Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Relationships: Kinomiya Takao | Tyson Granger/Tachibana Hiromi | Hilary Tachibana
Characters: Kinomiya Takao | Tyson Granger, Tachibana Hiromi | Hilary Tachibana, Original Characters (Hilary's Mother)
Tags: Romance, Hurt/Comfort, Domestic Fluff, Family Drama, Wedding Fluff, Marriage Proposal
Summary: Life continues to take unexpected turns for Tyson and Hilary as they come into adulthood and they learn that things only get better when they're together.
Note: This fic can be read as a stand-alone piece, but to get a better idea of Tyson's family situation, you might want to read the first two parts on AO3 following the link below.
27 Years Old, Autumn - Chapter 3 of Better Together
˚ ✦ . . ˚ . . ✦ ˚ . ★⋆. ࿐࿔
Hilary couldn't remember the last time she had been surrounded by an invisible weight so heavy that it felt like the air around her was closing in like walls, cutting her off from the rest of the world. Clasping her hands together as subtly as she could in order not to draw attention to herself in the middle of the priest's sermon, Hilary attempted to keep a track of the beat to which her chest rose and fell with every breath. She was thankful that even with the terrible anxiety and nausea that seemed to be waiting to take over, her body still managed to perform its regular functions without her having to be conscious of it.
On top of everything else, she did not want to interrupt her wedding ceremony to catch her breath.
Her eyes remained fixed at the altar, even if her mind did not fully register the words that the priest was addressing the room with. If anyone asked her about it later, she would blame her inattentiveness on having to manage the weight of the kimono she had donned.
Trying it on in the comfort of the boutique and actually walking through the length of the shrine wearing it had been two very different experiences, something that she would warn all of her single friends about in the future. With the white hooded veil covering her face, Hilary could not even express her discomfort to anyone . She even started to feel guilty about how slowly she was moving and how it would affect the flow of the event, she did not want to cause any delay in the schedule for the shrine and their guests.
It was then that she noticed how Tyson was matching her pace with patience, taking slow and careful steps next to her, eventually reaching out to hold her hand tightly right until they had reached their positions in front of the altar, reminding her silently in that moment of the reason why she had decided to marry him.
Even now, Hilary knew that the minute she could get a chance to look at Tyson's face, she'd feel better.
But there was still time until the part in the ceremony where the bride and groom would be allowed to face each other began, so she couldn't keep the restlessness she was feeling at bay.
However, she recalled that her mother had warned her that the shrine maidens or mikos always kept a watchful eye on the couple for any rude movements throughout the ceremony. Which gave Hilary no choice but to be wary of the gazes fixed on her as she tried to keep her hands from fidgeting needlessly. To distract her mind, she attempted to take in as much of her surroundings as was possible through her limited line of sight, and luckily, that included a glimpse of Tyson's torso. She was surprised to see that he had copied her stance by keeping his hands clasped in front of him too.
She'd noticed that at the beginning of the ceremony, his hands had been at his sides, so he probably moved them to match with her, making sure that any of the mikos wouldn't come forward to scold her about this later.
Hilary returned her gaze forward, hoping that focusing on the priest's voice would help her to curb the tightness in her chest and the tears welling up in her eyes.
From the beginning, Tyson was against the idea of a traditional wedding ceremony.
He'd argued with her for days that it would be too stiff and neither of them would really be able to enjoy it. It wasn't that Hilary didn't agree with him on this, but she felt that to maintain his public image as a kendo practitioner, it would be best to follow through with the traditional ceremony. As much as he tried to sound cool by stating that he did not care about his public image at all, both of them knew that that was not true, so Hilary's pick won, as it always did.
To add to his misery, Hilary even gave him an ultimatum to fix his hair before their wedding, which turned out to be a fun group activity for their friends, and a nightmare for Tyson. When he came home two days ago with his long, unruly hair cut down to a tailored short length that barely covered his neck, leaving only his bangs still spiky and untouched, all Hilary could do was suppress a smile as she pulled out her phone to send a thank you message to Max, Kai and Rei.
