ABOVE ANYTHING ELSE, walking into the backyard hooked on Trae's arm was a sensory overload that enveloped Lindy into a heart-pounding vacuum of emotions. It wasn't enough to rattle the rush of assurance that she had gained only seconds earlier, but it made her hyper-aware of just how fast her heart was thrumming in her chest.
The Seattle air was cold and crisp, refreshing as it washed over Lindy and chilled her body. There wasn't much fabric separating her from the weather, but it felt nice, like plunging into a cool pool of water after sitting exposed to the sun for hours.
She had anticipated her backyard being virtually unrecognizable after Shelli and Beth's alterations, but she was surprised to see that it still resembled her favorite part of home. The additions only enhanced the view — even the rows of chairs, which held the small gathering of guests, did not hinder Lindy's breathtaking love for the nature surrounding her.
Wildflowers were strung everywhere and the white aisle was also littered with the flowers that Frances had tossed on her way down. To the right was a modestly sized tent, erected with a dance floor (that Lindy did her best to overlook) underneath. Tea lights, not yet lit, took up every spot of empty space in the yard. Mount Rainer would surely glow brighter in the distance once the candles burned at nightfall.
Every face in the audience was turned to greet the bride, each wearing a smile, some eyes being dabbed at with tissues. Normally, Lindy would have appreciated the moment as a time to stop and examine who had actually turned up for the event. Perhaps she would be surprised, seeing thirty-two people joined together just for her wedding. But there was little to no time for Lindy to pay mind to her guests; only one person held her full attention, and she could tell that he was truly enjoying this based on the smile he wore on his beard-scruff ridden face.
So you didn't wear jeans, Lindy thought, feeling her mouth twist up in a smile that mirrored his.
It was almost like he could read her mind, especially telling in the way that his lips morphed into a knowing smirk, as if he knew exactly what she was thinking. When he wanted to be, he was as shocking as they came, always doing the unexpected.
His usual jeans and raggedy flannel were long forgotten, at least momentarily, replaced by an outfit that Lindy quickly recognized. She blushed red to the roots of her hair, squeezing her bouquet tighter in her hands and wishing for that a mere second, she could have been truly invisible to appreciate what she saw then.
It was Kurt, but in the same exact suit that he had worn in Paris back in February. The same suit he had donned as his guitar had stopped working during Nirvana's show, evoking a tumultuous reaction out of him that carried over into the night, except in a more passionate direction. The same suit that Lindy had helped him remove piece by piece in their hotel bedroom, admiring just how heartbreakingly handsome he was with and without it.
His groomsmen, two of which whom had already worn the suits as well, stood proudly next to him. Krist was directly by Kurt, fulfilling the role of best man, with Dave filing in after and followed by Kurt's old friend from his teenaged years, Jesse Reed. Jesse had been phoned specifically for the occasion, as Kurt opted not to have his once good friend Dylan stand beside him for his wedding. The two had drifted apart once Kurt had quit drugs, but from the looks of it, Jesse was a perfectly capable groomsmen.
Lindy's bridesmaids remained in the corner of her eye, each of them beaming at her with enough energy to power the whole city of Seattle, but she could hardly imagine tearing her gaze away from Kurt's perfect face even if only for a fraction of a second. His blue eyes, clear enough to shine brilliantly even under the coverage of grey skies, pierced hers from the short distance away. His hands were behind his back, but she knew that he was wrenching them together nervously, begging for time to leap forward so that he could have her at his side.
