic tomatoes were on the newlyweds table.

Some were extremely confused as to why that was while there were others who almost died from laughing the moment they saw the red fruit. It was said that both bride and groom insisted on those tomatoes. The organizer never knew why.

"Now, may I call on the one who has called himself 'The Greatest Wingman'." the host called, "Mr. Julian Grau for his...'testimony'."

Grinning as he took the microphone from the host, Julian, or Jul as most call him, took his stand in front of the audience.

"Allô!" he greeted in his well-known 'Prussia' accent, earning a few laughs, "Ignore the accent. I got used to doing that every time I hold the mic."

"Before I start," he turned to his two best friends on the elevated table, "Congratulations to my two favorite people."

Applause.

Then Jul turned to the bride's parents.

"Also, auntie, uncle," he started, "I just want to remind you that whatever you hear from this point on, there would be absolutely nothing you can do now."

He gestured to the newlyweds, "It's done. Even if you regret this, after I'm done here, there's nothing you can do. I just want to clear that up."

He was greeted with laughter from the older couple as well as from the audience.

"What I am to tell today is highly classified information. Only the three of us," - he gestured to the newlyweds and to himself - "knows of this. Okay?"

A series of nods and affirmation were heard from the audience. It satisfied him.

"Alright. Just one last thing before I really start," he took a few steps towards the front center of the room, "When do you think these two first met?"

There were shouts of dates with '2015' being the most heard. Jul grinned at this.

"2015? The audition for the Hetalia panel cast?"

The audience hollered in agreement as Jul's grin got wider.

"Wrong."

The audience was suddenly silenced in shock and confusion. If not in 2015, then when?

"Ladies and gentlemen," Jul began, "Let me take you back to Cosplayer Ren's first ever cosplay panel." He smirked as he continued, "Black Butler Cosplay Panel of 2010."

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Translation:

Allô  - hello