She knew that with things not going his way, Tyson wouldn't really be in the best mood today, so she'd prepared herself to accept his grumpiness without complaint. She assumed that once the difficult part at the shrine was over and they moved to the hotel for the reception party, he'd feel much at ease, and she'd humour every single one of his requests to balance the scales.
What Hilary had not prepared herself for was how calmly Tyson would breeze through every crisis that befell them on the morning of the big day, giving her the space to let her emotions slip through the cracks of her cautious demeanour.
Firstly, the old school priest at the shrine they'd picked for the ceremony was not happy with the idea of both the groom and the bride reading the vows aloud.
The groom is supposed to announce their commitment in front of god, the bride is only supposed to follow along in her mind, the priest had said.
Since Hilary was getting her make-up done at the time, she couldn't exactly jump out of her chair to fight for herself, but she watched through the reflection in the mirror as Tyson silently walked up to the priest with a hardened expression on his face and guided him outside the room without a word. When he returned, he just sent a smile in her direction, telling her that the priest had agreed to let her speak after all, not giving any further explanation as he hopped into the changing room to get dressed.
Then, right before they were supposed to sit down to write and sign their vows, Tyson's father approached them.
Without any invitation to do so, he aired out his opinion about how he thought that Tyson and Hilary were not valuing the true meaning of a traditional ceremony by inviting so many friends to be a part of it. Hilary knew that Tyson didn't like to argue with his father, so she'd opened her mouth to talk back, but Tyson slipped his hand into hers, gesturing for her to stop. He then held his father's gaze with the same hardened look he had given to the priest. In a very aloof tone, he told Tatsuya that if he was unhappy with how things were being handled, he was more than welcome to not participate.
You'll do well to remember that you are only a part of this because of obligation.
Because I am a good son, not the other way around.
His bluntness shocked even Hilary, so of course, Tatsuya had been too stunned to say anything. He only meekly nodded in response, walking away from them and then choosing to maintain a respectable distance for the rest of the ceremony.
Naturally, after all of this, Hilary was feeling a bit nervous when the washi paper and the ink were laid down in front of them, but not Tyson. He picked up the brush eagerly and painted each stroke with confidence and ease. Between the two of them, he had always been better at calligraphy, so Hilary was expecting him to do a good job with the vows, but she wasn't expecting to see the proud smile tugging at his lips at the sight of each stroke gliding across the paper with a satisfying swish.
She couldn't understand how he was managing to stay so positive, even as everything that he had pointed out would go wrong in a ceremony like this, did go wrong. On the other hand, she was struggling to keep herself from anticipating more mishaps, more mistakes, and instead of looking forward to the ceremony, she was starting to dread it a little.
When it was her turn to sign the vows, she picked up the brush with hesitant, shaky hands. Max had joked about this a week ago, about how if Tyson misspelt a single character, their vows would take on a very different meaning. And yet, right now, it wasn't Tyson who was having difficulty putting the brush against the paper to simply spell his own name.
Hilary was worried about what the people around them must be thinking, she was worried about what Tyson must be thinking. Her hesitation was not because she was having second thoughts about their marriage, she wanted to say that out loud and curb any suspicion that may be forming around her, but her lips trembled as much as her hands, her voice dying in her throat as every irrational fear of hers started to stretch its roots in her mind.
She would have let out a cry of help if she could, but then Tyson proved once again just why she really didn't need to.
His hand gently took hold of her wrist, and while that did not stop the shaking instantly, it definitely allowed her to take a deep breath and clear her mind. Slowly and steadily, he guided her hand across the paper, spelling out her name in strokes much more beautiful than she could have managed on her own. The hooded veil did not feel like a nuisance in that moment, she was glad that she could only look at Tyson, after all, he was the only one who deserved her gratitude and her apology.
She probably should have asked for some time to calm herself down after that, but she was worried about the ceremony not proceeding well, so she swallowed her discomfort and took solace in the sight of how handsome Tyson looked standing tall next to her, every inch of his face glowing with a bright spark that could only be described as joyous pride.
