My heart tears from my chest, beating at an obscene rate. It's much too high, it's not healthy. It could do some damage if I'm not careful. It continues to pound as I try to take in the three words. I read them again and again. Marry him? With a big white dress and a page boy? Who's going to walk me down the aisle?
What the fuck? What do I do? Oh my God, there's no way in hell I'll be able to go back to sleep. Shit shit shit. My heart rate has gone through the roof. I lay on my bed, closing my eyes. I try to cool myself down. I try slowing my heart, which is pounding erratically. Yeah I love him, but marriage? Am I even cut out to be married? Would I make a good wife?
Who wants an overly masculine wife who can't even cook? Not that Marcus needs food. Oh my God. Coffee, I need coffee, like now. I close the damn box and leave the note, rushing off to the kitchen. Once there, I boil the kettle and scoop two teaspoons of coffee each in three mugs. I'll need lots of coffee. Why not make three mugs? When the kettle boils, I can hardly contain myself. I add a dash of milk in each mug and carefully pour the water, stirring each one in turn.
Caius makes his way in, looking confused. "I thought I heard something." He mumbles. His eyes widen at the three mugs of coffee, before staring at me. "Three? All for you? Are you sure that's wise?" He looks concerned. "I've barely slept, I've had a nightmare and now Marcus has....." I trail off, taking a sip. I down the first mug in an instant and throw it into the wash bowl. He rinses it for me quickly, before turning his attention back to me.
I take the other two mugs and walk into the sitting room where Marcus and I had our movie night together. I place them down on the coffee table. Caius sits beside me, eyeing me cautiously. "I need coffee." I explain. He nods, going to the window and opening the curtains, revealing the first patches of daylight coming in. "You mentioned Marcus, what's happened?" He asks.
"Nothing," I huff, turning on the TV. "If I am going to adopt you, that would make me your father. I'd like you to tell me things." He coaxes. I scowl, taking in more coffee. "Marcus proposed." I grunt. He sits up, eyes gleaming. "Proposed? As in, wedding? Husband? Wife?" He checks. I nod, scrolling through the TV channels, until I come across Netflix.
I search through until I find Catching Fire and press play. "I hate my life." I drink more coffee. "Well that's a very promising attitude," He scolds. "Fuck you. I'm nervous. I don't look like a woman. How am I going to look in a white dress? I'll look ridiculous." I slouch in my seat. "Relax, Lee. Everything will be alright." He kisses the top of my head. "Now, drink your coffee and watch the film."
Afterwards, I've downed another two cups of coffee, making that five in total and Caius is not amused. "Too much coffee is bad for you." He scolds. "Yeah yeah, so is marriage." I mutter. To my surprise, he laughs. "Marriage can be a wonderful thing. With the right person." He adds. "Yours and Marcus's marriage will work beautifully. Trust me. There'll be no housework to be done or cooking, so there'll be no need for any gender roles." He points out.
"There'll be nothing but love and equality." He smiles. "And I, as your father, would love to walk you down the aisle." He kisses my forehead before removing the mugs. "Speak to Marcus again." He says. "I can't! I haven't made up my mind yet." I groan miserably. "There now," He murmurs. "Marcus will understand. If you're not ready, he'll be fine with it." He strokes my head.
"Tell him how you feel." He advises, then he's gone. I turn off the TV and with a heavy heart, I head back to Marcus's room.
Knocking on the door makes me realise I do not want to do this. But I guess there's no backing out. Marcus opens the door and stands there, surprised.
"Lee!" He smiles. "I thought you'd be alseep by now. You should know you don't have to knock. Just walk in." His arm goes around me. "I went back to my room." I start, nervously. "Ok," He says. "I found the ring, and the note." I hunch in my seat. "Good." He smiles. "No, it's not. Marcus, I can't marry you." I cut to the chase. There's no point hiding anything.
His expression doesn't change. "Ok, darling. I understand." He smiles again. "Would you like an early breakfast? It's six o' clock." He says. "Uh, aren't you upset?" I ask, shocked by his calm demeanour. "No, I'll wait forever for you." He smiles, before narrowing his eyes. "Unless you've chosen Demetri?" He asks. "No! Not at all! I chose you!" I protest. He looks momentarily relieved. "If you want Demetri, you can have him." He offers. "Tell me you want him and I'll let you go." He sighs.
"No, because I don't want him. I want you Marcus Volturi." I sniff. "I'm old, I'm not attractive, I'm traditionally old fashioned, boring, I don't get out much and yet you, eighteen years old, want me?" He checks. "Yeah, and I'm aggressive, ill mannered, annoying, I barely smile, I don't have friends, no family and yet you want me!" I protest. "Don't you get it? We love each other for who we are!" I stand up and kiss him lightly.
"You're saying this to me and yet you don't want to marry me?" Marcus looks confused. "Again Lee, I don't understand you." He rubs his chin, deep in thought. "Ok, so I have some trouble with the wedding. Some problems." I mumur.
"Go ahead," He sits back at his desk.
"What am I supposed to wear? I haven't got the right figure to wear a dress. Second, I don't want to be turned into something I'm not. I won't speak with some posh accent like the wives do. I'm not growing my hair long or wearing make up. Thirdly, who am I supposed to invite other than Liam? My side of the seats will be empty." I huff.
Marcus nods, taking everything in. "You don't have to wear a dress. You can wear any suit you'd like. Secondly, I'm not going to turn you into anything. Keep your hair short, you know I love the way you look. And no offense darling, but I don't think you'd look that great with make up on." I throw a book at him. "What?" He defends. "You'd look like a transvestite!" He says.
"Ok, that is just rude!" I scold, tutting at him. "Please let me finish." He mutters. "Thirdly, we'll combine the seating so it'll be a mixture of my family and yours. Don't forget, by the time the wedding is here, your adoption would have been finalised. You'll have a mother, a father and a brother." He reminds me.
"True." I mumble. "So, now that I've relaxed you, calmed you down, gotten rid of your wedding fears, have you changed your mind?" He asks. "Yes, Marcus you have. I'll marry you."