eloped.

Epilogue

♡

The city streets feel different somehow even though you walked through them just yesterday. The air is warmer, the colors more inviting, the smell of the ocean more discernible than ever. Maybe the sun burns brighter against the windows, maybe the palm trees sway more breezily. Or maybe Tom's senses are simply more perceptive because he's happier.

Whatever it is, he holds on to it with a level of commitment as strong as the promises he made to you earlier. You, the person who walks alongside him right now. The person who will walk alongside him for the rest of his life.

Yet he feels heavier, too, from the distinct weight of the ring you're wearing, the one he can feel against his finger. It carries too much meaning, all of the implications of what it signifies and of what it might bring upon you in the near future. The decisions you'll have to make regarding your lifestyle, the potential changes, the burden of the unknown every time you walk the streets with your biggest proof of love on your hand.

He'll have decisions to make as well, and they will have to match yours with no prejudice on either part. They make the ring on his finger heavier than it really is, but he's ever so grateful that he gets to share this with the hand holding his. Just like you'd vowed to do earlier.

Your hand is soft but tight, fingers intertwined with his, supporting his vows and his happiness. And he supports yours in return, with an open mind and all of his heart.

The stroll through the city is long and tender, quiet at times but generally restless and filled with laughter, your linked hands an eternal bond between the two of you. There are chaste kisses shared occasionally, sudden dance moves as Tom twirls you around whenever you reach a more open space, and then you do it to him, too. He grins at you, swirling away from you in mischief only to reel you back in and pull you into a sharp kiss.

You laugh into it, and he welcomes it with elation from the antics he's pulled the whole afternoon, then something shakes against his thigh and you pull away to breathe.

"You're vibrating again," you point out, poking your knee into his.

"The do not disturb setting must have timed out, but you know what?" Tom asks, sidling up to you and draping his arm along the small of your back. "The best part of being on vacation is that I can ignore it until later."

"Are you sure?" you press, bumping your hip into his as the buzz of his phone persists, still perceptible over the sounds of the town.

"Absolutely." He grins sideways at you, nodding for effect. "It's our wedding day. Everybody else can wait at least until we're back at the hotel."

"I like the sound of that," you say, smiling brightly.

Every day of his life is controlled by a schedule, by people telling him where and when and what to be, but right now nothing is more important than the sunlight fading in the horizon as you cross the monumental walkway of a mosque you didn't visit yesterday. The construction is simple, but the details and the tiles all over it are intricate and beautiful, reflecting the blue hour and the brightness of your captivated smile.

It's already dark out when he follows you into the hotel, stomachs rumbling lowly on your way. While you were out, you'd pretty much forgotten about food, but you did explore different bars and cafes and small, smelly joints across town. You'd wanted to try the various kinds of teas and beers and wines they had to offer, which was enough to keep you both entertained but provided little to no sustenance.

When Tom steps into the lobby with you right next to him, he sends a quick greeting to the reception lady even though she's on the phone, but soon her voice calls out for him by the fake name he'd used to make the reservation.