But now that the priest's sermon stretched on and Hilary was kept deprived of her only source of energy, she worried how long would she be able to hold onto her feelings, how long would she able to stand just a hair's length away from Tyson without holding his hand, how long would she able to push down the barrage of thank yous bubbling up at the edge of her throat, just how much longer was she supposed to keep her love for Tyson caged up when everything he did for her only made her want to set it free?
The sharp tune of the bamboo flute cut through her thoughts with ease, making Hilary lift her eyes and face forward. The priest was stepping aside from the altar, and the shrine maidens were now making their way towards her and Tyson, carrying a tray filled with three differently sized cups and the ceremonial sake. One of the mikos moved forward and made a gesture with her hand, letting them know that it was time to turn and look at each other, placing herself in between the two of them at a slight distance.
Hilary wished that she could look happier as she finally got the chance to face Tyson, but since she was still very much overwhelmed, it was impossible to hide the tears welling in her eyes. When Tyson looked at her, a flash of concern flickered through his eyes, so before he freaked out and interrupted the ceremony, Hilary shook her head slightly as an attempt to let him know that she was okay.
He didn't look convinced and was trying to fight off the frown settling on his face while taking the first small cup from the shrine maiden into his hands. She watched him touch the cup to his lips for a brief second before he lowered it towards her. Hilary took this chance to rest both of her hands against his for a moment, conveying to him that she really was okay, before taking the cup and tilting it upwards to touch her lips.
While handing the cup back to Tyson, she felt her cheeks get warm when he rested his hands on top of hers, squeezing them lightly before he took hold of the cup.
It wasn't just the reassuring care that he packed in that slight touch that made her blush, but even exchanging the cups between them and taking sips from them felt like such an intimate thing to do that she was embarrassed by the thought of her parents and their friends watching them do this. This was one of those rituals she wouldn't have minded taking Tatsuya's unsolicited advice for, making it a memory that only she and Tyson would remember. But knowing that she had to face her parents after this made her feel more sheepish, though she was grateful that she wouldn't have to kiss Tyson in front of them.
Hilary didn't quite understand the logic behind this tradition involving the sake cups, where they were supposed to pretend to drink the first two cups. It was only when they took hold of the third cup, the largest and the one meant to represent their future together, that the couple was allowed to take a real sip of the liquor. She wasn't particularly bothered by the fake drinking part, in fact, she welcomed it, knowing just how much she disliked the taste of this ceremonial sake. So when the third cup was finally placed in Tyson's hands, she watched as he gulped it down with ease, absolutely no change in his expression as he handed the cup to her.
She tried not to look at the opaque coloured liquor with contempt, for which she had to close her eyes. As soon as she took the sip and the sake travelled down her throat with a sting, she pressed her lips together tightly to hold any reaction that may slip out naturally. She raised her eyes to look at Tyson while giving the cup back to him and saw that he was trying his best to suppress a smirk over her struggles to keep a straight face after tasting the liquor.
Well, after all that he had done for her today, she'd let him have this one.
And seeing him still be in the mood to play around was what she needed to pull herself together. As the cups in front of them were replaced by the vows, Hilary squared her shoulders confidently when she took the spot next to Tyson in front of the altar, snagging the opportunity to be as close to him as possible to keep herself from slipping into another irrational breakdown.
The vows they had signed together earlier were now offered to them in the form of a carefully folded envelope. Even the act of unfolding it was set to a sequence, which Tyson must have clearly practised in secret, because Hilary was in awe of how easily he opened it up and held it at a level which was good for both of them. She reached out her left hand to hold the vow from one end while Tyson held on to the other with his right.
Without any cues needed, the two of them began to read the vows out loud.
From today, we promise to love, to trust and to have faith in each other every day.
We promise to face every obstacle, every challenge that fate may have for us, together.
We promise to support each other through the good times and the bad.
We promise to abide by these vows throughout our lives.
We promise that the love we have for each other will remain unchanged until our last breaths.
The sound of their voices echoing around the altar, Tyson's louder than her own, dismantled every block of doubt Hilary had built up in her mind.
