38 | Official
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We have sex, a lot. A few times at night, then again in the morning.
Maybe the two years of deprivation made me into some mega horny beast, or Nolan just has insane sex appeal that eats me alive.
Either way, by the time we get to the wedding the next morning I'm half tired, half sheepish with the thoughts of Nolan beneath me, mouth on my skin, hands everywhere.
It doesn't help that he's been whispering all these things about my dress in my ears, grazing his hand over the exposed parts of my back. He switches between organising all his very important equipment and littering little kisses down my neck.
"Stop," I murmur as his tongue dances on my open shoulder, "You- you're going to give me another stupid hickey. It's been hard enough to cover the other one." I say all this whilst not moving at all, probably just giving him better access.
"I'm going to be busy all day," He responds, placing a soft kiss on my jaw, then just below my lips, "I'm going to miss you."
His dramatics make me laugh, "I'm going to be across the room, I think you'll be fine."
"I won't."
I meet his hungry lips, that familiar feeling of the cold ring absent.
I weirdly miss it. He's taken it out for the wedding, all dressed up in a handsome suit and tie.
His messy hair has actually been tamed for once, framing his sharp jaw and kept appearance.
The sight of him makes my stomach flip, if we hadn't been in a rush that sex count might've flicked one higher.
He kisses me like we'll never see each other again, tongue twirling against mine, teeth biting gently into my lower lip.
We glue tighter desperately, hands roaming, attempting to not mess up our nice outfits whilst still trying to suck the life out of each other.
When we break there's a tiny string of saliva that breaks and trickles down my chin.
I wipe it away, huffing a laugh. Maybe that's evidence that we need to tone it down a notch.
"Come on," I say, reaching for the car door, "You have a job to do."
Nolan groans but follows me out the car from his side, gathering his camera, different lenses and confusing-looking tripods. I hover, unsure what to do, or say. I don't want to interrupt, but I don't really know what I'm looking at either.
When we walk fully up to the venue my jaw drops a little.
It's beautiful. Tall, sprawling walls lined with marble pillars, tables adorned with pretty white flowers, natural-looking lights falling from the ceiling, a dark wooden floor.
My shoes click in the silence, busy people rushing to set up a few extra things.
I fall behind Nolan, struck by the design of the main dining hall as he strides up to a woman with a clipboard. The wedding planner, I'm assuming.
"Hey, Hannah," He greets, "Where should I be right now?"
She smiles, clearly stressed, before returning to her clipboard, "Uhhhh, they want photos of the reception so just stay close by for now. After the vows you'll be doing the outside photos and then mingle for the candid ones, you know the deal."
Nolan nods like anything she just said at a million miles an hour made any sense. I flit my pupils between the candles on the tables and a small circular stage with a tiny live orchestra setting up their instruments.
"Who's this?" Hannah adds, only drawing me back to life when Nolan turns to face me too.
"Ava," He replies, simply.
"Hi Ava, would love to chat but we're missing two centrepieces so I need to get going," Hannah nods as politely as she can, "See you." She leaves as quickly as I noticed her, planning mode clearly overtaking everything else.
"This place is gorgeous," I mutter, only now noticing the tall, white double doors with panelled windows that lead out into a wide garden. Even from here I can see the aisle and seats all lined up, sprinkled with flower petals and made up with a beautiful, dainty arch at the end.
"Probably the nicest venue I've seen up here," Nolan adds casually, though his tone implies he's just as impressed as me.
The guests arrive and the space fills. Nolan leaves me, reluctantly, and I do nothing but watch him for a while, the way hides in plain sight.
With that camera around his neck or aimed in his hands, people don't try and start conversation in the same way.
But he knows what he's doing, hugging the wall in a way that makes him blend in.
He has such a serious concentration face too, clenched jaw, serious pupils, brooding stare. He really gets into his element.
I don't really speak to anyone, everyone who knows each other greeting in over-the-top fashion, hugging and grinning like it's been years.
