21 | Chapter Twenty One

4.8K 154 92
                                    

»--•--«

ACT ONE

Chapter Twenty One

»--•--«

»--•--«

Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.

»--•--«

'Where two are joined in holy matrimony'

»--•--«

AN OVERWHELMING BUT TRANSLUCENT FOG covers Small Heath, Louise's eyes straining to see through it as she peers out the window of the hotel. With every calming breath, Louise's chest rises, the lace of her wedding dress brushing up against the cold air of the room; her window wide open.

She feels calmer, more at ease this time. In fact, she feels just as peaceful as the small breeze she sees floating through the grey mist. Her fingers subconsciously stroke the brittle and cracking paint that lay wearily upon the windowsill. Her earrings sway slightly every time she moves her head to get a better view of the cars, all dolled up in wispy white ribbons and garlands of leaves. Within the garlands, peak yellow roses, a small detail that caches Louise's eye but makes her smile none the less.

All of the Peaky Boys stand assembled near the cars, their hands either in their pockets or joined in front of them, yellow pocket squares poking out of their breast pockets and cigarettes lying loosely from their lips. She can see Arthur pacing about as she hides behind the lace material that cascades from the top of the window and down to the windowsill; veiling her from their sight. They all stand there; some with faces like stones, those more comfortable and closer to the Shelby's have cheeky smiles on their faces, Arthur seeming to be panicking.

"Are you ready to try this again, love." Polly asks gently, her hand gently wrapping around Louise's.

"I think so, Poll." Louise smiles, giving Polly's hand a squeeze.

Knock, Knock.

"Time to go, girlies." Finn teases from the other side of the door, Polly heading towards it as Louise takes one last look at the hotel room; the last hotel room I'll ever be unmarried in, she thinks, for the next time she steps into one she will be Louise Changretta. She takes one last look at the crinkled curtains and bed sheets, both a clean and plain white, she takes a look at the small circular armchairs; their velvet looking different in areas, some bits darker as they've been brushed by a person.

Louise takes one last deep breath and heads to the door, trailing behind her aunt; dressed head to toe in white.

»--•--«

𝐕𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐕𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐚𝐬 | 𝐋𝐔𝐂𝐀 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐀Where stories live. Discover now