It felt as if they were speaking their future into existence. It did not matter what fate actually had in store for them, they'd already decided that from today, one of them would not exist without the other.
This is why they were gathered here today, to bind themselves to one another for eternity.
It didn't matter what anyone else thought of their decisions, it didn't matter that the day had not been as perfect as she had hoped for.
What mattered was that Tyson was next to her.
And perhaps the god that presided over this altar would be offended that the bride was speaking up, even though tradition dictated that she shouldn't.
But Hilary wasn't doing this for a god, or the priest, or even their family and friends, she was only doing it for Tyson. She needed him to hear those words from her, tradition be damned.
As they read the words out loud together, the conviction that grew inside of her must have reached Tyson too, because in the middle, his free hand slipped into hers shakily, though his voice did not waver even for a second. Entwining his fingers with hers tightly, he held onto her until the vows were folded and handed back, only letting go when they had to move forward to offer the sacred branch at the altar.
Hilary tasted relief on her tongue when she bit it to keep herself from expressing it through a deep sigh as the ceremony moved towards its final moments.
A final moment of silence was observed within the shrine as both her and Tyson bowed in gratitude in front of the altar. When they arose to clap in unison, bringing a ceremonious end to the prayer, Hilary realised that this may be the first time that the two of them wouldn't need to ask each other what they'd wished for. She turned slowly to find Tyson already beaming down at her, and when her eyes met his, she couldn't stop her own lips from curving into a big smile. Suddenly, the heaviness of her kimono, the discomfort of the veil, the stuffy feeling around the altar, none of it could bother her under the shade of Tyson's loving gaze. She could spend hours standing here like this, just looking at him and feeling the giddiness of the fact that they were now married.
However, there were still a few obligations remaining, one of which was the ring exchange. Tyson and Hilary were pointedly reminded of this when the miko who had carried over the tray with the rings presented on them coughed loudly in an attempt to grab their attention. A light chuckle went across the room as the two of them managed to tear their eyes away from each other and bowed their heads in unison towards the miko, who looked unimpressed by the apology.
Hilary didn't mind how hastily Tyson took hold of the ring and lifted her hand to slip it onto her finger. He'd already done it the right way when he proposed to her in that empty parking lot in the middle of nowhere. But when it was her turn, Hilary did take the time to look up at him and quietly mouthed I love you before she pushed the ring onto his finger. She didn't get a chance to check Tyson's reaction as the room broke into a light applause once she was done, and the priest promptly announced that the ceremony was over.
The shrine maidens began to serve the ceremonial sake to the guests, and slowly everyone took turns to walk up to the altar where Tyson and Hilary were standing to congratulate them. Hilary did feel content at the sight of the tearstained cheeks of her mother, and Max as well, she wasn't the only one who was overwhelmed with sentiment after all. She would've liked a brief moment where she could talk to Tyson, but there were just as many things to do after the ceremony, sending off the guests to the hotel for the next event, thanking the priest and the shrine staff, and a few customary photos, to name a few.
Though much to her relief, the minute the priest gave her the signal to take off the veil before the photos. Tyson didn't even wait for her to say anything and quickly undid the clips with which it was attached, setting it aside with a sense of triumph. Now that her line of vision was fully restored, Hilary started to perk up, flashing her best smile at the camera, as if she hadn't spent the last hour or so tiptoeing around a mental breakdown.
Perhaps it was the happy high that pushed her to take charge of things finally, but after they'd done one round of photos with her parents and then their best friends, Tyson was about to dismiss the photographer when Hilary grabbed his arm and gestured for him to stop. He looked at her, confused by her sudden interference, so she pointed towards his father and brother, standing not too far away from them.
"I don't think that's necessary…" Tyson muttered under his breath, despite holding her gaze stubbornly.
"You said it yourself, you are a good son. I don't ever want you to lose sight of that."
Reluctantly, he moved away from her and approached his family. His father's eyes immediately sought Hilary's when Tyson spoke to them, and she smiled at him from afar. Despite everything, she did not want Tyson to look back on this day and regret that he never even offered a redeeming chance to both Tatsuya and Hiro. It was easily the most awkward group photo of the lot, but the mood became a bit brighter when her mother and father joined in as well.
