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Dottore sat the front row, staring at the floor in front of him. He wish he had his champagne bottle, but he left it in the reception hall. He didn't want to be here.

The music changed, and he heard the door open. Everyone turned to look at the bride.

Y/n was beautiful, her white dress fit her figure perfectly, but Dottore knew what lie underneath.

A smiling face, red cheeks filled with love, eyes only for Childe. It pained him, yet he couldn't look away. He watched as she walked down the aisle, watched as she walked up the steps and stood in front of the love of her life.

Dottore's eyes stayed glued to her, not listening to the vows they said to each other. Tears welled up in his eyes, his soul shattering as she smiled at Childe.

"Childe, do you take Y/n as your lawfully wedded wife?"

"I do."

Capitano looked at Dottore, watching him from the best man spot. He was curious to see if he would do what he said he wod do.

"Y/n, do you take Childe as your lawfully wedded husband?"

"I do."

The priest smiled. "If there any objections, speak now or forever hold your peace."

Capitano watched Dottore.

Dottore couldn't do it. He wanted Y/n to be happy, and she was happy with Childe. He kept his mouth shut and looked away from the alter.

"You may now kiss the bride."

Dottore stared at his string, wishing it gone. He wanted his feeling gone. He wanted this fucking string gone.

~

Later that night, Dottore retired early, going up to his room. He sat on his bed, holding a pair of scissors. He raised the blades to the string and closed it.

Nothing happened to string. It stayed whole. He cried, opening and closing scissors, begging the string to be cut.

"Fuck!" Dottore shouted, throwing the scissors into the wall. He fired, pissed at himself. Why did he have to fall? Why did the string have be on her finger?

He opened his eyes, staring at the string. It moved, on its own. Dottore wiped his eyes, in case he saw it wrong. He didn't. It kept moving, going slack then going tight again.

Then it stopped.

Dottore watched as it began to dissolve, watching as the string on his finger dissolve into nothing, like it never even existed. It was gone, just like he wanted.

So why was he still so sad?

Red String || DottoreWhere stories live. Discover now