Finally, the ceremony winds to an end, and as everyone starts to stand and move in an orderly fashion to form a line circling around the church and up to the altar, I edge slowly away from Harry. Immediately I miss the contact, but even this small distance reminds me that I have a plan to stick to. Harry stretches out his limbs slowly, a lazy smile on his face as he catches me staring.
"You didn't tell me it was gonna take that long." He teases, and I smile back.
"Just you wait, we're barely half-way done."
I feel like I'm warning myself as I say that, reminding myself that the day is far from over. I wish I could just forget about this, that it isn't the only thing that races through my mind, but there's too many things around me, especially now, that remind me of the feelings I'm harbouring. God, what I would give in this moment to go back to before Harry came back, or better yet, to go back to before he even went to X-factor, when the only thing I had to worry about was getting my schoolwork done before dance class.
Harry follows me without question as I stand and make my way to the end of the line of people. It's shortened slightly but it'll still be another few minutes until we reach the front of the line.
"So, what now?" Harry asks, leaning softly against the wall, acting as if his suit probably didn't cost more than everything in this church.
"We have to go up and congratulate everyone in the wedding party, like give them best wishes and stuff. Then we wait for them outside, so we can throw confetti and things, and take family photos after that. And then," I continue, taking an exaggerated breath which makes Harry smile. "We finally go to the reception."
I expect Harry to sigh, or roll his eyes, or seem even slightly irritated at the fact that this day was barely beginning, but he simply smiles at me again, and nods. There are a few moments of silence as we shuffle forward in line, a silence that would've been a comfortable one if it had been two weeks earlier, but now I can't help but feel overly cautious about every move I make, as if Harry would be watching me.
When we finally reach my cousin, I expect her to simply smile and thank us for coming, there's not enough time to have a conversation in this line, even though somebody always tries. There's still a few more people waiting behind us, so I'm ready for a brief interaction, maybe a look of surprise when she notices Harry, but nothing else. So, when my cousin looks at Harry, and then smiles at me widely after I say congratulations, I feel nervous.
"Yiayia told me you brought your boyfriend with you."
I can feel my mouth open and my eyes bulge when the words finally hit me. My first thought is wondering how exactly that little old lady was able to start spreading rumours in the middle of a wedding, and then the heat hits my cheeks as I fully realise what exactly she's saying.
"I – uh – He's not my boyfriend." I splutter, glancing back at Harry, who's looking at me with a weird expression that I can't quite place as I rush to expel the thought from everyone's mind, particularly my own. "No, no, Harry's just a friend."
I turn back to her, seeing her smirk at how uncomfortable I am, but before either of us has the chance to say something more, the person behind Harry, pushes themselves forward impatiently, pulling my cousin down for a kiss and forcing us on to the next person.
I refuse to look back at Harry as we continue down the rest of the line, that expression on his face when I glanced back at him still the only thing I see. He had been smiling, I know that, an awkward smile that hadn't surprised me at all. But there had been something in his eyes, that if I didn't know better, I would've thought was a glint of disappointment at how quickly I had shot down my cousin's statement. I could have latched onto that as miniscule proof that Harry might, maybe possibly, feel the same way about me as I do about him, but I brush it off as me projecting it onto him.
The blush on my cheeks doesn't die down until we finally get out of the church, and the brisk wind pulls me out of my embarrassment. After taking a settling breath, I turn back to Harry, with an apologetic smile on my face.
"Sorry about her."
Harry just smiles as if it was nothing, which to him, it probably was, and then holds out his elbow as an invitation for me to link or arms. I slip my hand effortlessly through the little loop.
"It's okay. You shot it down pretty quickly though. Are you embarrassed of me?"
"No! No, that's not what I was saying at all. How could I be embarrassed of you as my boyfriend? If anything, I'd like, gloat about it. If it was true, I mean, because it's not, your definitely not my boyfriend, but I'm sure you'd be a great boyfriend. Just not to me -." I rush to defend myself, to reassure Harry that that was never my intention, but when I finally glance over at him I see him giggling at me, and my mouth drops, and my cheeks go read for the nth time in the past hour as I realise what he was doing. "You're teasing me."
He just laughs in response, his hand coming to pat mine where it still grips onto his elbow, as I shake my head. "You're actually the worst."
"You still love me though."
I roll my eyes, trying not to let myself agree with him too easily. God why did I think I could do this?
"Just a little."
Harry laughs again as I bump him slightly with my hip. When we get around to the front of the church, we're given some confetti cannons that we're meant to use when the couple exits, and Harry takes a little bottle of bubbles as well.
"You know those are for the kids, right?" I say, watching Harry twist the top of the bottle off and then proceed to blow the bubbles toward me. I can't help but watch the way he brings his lips together to blow, how his hands practically dwarf the bottle. He smiles at me brightly, taking no notice of my comment, and I can't help but smile back. Harry turns away from me, his ring adorned fingers bringing the top of the bottle to his lips again. I watch him as he watches the bubbles fly away.
"Do you ever think about how we're at the age now where all of our friends are like, getting married, and having kids?" Harry asks suddenly, still watching his bubbles pop. I wonder how he can change so effortlessly from acting like a child, to thinking about how he's one of the last of his friends to be single and childless. Unwittingly, I tilt my head to the said, imagining how he would be with children, how kind and thoughtful. How he would crouch to their height, and the way he would hold and comfort them. It's not until he glances back at me expectantly that I remember that I'm meant to answer.
"Your friends maybe, not mine. I don't know, it feels kinda weird doesn't it?" I've barely thought about it, I suppose I had other things that I was envious of my friends for, not necessarily their marriages and their kids. Thinking about it now, seeing my cousin who's only a year or two older than me at the altar, there's a part of me that's wondering when I'll be up there. In a few years they'll probably be having their first kid, and I'll probably still be hiding my feelings for Harry. "Do you think about it?"
He lowers the bubble wand slowly, thinking for a moment before he looks at me. "A part of me feels kind of indifferent about it, but then there's a part of me that feels like I'm missing out on it, or that like my time is running out. Sometimes I feel like maybe I've already met the person I was meant to marry but that I messed things up or something."
I can't help but wonder which of his past girlfriends he was talking about. If one of those girls has left such an impression on him that he still thinks about them, that he can still imagine a life with them. I can feel my heart drop at the idea that he already had someone in his life who he could have seen himself growing old with, but I bite my lip as he studies me, hoping he can't tell what I'm thinking.
"I mean, after everything we've been through, you somehow managed to fix things with me. So, I'm sure that if that's really true, you'll be able to turn things around with whoever you think you ruined things with."
Harry smiles softly, almost wistfully. There's a moment of silence – between us at least – as he stares at where the bubbles had been before they popped, while I continue to stare at him as if he's a constellation in the night sky. He turns to me suddenly, his mouth opening as though he has something urgent to say, something impulsive, but before a single word can come out the church doors open and the rest of the crowd around us erupt into cheers as the newlyweds exit. For a moment Harry and I stare at each other, and I can feel my heart racing at the idea that he was going to tell me something important. I almost feel like grabbing him and ordering him to tell me what he was going to say, as though it was going to be the words I want to hear. But I don't.
Harry turns around to let off his confetti cannon, and I follow suit, trying not to think about how beautiful he looks against the backdrop of raining colour.