Madzie smacks her lips, tongue darting out to lick the wayward clump of ice cream on the side of her mouth before Magnus even has a chance to wipe it away himself. She cocks her head, one eye scrunching up adorably, “But what does a flower girl do?”
Alec hmms, considering her question while he sucks the cookies-and-cream off the end of his spoon. “Well,” he starts, “You throw flowers up the aisle that me and Magnus are gonna walk on.” Alec huffs, unhappy with his explanation. He reclines back on his elbows, wriggling into a more comfortable position on the picnic blanket they’ve set out. “I mean if you think about it, you get to make a huge mess without getting in trouble and you don’t have to clean it up after.”
Madzie raises her eyebrows; gaze skeptical, “That doesn’t sound right.”
Magnus laughs, loud and clear, “We wouldn’t lie to you, Madzie.” He shrugs, fingers returning to re-tying one of Madzie’s undone laces. “It’s just something they do at weddings. You’d get to dress up real nice and scatter petals about and everyone will think you’re the cutest thing they’ve ever seen,” Magnus concludes, a painted nail coming to bop Madzie on the nose.
Alec grins at the way Madzie scowls at Magnus’ retreating finger. “You don’t have to do it, Madzie. We just thought we’d see if it’s something you’d want to do with us.”
The wind picks up softly in the trees. Madzie’s hair flutters. Some strands get loose enough to find their way into her ice cream.
“So I make a path of flowers,” she says, “So you guys don’t get lost?”
Magnus snorts, teeth glinting in his wicked grin, “That is an excellent summation, sweetpea.” His gaze turns playful then, eyes filling with mirth: “Alec’s sense of direction is atrocious.” Magnus promptly ignores the hey! and swat at his shoulder.
“I think it will be fun,” Madzie decides, plunking her spoon back into the chocolate-bubblegum concoction that Magnus was and still is skeptical about, “So I guess I can be your flower girl.”
Alec shakes his head at her dramatics, smile radiant enough to dwarf the afternoon sun. Magnus can’t help the tightness he gets in his chest, looking at two of the most important people in his life so carefree; so happy.
“Plus,” Madzie adds, smiling sheepishly at the chocolate stains on her dress that have gone largely unnoticed. “Mama says I’m good at making a mess.”
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