By the time people have just started to mingle outside of their circles the reception is about to start and we're all ushered outside to the rows of white seats.
I'm right at the back but it doesn't make the whole thing any less stunning.
I watch the bridesmaids, the flower girls, the bride herself who looks incredible.
Kimberly, I learn, is her name. Long, flowing dress dotted in pretty lace and a veil draping all the way down her back.
I think I'm actually jealous by the time the vows start.
I want to wear a beautiful dress, feel pretty walking down an aisle, have a gorgeous day somewhere like this.
It's all fantasy in my brain, a far off dream. Thinking about it properly would incite scarier thoughts like who my hypothetical groom would be...and whether I would want that for real.
The whole service goes smoothly, like some sort of fairytale, and watching two people so clearly in love commit to each other almost makes me cry, despite the fact I don't know these people at all.
I only take notice of Nolan at the end who's been in a perfect spot for taking what I'm sure are beautiful photos.
He brushes past me softly when everyone moves to go inside, fingers touching my waist ever so slightly, "You okay, pretty girl? Having a nice time?"
"Yeah, I'm good," I reply with a nod, letting him place a comforting kiss on my forehead. But his touch is gone as soon as I feel it as he's called away to take more photos outside of the bride and groom.
I find my place at the table I've been assigned to, Nolan's empty chair making me feel even more awkward by myself.
I think that's why I drink my wine a bit too quickly, the haziness rushing to my head faster than it should.
It melts together with all the prettiness around me, the lovely ceremony and dazzling decorations.
"You know the bride or groom?" A friendly voice says from beside me. I turn, catching her blonde hair. It takes a minute to process the fact she's speaking to me.
"Oh, uh, neither. I'm here with the photographer." I can feel my cheeks burn a little hotter.
"Oh, right. I've seen him about," She says, then pauses, "I wondered why he was checking you out, guess it's not an issue if he's your boyfriend, huh?"
Boyfriend. Not yet, not officially. It feels like this impending label that's going to hit us sooner or later, but hasn't quite tipped over the edge. I almost say something but stop - it would be stupid to correct her.
"You're lucky to have someone who looks at you like that. Love never really works out for me, it's nice that some people have better experiences."
Love?
She doesn't realise it but the words are bigger to me than they are coming out her mouth. I chug the last of my wine, washing away any scary ideas.
"You'll find someone," I say, trying to be as kind as I can.
"Thanks, I'll try and believe that."
The day pushes on into the evening, the sky darkening, guests getting chattier and drunker, some saying their early goodbyes.
I have a few more conversations here and there, most starting with the awkward 'Oh, no, I'm just here as a plus-one' introduction.
No one seems to care anyway. The bride and groom seem ecstatic, dancing and smiling with each other like they're the only people in the room.
My chest tightens with an unsure feeling, I want that.
Suddenly, a pair of hands snake over my eyes, putting me in sudden darkness. I'm too tipsy to get properly scared, a smile overtaking my face instead. I know exactly who's behind me.
"Guess who?"
"Hmm, Hannah."
"Close," Nolan hums, freeing my vision and spinning me around to face him. He's got this smirk on his face, somewhere between feral and relieved to see me.
"You finally done?"
He shrugs, "Pretty much, should probably get a few more but people have started leaving now."
"And everyone's too drunk or tired to notice you slacking off?"
He chuckles in amusement, "I think you're a bit drunk, Ava."
I shake my head firmly, but I know I am a bit. Not enough for this to feel less real, not enough to deny the way he's looking at me right now could kill me. We have a tension-filled silence, my words escaping my head.
"Come with me," He says eventually, taking my hand without warning.
"Wait- Nolan, what?"
"Just come."
He leads me through the remaining crowds and towards the open doors.
We pass that beautiful aisle and arch, turning towards a part of the garden I hadn't even noticed earlier.
In a small gap sits a bench-swing, white and draped in flowers and pretty fairy lights.
It's hidden from the lingering noise of the wedding party, tucked away so that it feels private.
He sits, urging me to join him, so I do, brain still sort of flowy from the alcohol.
