Deluca

THIRTEEN

            In the back of the quiet limo, Francesco held onto Eleanor's hand as they made their way to the reception.

Eleanor still wore her veil, which had a slight tear in it. He knew it had to be his mother's doings. As if she knew he was thinking of it, Eleanor pulled it free from her hair and sat it on the limousine's seat before pulling out a select few pins from her hair, "This is killing me."

Francesco said little as they made their way to their next destination, but Eleanor had already expected that. He was his usual reserved self, likely preparing himself mentally for what was still in store for the evening.

She wished they stored liquor in the limo as Eleanor would need three shots just to feel like a normal human.

As they arrived Francesco stepped out of the vehicle, telling Eleanor to stay put as he would open her door.

They were instantly met with thousands and thousands of grains of rice as the wedding party stood in the street showering them with good luck. Francesco held tight as they rushed their way indoors to begin making nice with the hundreds of guests who had shown up to the reception.

The festivities were far from over, but at least they didn't have to remain so reformed. Now was the time to loosen up, if he couldn't do it on any other day, it would at least be today. The music was already heavy, and people had already lined the bar.

Francesco had chosen one of his favorite nightclubs in the city for the venue. It was industrial, but the now lights and flowers that covered it gave it a more feminine feel.

The bar was long giving many people space while the dance floor was large. He knew his family, they would all be drunk on the dance floor within a moment. Francesco gave Eleanor a spin before pulling her back to him. She was dizzy and as he made his way to the bar his mood seemed to lighten.

Or maybe he was just playing the role of the doting husband... Eleanor wondered.

"What do you think, Mrs. DeLuca?" he asked. He gazed into her eyes as though remembering the callback from the night in the kitchen causing Eleanor to blush.

Did he know what he was doing to her?

The sly smirk on his face revealed that he in fact did.

"I think it's pretty good for a rushed fake wedding," Eleanor said with the same smirk.

Francesco only chuckled before pulling his wife towards the bar, the meal had been devoured before the ceremony so now all there was left was simply to party. He ordered himself a scotch while Eleanor ordered herself a vodka cranberry. Francesco had never seen a wasted Eleanor, but this couldn't end well for her. They both quickly downed their drinks before grabbing another. She felt more and more herself with every sip, feeling the hesitation from earlier slipping away. Eleanor glanced around at the crowd that had formed of jovial guests looking for the familiar face of Jemma. Eleanor hadn't seen her since their moment in her room. She found herself shaky again, but it faded away when Francesco grabbed her and pulled her towards the dance floor.

Francesco pulled her to the center of the dance floor as everyone surrounded it. Giselle came up and tied a streamer around Francesco's wrist, then another on his right wrist.

Eleanor gave Giselle a questioning look as Giselle did the same to Eleanor's wrists.

One after one, members of the party did this until both Eleanor and Francesco's wrists were decorated.

"Hold tight," Francesco said as the music game on, fast and racing just as before. Eleanor was now completely confused, "It's called La Tarantella. It's a dance for good luck." Francesco explained over the loud music.