Her father, always the quick thinker, requested that Tatsuya and Hiro help out with guiding the guests to the reception party at the hotel as soon as the photos were done. He walked off with them, letting Tyson have his respite and space while still making the two feel like they were involved enough in his special day. Together with her mother and Tyson, Hilary watched as most of the guests emptied the shrine courtyard, a loud, exhausted sigh escaping her lips as she watched the last figure disappear beyond the stone steps.
Her mother laughed, turning to face the two of them, her eyes still bright with the remnant of tears awaiting their chance at freedom, "As relieved as you feel right now, the night is still quite young, you know. In fact, it has barely begun."
"I know." Hilary attempted not to groan at the thought. Why had the version of her from a few months ago decided that she could do both the traditional and the fun ceremony on the same day?
"You might feel better if you change into your dress before heading to the hotel," her mother said, pointing towards the rest area where they'd gotten dressed earlier, "I carried your dress along this morning, just in case."
"Mom, you are a lifesaver!" Hilary grabbed her mother's hands, since she couldn't move her arms around well enough to hug her.
"That responsibility is solely Tyson's from now on." She chuckled in response. Pulling her hands out of Hilary's grasp, she raised them to pat Tyson's cheek affectionately, "Welcome to the family, Tyson. Thank you for taking care of Hilary."
"I'm pretty sure it's going to be the other way around, but thank you-" Tyson paused for a moment, turning his eyes away from both Hilary and her mother. His face was a light shade of red when he spoke up again, making Hilary wonder just what he was about to say before he held himself back, "I won't let you down."
"It's odd how people say that we are supposed to feel like our daughters are leaving us on this day." Taking a step back, her mother smiled softly at both of them, "The way I see it, I've just gained a son."
Hilary watched as, for the first time that day, Tyson wavered and bared his emotions for everyone to see. His bright eyes trembled like the sea anticipating a raging storm, he blinked rapidly, and the tears were pushed back into the depths as he managed a grateful smile before bowing his head in response. When he raised his head, she could see that his nose was slightly red, and Tyson quickly used his finger to scratch at the tip, sniffing and then clearing his throat right after to drown any sound that may have escaped. She wanted to tell him that it was okay if he wanted to cry, but since he'd done her too many favours today already, Hilary kindly turned her gaze away.
"Now I must hurry along and see to it that your father doesn't go overboard with his hospitality," her mother said, after a few minutes of silence. When Tyson nodded enthusiastically at her words, she relaxed her shoulders "You two, take as much time as you need, alright? This is a party being thrown for you. You're allowed to be late."
When her mother looked pointedly at Hilary, she knew that the last part was meant for her. Maybe she hadn't done such a good job of hiding her worry over being a nuisance all day after all. She turned her head away, mumbling back an incoherent retort which made both her mother and Tyson laugh.
Despite the reassurances, when she and Tyson were finally left to their own devices, they knew that they didn't have any time to waste. Tyson offered his arm to her as soon as her mother turned her back on them. She wordlessly grabbed onto him with both of her hands, allowing him to steer them towards the changing room at a steady pace as she kept a diligent watch on the long sleeves of her kimono to keep them from touching the ground.
Inside the changing room, the staff from the stylist team were already waiting, and when the two of them entered, the women immediately went up to Hilary to help her. She caught the hint of a pout on Tyson's face as he was sidelined and the staff busied themselves around Hilary, and she had to suppress a smile as she watched him pick up his suit and head to the makeshift cubicle where he could change in private with shoulders slumped. She wanted to call out to him and tell him that it was only a matter of a few minutes. Once the kimono was taken off her and tucked away neatly, Hilary would be able to move more freely. But the styling staff had a lot of questions for her, distracting her attention towards the clothes being ruffled around her.
