Roses [h.s]

Chapter 16

We chat for a few more seconds before I drag Harry away, telling Sienna that I have to go say hi to all of the oldies before they think that I hate them. She lets us go with a cool smile, but I know that as we turn our backs to her, she'll be letting out a silent scream, and I can't help but smile at the thought.

I introduce Harry to my grandparents in my broken Greek, and they greet him in their broken English. I feel my heart flutter at the way he has to bend down to kiss my grandmother on the cheek, and as I watch him shake my grandfather's hand, I almost miss what she says to me.

'He is very handsome." She says in Greek, not bothering to whisper. "You two are a very pretty couple."

I blush profusely, and before I have time to correct her, Harry looks up and sees my red cheeks, and asks me what she said.

"Uh, she – she said that you're very handsome." I splutter out, trying not to imagine Harry and I as a couple. He smiles sweetly at my grandmother, which doesn't do anything to stop the blood rushing to my cheeks.

Thankfully, that's the moment when the doors to the church slowly creak open, and there's a rush of noise as everyone starts to make their way in. Of course, my grandparents rush as quickly as they can to make sure that they're at the front, as if they'll miss out on something if they're not fast enough.

"We going in?" Harry says, coming back to my side. I quickly brush a hand against my cheek, trying to assess how red my cheeks must look as I struggle to get my grandmother's comment out of my mind.

"Uh, yeah."

We take our time walking inside, not worried about getting in first, or making sure we had a good spot. I notice a few people, the younger girls specifically, craning their heads backwards to try and catch a glimpse of Harry. I knew that people would talk about him from the moment I asked if he wanted to come with, but when I glance over at him, he smiles down at me obliviously, as if he doesn't notice the stares, or doesn't mind them.

Once we enter, I drop a few coins into the collection box right near the entrance and grab two of the thin candles laid out neatly beside it. When I hand one to Harry, I notice him look at me quizzically and as I cross to the other side of the entrance I explain.

"It's just a customary thing, when you come in you light a candle and send like a prayer to people who need it, or for loved ones. I thought you might want to light one for Mum."

I turn away before I can catch his reaction, but when I light my candle from one of the many others already standing and stick it into the sand beside them, I see Harry's hands following suit from the corner of my eye. I'm not a religious person but I make the sign of the cross habitually, remembering how I had followed my mother's example the few times we had gone to church. Tears suddenly spring to my eyes as I remember the way she would smile at me when correcting me for using the wrong hand, and how she would lift me up and hold me so that I could kiss the icons as we walked past them. Instinctively I reach for Harry's hand, squeezing it softly to try and keep the tears at bay.

He doesn't drop my hand as we continue through the small entrance and make our way to the pews. Only when we take a seat in one of the furthest rows on the bride's side of the church does he let go and place his arm along the back of the seat, behind my head, his hand hanging down and brushing softly against my shoulder. I watch him as he looks around, taking in the dark wooden pews, the small, simple, stained glass windows, and then the altar, lined with a wall of golden, intricately painted icons of saints that separate the congregation from the sacred area reserved for priests and altar boys. The groom stands up at the altar, chatting with his groomsmen as we all wait for everyone to get seated and the procession to start.

"Can I ask you a question?" Harry says, turning to me, and I'm hypersensitive to the way his knee innocently brushes against mine. God, I can't wait for this day to be over, so that I can take a cold shower and then spend a week avoiding Harry until these feelings subside. But in this moment, I just nod and wait for his question. "I know you're not like super religious, but if you were going to get married, would you do it in a church like this?"

The question stumps me on two fronts. One, because I wasn't expecting Harry to ever ask me about marriage or weddings, or anything even remotely related. And two, because when he asks, the first image that pops into my head is me standing at the altar, in a beautiful flowing wedding dress, staring into Harry's eyes as he stands opposite me. I blink quickly, hoping that that will make me forget what I just saw, and I try to stop myself from blushing, but I don't think that that's possible, so instead I turn my head away and act as if I'm contemplating the answer.

"It'd be nice, I guess. I don't know, it really depends on whoever I marry. Would you get married in a church?"

"If the girl I married wanted to, yeah."

I bite my lip, trying to ignore the thoughts the jump into my head of Harry agreeing to get married in a church if I asked him to. Thankfully, that's a lot easier when the procession starts, and everybody shifts in their seats to watch the entrance. Watching my cousin walk down the aisle in a beautiful white princess dress, smiling brightly under her veil, with her father leading her, it's easy to forget about everything with Harry. I can just think about how beautiful and happy she looks, and how much Mum would have loved to be here.

Once my cousin takes her place and smiles at her husband to be, the priest starts the ceremony. He speaks in Greek and even with what little of the language I know, I can't answer Harry when he asks me what's being said. I try explaining what little I can; that the little diadems connected by ribbon, placed on the couples heads and then intertwined three times by their best man is meant to represent unity, and the fact they walk around the table holding the gospel three times is to represent infinity, just like wedding rings, and their first steps together as a married couple. Harry seems so interested in everything I say and all that I teach him that my heart flutters a little and I have to tell it to relax, to tell myself that I need to have higher standards than a guy listening to what I'm saying. But it doesn't stop it beating faster.

I seem to always forget how long anything takes in church, and as time ticks on I lean softly into Harry and his arm resting on the back of the pew curls around me, his fingers circling my shoulder slowly. It's too easy to imagine that the gesture is more than friendly, and despite my resolution to pretend like nothing has changed, I find myself pretending that I've told him that I love him, and he's said it back, and that I have nothing to hide and we're sitting here like any other happy couple. Considering that we're literally in the middle of a ceremony about love, I give myself some slack and let myself pretend. 

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A.N. = uh this is completely unedited cause i'm lazy af, so if u see a mistake pls let me know