Midnight In Sheffield | Alex Turner

Chapter I - AM

"I don't see how this could be more important to you than meeting my parents," she grumbled, her voice muffled by the pillow she had planted her face in. The sheets of the bed were soft and had a pristine white colour, much to her dismay. The entire hotel room was much too extravagant to her liking, but it was Mark who insisted on paying extra to make their stay most comfortable.

"Please don't be difficult now, sweetheart," her fiancée replied, as he set one of his neatly folded trousers in the dresser on the shelf next to where his ironed shirts hung. "You know how much it means to me to be able to see James and Rachel again after all these years. I'm sure your parents will understand. If not, I'll beg for their forgiveness." He dramatically bent down to his knee, as if to gallantly portray his apology, making her roll her eyes.

"That wouldn't be the first thing you'd have to apologize for. First of all, you're going to have to tell my dad why you didn't ask for his permission to marry me-"

"You already said yes!"

She shot him a look. "And secondly, you're going to have to explain to my mum why you didn't want to stay at their home. I think she would've been very happy to play hostess to the man who's going to marry her daughter in a few."

He crawled on top of the bed, his curly brown hair hanging over his face as he hovered above her and kissed her forehead. "I'll be sure to make up for it. Now, please get changed. We're having lunch."

"Please don't tell me it's going to be at that ritzy restaurant we went to last time. I'm still not over the way that waiter felt the need to explain everything to me like a five-year-old whilst pointing everything out with his little finger."

"Well, you can't speak French, darling. I think he tried his best at explaining the menu to you."

Her eyes narrowed. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing. Just, please stop drooling on the pillow and put on something nice. For me?"

Seeing the convincing puppy look on his face, she gave in with a sigh and a very loud slurping noise as she lifted her head from the pillow, making Mark huff.

Meeting with James and Rachel wasn't the worst thing in the world, because she didn't see them very often and they were overall nice people. At least, if you didn't count every time James tried to be the smartass of the group by giving some random fact about anything and everything they came across, or if you ignored the way Rachel was evidently very flirty and touchy with Mark, or if you turned your head away every time the couple made those wretched kissing noises as they shared what should be an intimate moment.

What Mark had with Rachel was something she could never come between, something she also shared with many good friends of her own. They were the type who would always share that bond with you, no matter how long you hadn't seen each other, and she could only be happy that Mark still had friends like that.

His work as a lawyer didn't allow for him to make all that many mates, as most try to stab him in the back just to be able to get that promotion they wanted. He'd often come home with his head hung low after days like that, when loneliness took over the pride he had of his usually exhilarating job.

And thus, as she watched Rachel hug him extra tight, she kept her mouth shut. It was for the best, and it was only one afternoon she had to endure.

But she vowed to herself to not let it happen at her wedding. That was her day. Fuck Mark and fuck Rachel. She wasn't going to be left alone dancing with James, who seemed to be known for having two left feet, by her own husband. But that was something she'd have to worry about in the future.