Tyson was so used to getting in and out of formal hakamas because of kendo that he managed to change by himself with ease. Something which Hilary envied, because she didn't just need help with the kimono, there was also the dress she'd chosen to wear to the reception party. The upper half was an ivory lace-covered corset with intricate floral details. The skirt that followed gave a fluffy and bouncy look as it swayed airily around her, coming to stop just an inch above her knees.
Tying the corset at the back was something she definitely needed help with, so even when Tyson stepped out of the changing space, fully decked up in his tuxedo, bowtie and pocket square in place perfectly, she did feel a tinge of guilt that she couldn't run up to fawn over him instantly. As the staff moved around her to make sure that the dress was tightly in place and there wouldn't be any fashion mishaps even if she decided to let loose on the dancefloor, Hilary watched Tyson daudle around the room, and even while standing at a distance from the corner where she was changing, she could feel the tension radiating off of him in her bones.
Clearly, he wanted a moment alone with her as much as she did with him.
But Hilary was the one who'd dug this hole for both of them, where they weren't allowed even a minute to themselves today, so she tried her best to salvage what she could for them, at this moment.
"What do you think, Tyson, should I let my hair stay up?"
She repeated the question one of the stylists had asked her as they did the final checks around her dress. Tyson's ears perked up at her voice, and he looked at her from across the room, leaning against the sliding wooden entrance that was currently shut, with his hands stuffed in his pockets. When their eyes met, she could almost see the current that passed between them light up the room with a momentary spark. She couldn't help the deep blush from covering her cheeks and neck when his intense gaze fell from her eyes to her lips, then her neck and then her shoulders, currently bare as the corset of the dress was tube-shaped.
"I think you should let them down, if you don't mind."
Hilary nodded, unable to find her voice as she knew exactly what he was picturing in his head when he stared at her like that. She gestured for the stylist to follow his advice while she busied herself with making sure that everything had been arranged just as she wanted. One by one, all the pins and clips came out of her hair, and she could feel her head feel just a little bit lighter when her hair cascaded down her shoulders. Moving to get a better look in the mirror, Hilary decided to let the clips holding back her bangs stay in place while the rest of her hair was left in its wavy state, resting softly between her bare shoulders.
She even decided to take this chance to inspect her make-up, while one of the stylists offered to touch it up, Hilary did not want to make Tyson wait any longer, so she politely declined. After exchanging a few customary greetings and congratulating them on the wedding, the two ladies finally made their exit. When the door slid shut behind them, Hilary breathed a sigh of relief, closing her eyes for just a minute to catch a hold of herself, but Tyson, who had crossed the length of the room surprisingly fast, was already wrapping his arms around her waist and had pulled her into a tight embrace before the breath even escaped her lips.
"We're married," he whispered in her ear, sending a shiver down her spine when he planted a soft kiss on her cheek.
"I can't believe it's done." Hilary allowed herself to relax into his chest, sighing contentedly when he rubbed his cheek against hers.
Hilary wanted to take this chance to thank him for being such an anchor for her today, but Tyson's patience must have run out a while ago because he quickly loosened his grip around her waist, just so he could put both his hands on her hip and turn her around to face him. Hilary opened her mouth to say something, but Tyson immediately pressed his lips to hers, burying her common sense away with his kiss.
It was obvious that he had been holding himself back for a while from the way he couldn't keep his hands still for a moment. One moment they were combing through her hair, the next they were sliding across her neck to her collarbone. With one hand, he traced the hem of her corset, pausing at the dip of her neckline, while the other hand slid across her side to seize her waist, pulling her hips forward until they pressed against his abdomen.
A restless moan escaped her lips when she realised that she would have to be the one to pull away. There was no way that the two of them would be capable of tying her corset back up once it was open, so she wasn't happy about putting her hands on Tyson's and guiding them away from her body, but it needed to be done. He must've caught on to her intent, because with a disappointed grunt, he broke the kiss almost as quickly as he had initiated it.
"Thank you for everything you did today," Hilary said in between ragged breaths. She looked up at Tyson's confused reaction before she smiled and snaked her arms around his waist and let her head rest against his chest.
