Weddings were wonderful. At least, Novia thought so, to a point. When they were modest and simple, and filled with food, she loved it. She always cried at them though, and while she couldn’t exactly complain about that, she could raise hell about the wedding she was currently attending.
At twenty years old and working as a covert operative with a dangerous set of skills, Novia had been to her share of weddings and events. They didn’t always end well but, it was the life she lived.
The mansion the wedding was being held at was decked out in pink and seafoam and even had a couple dozen ice sculpted swans. She thought it was all terribly excessive but the food was good, and as she helped herself to her forth (or fifth) shrimp cocktail, Novia took it all in.
It wasn’t as if she had anything better to do at that moment anyway.
It was a warm day in March, with birds singing and bees trying to have sex with them. Her target had been a one Hanson Smith, a necromancer with a growing cult and a taste for the blood, and had even attempted to open a portal to Hell using an orphan. Novia’s own blood mage had closed it in a rather dramatic way and had said something about how fucked up the whole thing had been. And the man had seen his fair share of fucked up things.
Unfortunately, Hanson had gotten away and it had taken at least four days to track him down. Under an alias, he attended his niece’s wedding with the hopes of giving her away and it was at said wedding that Novia found herself.
Dressed in a nude, short dress with an open back, Novia had done her make up to perfection and had swept up her long, thick black hair in a loose bun at the back of her head with a pearl comb. She had a small pistol strapped to her thigh, a semi-automatic in her purse–along with about, five steak knives she had swiped from the reception area.
And with about forty five minutes until the wedding started, Novia thought it best to occupy herself by stuffing her mouth with enough shrimp and tuna tartare to get mercury poisoning.
“Um…” said one of the caterers, watching as Novia took another piece of tuna tartare on a napkin. He had been standing there for a good three minutes. “Ma’am, I do have to make my rounds…”
She stuffed a twenty dollar bill in his vest pocket. “No you don’t.” Novia said after she swallowed her food. “Go get another of those shrimp puffs and get back here.”
“Yes ma’am.” He nodded, this time with a grin plastered on his face and scurried off back into the house.
Novia checked her watch. “…only forty minutes to go. God this is gonna be a long day.”
Evan loved weddings. Gosh, did he ever. He supposed it was the family aspect. Family was such an important and beautiful thing. Or maybe it was how everyone was so happy or the pomp and circumstance of it all; although, admittedly, there seemed an excessive amount of ‘pomp’ in this particular wedding.
Pink, seafoam….just…just a whole lot of pink and seafoam.
“But where do the swans come in?” Evan pressed his bodyguard. Standing over by a floral table with pink runner, he eyed the glass sculptures suspiciously. “I mean…Pink and seafoam leave kind of a coral reef vibe. Would explain all the seafood…Are swans at the coral reef?”
“Maybe we should google that.” Evan popped a shrimp puff into his mouth which freed up his hand to slip into his suit pocket for his phone. “Coral reef is in Australia, right?”
The bodyguard remained silent with blank expression.
“Don’t give me that look, Mr. Orange. You know you don’t know either.” For reasons completely unknown to Evan, he was compelled to walk. Perhaps it was some universal law of cellphones: one must text and walk at the same time. Perhaps it was some evolutionary Darwinism thing and eventually the world would develop heightened senses to manage eyes on a screen and directional movement.
But, today, it only caused Evan to be unaware of spilled champagne on a marble floor. And for his shined loafers to slip on said liquid. Instinctively he attempted to right himself which only caused him to twist.
And ‘French dip’ right into the arms of another.
Looking up into a gorgeous–and equally surprised–face, he took in the bluest eyes he had ever seen and grinned bashful.
titsay
2087
turnnoffyourmind
theartofmadeline