It has made my heart softer too, finding even more comfort as our shoulders brush, his hands slips over the top of my dress and rubs calming circles across my thigh.
A sigh leaves my lips, maybe relief, maybe happy to get a moment alone with Nolan after hours of being apart.
I can't help but get the feeling he's planning something. Sitting here quietly, separating ourselves from the world feels perfect as it is. I feel safe. But there's gentle hesitation in Nolan's actions that make it feel like something's missing.
"Can I see some of your photos?" I ask, suddenly, catching sight of Nolan's camera now resting in his lap.
He looks over to me, amused. I don't know why he can't comprehend me liking his work. I think he's talented, that he has an eye for these things. Hell, that's the reason he's managed to come this far in the first place.
"Please?"
"Yeah, anything you want, pretty girl." He hums, bringing it forward and flickering it to life.
The screen is bright but Nolan quickly navigates it to the library of photos, a million shots of lots of different things. He brings it to the start then places the camera very carefully in my hands. I can barely believe he's trusting me with it, his prized possession.
"You sure I can just...?" I ask, but I get my answer soon enough.
Nolan's arms come around my shoulder and down over both of my hands, steadying the camera whilst also guiding the movement of my fingers. It's sort of like when couples help each other line up a pool shot, the same closeness, the same breath at my neck, the same back pressed to mine.
"I trust you, but with my cameras I can't take any chances," He hums, but like he's genuinely apologetic about the fact he has to be careful, "Having to replace one would totally screw everything up."
I nod, understanding, and not really complaining at all actually. Having him this close to me is hot more than anything. I like the bubble of warmth brewing between us, his lips ghosting my skin like it might accidentally slip and kiss it.
He pushes down my thumb, getting me to flick to the first photo.
It's a group of guests, candidly having a conversation under hazy lights.
I keep going, seeing the bride's wide smile perfectly captured, the bridesmaids posed in perfect formation.
It's a blur of pretty lights, smiles, flowers, a brooding colour palette that sets the tone of the evening so well it's actually hard to put into words.
I can almost see the photo albums now, the framed photos they'll cherish for years.
"These are amazing," I say, gently, flicking through.
"Thank you," Nolan murmurs beside me, the words reverberating through my skin.
My finger pauses on one of the bride just as she says I do, eyes beautifully teary as stands in her white dress. I blink at it for longer than the others.
"I can't wait to be a bride."
The sentence slips out before I can stop it, before it can sound jokey or be played off as anything less real than it sounded.
Nolan stills, his body freezing behind me, but instead of surprise he just sounds as casually amused as he always does.
"Yeah?" He hums, voice so low my stomach flips.
Suddenly his hands across mine, all over-lapping limbs, feel hotter, thrumming with heavy emotions. Flush settles on my neck as I try and squeeze out something, anything.
"Not your bride." It was supposed to be jokey but comes out as an almost-choke.
Nolan makes a low exhale again, "No, of course not." He leans in closer, lips so close to my ear I'm enamoured by his familiar scent, "You'd have to be my girlfriend first."
Even in all my internal panic the words make me pause. Girlfriend?
Did he just say that?
Then, his fingers are pulling the camera out from my arms, he's moving from behind me to beside me, so we're next to each other properly. Faint music swirls in the background, lights twinkle in my peripheral vision, the small rocking of the swing makes everything seem unstable.
I watch Nolan, blindsided. His hand dives into his pocket, searching for something and my chest tightens even more. I don't know when my heart start beating at full speed but it is, slamming against my ribcage. I blink, overwhelmed, even though nothing has even happened yet.
"Nolan...what....?"
He pulls out a little box before I can come up with a coherent sentence. It's small and wrapped in a velvet red the same shade as my dress. His jaw clenches as a more serious look takes over his face, but it's softened at the edges, like he really means it. He offers the box towards me.
"You're the best thing that's happened to me in my life, Ava," He says, low and meaningful, "I'm serious. Shit has always been screwed up for me, but with you...you've shown me it doesn't have to be like that. You give me real comfort, real safety I've never been able to get anywhere else."
