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They had met at a wedding, ironically. She was seated at a table with her be-speckled best friend, Clara and she had been the link that had brought them together, knowing them from college. He was seated with his own good friends, the man with the crazy afro and the arrogant one with the blue eyes and sandy brown hair. They had conversed about basketball animatedly with one another, and when her companion left to go dance with one of the groomsmen, she was stuck with nothing to say to three strangers who seemed to have little interest in her.

She had tried making conversation, she really had. The man with the afro had been kind enough, but he was working up the courage to hit on one of the servers, so she let him be. The man with the blue eyes had immediately turned her off; she had said something to which he responded with a sarcastic remark, and from that moment she had decided that conversing with him was not on the agenda for the night.

He, however, was different; with his dark black hair and brown eyes. He smiled at her softly and joked with her; ignoring his two best friends and asking Clara to switch seats with him so that he could sit beside her so they could talk. Then the music swelled and the man with the afro departed in search of finding the server, damn everything, and asking her to take two minutes to dance with him. Shyly, she had looked through her eyelashes and smiled at him.

"Do you dance?" she asked and he shook his head. "Oh, come on!" she prodded, grabbing his hand and dragging him up. "Everyone dances!"

It turned out he was quite the graceful dancer, having taken ballroom lessons as a kid. He never stepped on her feet and he twirled her in a perfect motion. As she giggled to herself and felt her heart thump in her chest, she looked over his shoulder and found the blue eyed man staring at her, watching them waltz. She narrowed her eyes slightly before shrugging it off, turning away.

He asked her to dinner later that night, and the rest you could say, was history. Many more dates were had and a commitment was made. Eventually, a promise of forever was requested and the snowball began rolling.

Things had been set in motion for nearly six months. The church had been booked, the reception hall decorated. Linens and flower arrangements had been selected and they had chosen the band weeks ago. The menu had been decided upon and together, they had sampled over a dozen cake flavors. Her dress had been a creation of lace and ivory; it was simple, yet complicated and so elegant that looking at it for too long brought tears to her eyes. She was in love with the idea of marriage and so in love with him and everything was going to be so perfect.

And then a month before the wedding, he died.

A/N: HEY! I thought I'd start the story!! Does it seem good? 

Just saying: Olly isn't Olly Murs the international superstar in this. He's not famous and that.

VOTE FOR MORE! 

XXXX

love came calling, twice // olly mursΌπου ζουν οι ιστορίες. Ανακάλυψε τώρα