"Just- everything." Hilary mumbled into his shirt, "I love you. And I'm sorry I was such a mess when we were writing the vows, oh god-"
"I love you too." Tyson quickly interrupted her, wrapping one hand around her waist. "That's not something you need to apologise for."
"But you were so calm and I-"
"I wasn't calm at all either, I think it was just my excitement taking over." He laughed, and she felt his body shake against her at the gesture. After a minute, he used his free hand to cup her chin and raise her head upward so she could look at his comforting eyes when he spoke next, "Anybody in their right mind would lose it after hearing the priest and their father-in-law-to-be run their mouths like that."
"Don't be mad at your father, please," Hilary said, sighing at how quickly his face scrunched up into a frown at the idea. "I think he was just feeling left out of the event in general."
"Which was done for a reason." Tyson rolled his eyes, "But yeah, I'm not mad at him. Not anymore." He added as he closed his eyes and brought his head down to rest his forehead against hers.
"God, will you hate me if I say that I kind of just want to go home now?" In the comforting warmth of his arms, Hilary couldn't stop herself from speaking her mind, "I know it sounds terrible when I was the one who fought for two events but-"
"It was exhausting, wasn't it?" Tyson rubbed his nose with hers gently, trying his best not to take a triumphant tone when he spoke. "To be fair, if you'd asked me this during the priest's long sermon, I would've said yes, but now I just feel so excited!" He added, letting out another energetic laugh, which was infectious enough to make her giggle in response.
"I want to walk into that hall and shout at the top of my lungs that you're my wife and I'm the luckiest man on this planet."
For that, he deserved a kiss, so Hilary leaned in to give him a quick reward, which he gladly accepted.
"Everyone's waiting for us at the hotel," Hilary said after breaking apart, unable to hide her disappointment.
"Your mother did say we could take our time if we wanted to."
She nodded at his suggestion and turned around to rest her back against his chest as she attempted to inspect her face in the mirror once again.
"I'm glad I decided not to get my make-up redone, or my fresh lipstick would've been all over your face." Hilary smiled at her reflection, sneaking a glance at Tyson through the mirror.
"And I would wear it as a badge of honour," he said, puffing his chest out proudly.
Laughing at his smug expression, she confirmed that her face hadn't yet lost the bridal charm and straightened up, smoothing out any creases across her dress that Tyson may have unintentionally left behind.
"Well, let's look at this way. The sooner we make it to the hotel, the sooner we can go back home, and you can help me out of this corset."
She shook her head, grinning at how obvious it was to see the moment the bulb lit up in Tyson's head and he lunged forward to grab her hand.
"Let's go, let's go, there's no time to waste!"
Dragging the two of them out of the room hurriedly as Hilary laughed, he pulled out his phone from his pant pocket and dialled the number of the driver they had hired for today, asking him to meet them at the shrine entrance as soon as possible. Once they left the wooden structure and the path shifted to the cobbled stones, standard for any shrine, Hilary stumbled in her heels to keep up with Tyson's energy. He didn't waste a minute in turning around to just grab her by the waist and hoist her up in his arms, making her laugh until her stomach started to hurt.
When they arrived at the hotel, her mother greeted them at the lobby and eyed the giddy expression on her face curiously. They followed her to the hall, which had been booked for the party, coming to a halt outside the entrance doors. Her mother slipped back in to prepare for their entrance on the other side, while Tyson and Hilary stood side by side, facing the door as they waited for it to open.
"Are you still nervous?" Tyson asked her, as he took her hand into his own and intertwined their fingers tightly.
"No, I think my days of feeling nervous are behind me now," Hilary said as she smiled up at him, pressing her shoulder tightly against his.
"Bold words." Tyson leaned down to leave a light peck on her forehead.
"Not if you promise to stay by my side like this, forever."
The doors opened with a creak to the sound of applause and some mild hooting as the happy, smiling faces of their friends and family came into view. Tyson and Hilary looked at each other one last time, a silent vow passing between them which wasn't very different from the one they'd read aloud earlier at the shrine.
Facing forward in unison, they took the first step across the threshold, together.
