To Have and to Hold || Berly
Write a thread with someone who is not Meg that is wedding related
Lymantria was getting married.
This was, still, a fact she could not believe. Even with Megara at her side — sleepily making coffee in the morning, lazily resting her feet on Lymantria’s lap in the afternoons, reaching for her in the middle of the night — Lymantria could not believe it. She’d spent so long believing that she was unloveable, that the idea of romance and happiness were so far removed from her, that sometimes she woke up in the middle of the night, heart thumping, almost fearful to look over, just in case the space by her bed was empty, Megara just an illusion she’d conjured for herself that would disappear once she lost stamina.
But, no, Megara was right there. Snoring a little. She was there and she was warm and she was very, very real. She smelled like honey. It brought a smile to Lymantria’s face and she closed her eyes and fell back asleep.
Today, she was going to do something important. Their wedding would not be a traditional affair, but there were certain things Lymantria wanted to do. She had no family that would come, but they’d both agreed that their family were the friends they’d made in Swynlake. Most of them came from Pixie’s, but Lymantria had also tucked a little letter in Dr. Tibbs’ mailbox, that was somewhat of an invite (they did not have a date, so it was more like a little announcement). She’d also video-called Maui, who shouted in excitement and immediately told her he was booking a ticket to be her best man and she was not allowed to say no. She laughed, but then the idea of a wedding party in general lingered in her mind.
This would not be a traditional affair with white dresses and churches and in-laws and diamond rings, but the idea of bridesmaids and best men and groomsmen and maids of honor did cross her mind. And Lymantria decided that she wanted two people by her side, so here she was sitting in a usual booth in [name redacted] waiting for Berlioz.
It was an odd friendship they shared, maybe to the outside eye, but Lymantria found comfort in it. It was not something either of them needed to consciously nurture; they ebbed and flowed together like the tides and sometimes they were in sync, and other times they were not. It was not an issue. In fact, it was rather easier not to have to deal with the formalities of saying sorry for not replying and instead having a mutual understanding that sometimes life happened and sometimes responses weren’t necessary.
Lymantra felt a little nervous. She did not know why. After all, Berlioz was married himself — though he hadn’t been at the celebration. Lymantria was happy that he and Simba had gotten married the way they wanted, though she did not linger at the reception much after learning that. She did momentarily consider a quiet little wedding like that, but if there was one thing from her childhood, from her mother’s family, that she remembered, it was big, festive weddings as an excuse for the community to get together.
Lymantria did not have a family like that; but she had a little family of her own and she wanted everyone she cared for to be there for this.
Maybe Berlioz would understand. She hoped he would.
She spotted him now, but instead of just waiting for him to approach like she normally did, she stood up. Lymantria could not help the smile that blossomed on her face, the color that touched her cheeks. She beamed and the minute he was within earshot, the news bubbled out of her.
“Berlioz,” she said, breathlessly. “I’m getting married!”
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