This Is Stella's Reality

June 15, 2015

Seven A.M.

Nine hours until I was married.

Natasha and I sat in the bathroom of her suite. Tony had booked the entire floor of some fanciful castle-esque hotel in the heart of Paris. It was beautiful with its golden and ivory white gilding, floor-to-ceiling windows, and glittering chandeliers.

My heart was hammering in my chest. This wasn't the real, final wedding. We were eloping. This was meant to be a more casual event, but I still felt so much anxiety to look and be perfect. I knew Bucky didn't care, all he wanted was to be able to call me Mrs. Barnes.

The thought alone made a smile creep across my cheeks as Natasha and I did a skincare routine. She was humming along to a pop song, dramatically turning to me and singing in a hairbrush when it got to the chorus.

I grinned at her. My best friend. She was my maid of honor for both the elopement and the wedding. She had our entire itinerary practically memorized: where and when we needed to be somewhere, what I should be wearing, the whole day planned to the second.

There was a knock at our door. "Breakfast," someone called. Nat and I exchanged confused glances. We didn't order breakfast, but Natasha moved to answer the door.

She came back with a grin on her face. "Your soon-to-be-husband sent us a feast," she winked. "There's a note." She handed me a small card, sealed around the edges. I took the card between my fingers and gently broke the thin tape with my trembling fingers.

Dear wife,

Today feels like a dream. I can't even begin to describe how much I love you, how incredible and special you are to me. Love of my life, this afternoon can't come quick enough. I hope you and Nat have a beautiful day. Enjoy the breakfast. I'll see you soon.

I love you, my goddess,

Your husband,

Bucky

P.S. Steve says good morning, and he loves you.

My heart swelled, and I grinned down at the note, moving to slip it into my luggage before joining Nat at our dining table. She was looking at her notes for our itinerary, humming to herself and drizzling honey over some toast.

I sat beside her, peeking at her long list. Her eyes caught mine, and she smirked. "Nervous, babe?" She asked almost wistfully.

"Yeah," I breathed with my burning throat. "Just a little."

She laughed and pushed a plate towards me. "Well," she mused, "I would say you only have to worry about today, but you're getting married again in a few months." Her eyes were watching my face as she smirked. "Don't worry. You're a goddess. I wonder if he's nervous right now?" She tapped her finger to her lips, pulling out her phone and texting Clint.

The boys were all together, probably drinking and celebrating all through the day until we left for the hillside in seven hours. We agreed to keep ourselves separate until rejoining in the flower field, seeing each other for the first time just before our vows.

My anxiety returned, picturing what I thought Bucky would be wearing. What would anyone be wearing? Natasha and Pepper had picked out my dress for me, beautiful and chiffon. It was cream, almost blush pink, and it hung just around my knees in a lovely puff of light and airy fabric. The sleeves fell off my shoulders, clinging to my arms in loose clouds of the sheer material.

There was another knock at the door, and Pepper stepped inside, on the phone and talking hurriedly in a language I couldn't understand. She waved at us, huffed, and hung up the phone. "Long day already," she sighed before sitting next to me. Her hand lifted to my arm, her eyes dazzling and kind as she smiled at me. "How are you?" Her voice always made me calmer; it was soft and song-like.