Royally Kissed | ✓

59; the purple moon

Paige gave off a shaky smile, flickering her eyes to the mirror before standing in front of it rather slowly. The seamstress then began to say things about the dress, practically describing the overall details of it. A beaded embroidered lace bodice, long sleeves, bateau neckline matched with scalloped designed, full silk tulle skirt. The dress was just like her, as her mother said. It wasn't flashy; it was timidly charming and elegantly put together.

It was evocatively romantic that exuded an ethereal flair, to say the least. So arrestingly reminiscent that she couldn't help but think about the person who needed to see it the most.

She blinked back the stung in her eyes before anyone could notice it, and smiled in a wide manner as she swallowed the lump in her throat.

"Seems like it's meant to be," she said.

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Several nights forward and only days before the wedding, Owen paid a visit to her and they lingered outside her balcony. They were fronting each other in the couch under a thousand stars; chatting about their day, their future, their lives together.

"Do you remember the time when we were still kids and we fought over a custard-filled éclair? The one at Casey Griffin's birthday party?" Owen asked, chuckling at the end of his question. She nodded as she reminisced the memory. "There were lots of éclairs on our table in different flavors, which were amazing by the way, but for some reason, you just liked the unpretentious one. You know? I mean, look, some of them had, like, berries on top, or the classic, the chocolate glazed; there's the strawberry cheesecake one – "

"I know," she said, grinning, "coffee, others were topped with walnuts or pistachios or whatever. Oh, yeah! There were lemon curd, blueberry, and almond teacakes, too. Those were so good."

"Yeah, but let's get back to the point. There was only one éclair with custard on ours, and you were royally pissed when I snatched it out of you after you've waited for so long for the others to play because you were so shy to take it?"

"Yeah." She shook her head with an eye-roll. "I cried, it's ridiculous."

"And I panicked," he quickly admitted with a sorry smile. "Like, those were some fat tears rolling down your cheeks and I've never wanted to gag out so much." They laughed simultaneously. "I just wanted you to stop crying and I ended up stealing the ones from the other tables. In return, I made the other kids angry at me. I didn't mind. All I knew was that I needed to get all the custard éclairs I could get just so you'd stop crying because I realized that I'd hate to see you like that again."

Her features softened, leaning closer so that she could place her hand down his shoulder. He was slightly tensed but visibly relaxed when he felt her touch. "And you've made me the happiest girl in the world."

"And we still have the rest of your life I've yet to fulfill," he told her in a quiet tone, almost a whisper. The last of echoes, perhaps.

He then fell silent, looking down at her other hand with the ring on it. Gingerly, he lifted it up and brushed his lips against her knuckles that made her take a deep breath. She leaned even closer and ran her fingers through his hair randomly.

When Owen looked up, his eyes were evocatively meaningful, making her tug up a smile even though she wasn't sure what to make of it. All she knew was that he cared so much just as how she did.

"Paige, do you love me?"

She blinked, stunned at the question. And his voice sounding so pained and strangled made the question more hard-hitting for her.