I want to say something but I can't, my tongue catching in my throat. I just blink, like I've never heard words before, tangling my fingers in my lap as I stare at the man I once thought incapable of emotion.
"You're so beautiful, and funny, and smart. I sometimes think I did know that, all those years ago, and I disguised it by making you my muse," His eyes keep looking at me like I'm a precious object, "You are my muse. In life, in everything."
There's a sudden prick behind my eyes, a sting that starts small and rushes forward in a tidal wave I don't expect.
The first tear leaks free without me ever realising.
I've never had this, never had anyone who cares about me so completely.
All Nolan's words have rested on my heart, made me feel cherished. I feel lucky.
I want to say all the same things back but my head is still scrambled, wading its way through every nice compliment he's just given me. I can feel my cheeks stretch with how wide my smile has reached.
"Will you be my girlfriend, Ava?"
He offers the box forward again, slotting into my nervous hands.
He's smiling, really smiling, not grinning or smirking, there's a sort of anxious joy in his expression.
He knows I won't say no but his admission was heavy, it's made the air thick with warmth and need. I need to speak before I explode.
"Yes," I nod, another tear running down my cheek, "Of course, yes."
Nolan brings his finger up to wipe away the tears and I laugh, still a bit tipsy, even if this whole moment felt like it stunned all the alcohol out of me. My face arches into his touch instinctively, even more so as he cups a hand around my face.
"Thank you," I whisper, not even sure what I'm saying that for. Thanks for asking? Thanks for caring? Thanks for saying all the same things about me I think about him?
He smiles with recognition before gesturing his head with a nod, "Open your present."
"I didn't need a present for this," I almost-laugh again, voice soft with admiration, "God, with your speech and me crying you'd think you were fucking proposing to me..."
He just shrugs gently, "Maybe I got too into the wedding theme."
I go to open the box, pulling the lid up gently until I'm greeted with a beautiful gold necklace, all propped up on a white cushion.
There's a dainty 'A' hanging in the middle, pretty and perfect.
I can already imagine it around my neck, giddy with the knowledge of who gave it to me.
My heart threatens to burst out my chest even further.
"You like it?"
"I love it," I murmur, meeting Nolan's eyes again, "Thank you." I think I'm welling up again, too much this time, slipping into ruining my makeup territory. Who knew I could be the soppiest person ever?
"Good," He nods, certain like a weight is off his chest.
His hands smooths away the water on my cheeks, holding firmly before leaning in, more hesitant than usual. He's checking me over, like he always does, making sure he's not about to cross a boundary. I just lean in to close the gap, touching his lips so gently I almost melt into them.
The kiss is strong, solid like it's built on a real foundation.
And I guess now it is. He's my boyfriend.
We're together, actually together.
It should feel like the most dangerous thing in the world but everything has settled into some sort of peace.
My head feels all light and floaty, heart giddy againt my chest. I want to stay here forever.
We cling on for a second too long, every longing moment met across the room seeping into this one kiss. The pace with which he pulls away almost drags me back in immediately. I just watch him for a second, those shiny eyes as gentle as I've ever seen them.
"You wanna head back?" He says after a moment.
"You're really done with all your photos?"
"No point taking any more when all I'm going to be thinking about is you..." He pauses, lips curling into a knowing smirk, "And getting you out that pretty little dress."
It doesn't matter that it's a hushed whisper, those first jolts of heat shoot through my bloodstream, "Here I was thinking you were romantic. You're really just a horny asshole."
"Can't I be both?" He challenges, but the softness with which his hand has gone back to circling my thigh definitely puts him into the romantic category.
My stomach erupts with life-altering butterflies that never seem to go away around Nolan, no matter how close we get.
Like the best burning friction I could ever feel my skin has started to become electric to the touch, all whilst my heart rests in gentle admiration.
It's tilt my head, finding the words still left on my tongue.
"I guess we'll find out."
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