Quaint.

Quaint?

No, perfect. Absolutely perfect.

As Violet's eyes scanned Tyler's apartment, the grin on her face grew wider and wider until she no longer could feel her cheeks. The pale blue walls and cream sofa chairs embraced her as she stepped three feet past the door. She recognized pictures of her sister's old classmates plastered on the walls, and she even caught sight of teenage Shannon Weaver, red solo cup in her right hand and a boy in the other. This place had a 'home-y' feel to it, that was sure.

She smirked. Shannon probably had water in that cup. No way was she drinking.

"You hung out with Shannon at parties?" Violet quipped, tapping the frame that held a photo of her sister. "Did you ever see her plastered?"

Tyler rolled his eyes before letting out a husky laugh. "Shannon? Drunk? The strongest drink that she poured in her cup was Pepsi."

Violet's eyes continued to skim the myriad of photos on the wall. Shannon was in a multitude of these--actually, she was the focal point of most of the photographs. Shannon would be the center person in a group photo, usually the only female in the photo. 

"Did you have a thing for my sister?"

Tyler laughed, making his way to what Violet thought was a kitchen. She chucked her shoes and her baggage into the nearest corner and followed, enjoying the carpet in between her toes. He opened a cabinet, taking out two teal coffee cups and rose one of them up in the air, his eyebrow raised. Violet nodded in response.

"Who didn't have a thing for your sister? I definitely did. God, she was hot," he closed his eyes. "She was the kind of girl that you could bring home to your mother and have a great time with. The only thing was that she was a little too much of a perfectionist for my taste, but I mean, her other qualities outshone that fatal flaw of hers."

She raised her eyebrows. "But, you never asked her out?"

Tyler scurried across the kitchen, grabbing a bag of instant coffee in one hand, milk in the other, and a spoon in his mouth. "Ihadnoballs," Tyler mumbled through the spoon, gagging as he tasted the metal.

"What?"

"I had no balls," he coughed, taking the spoon out of his mouth. "I was a football player who was failing most of his classes. I was attractive, yeah," he paused, smirking, "but I didn't think that was enough for Shannon. Now I feel like I could be, so if she's not dating anyone..."

"Engaged."

Tyler rolled his eyes, placing the items on the kitchen table. "Yeah, of course, she is. She's a catch."

The blonde girl pursed her lips in response. Of course, Shannon was. Shannon was pretty, popular, talented, kind--and what about her sister Violet? Violet was not any of these things. Sure, she was attractive, but her sister was gorgeous. Sure, she had hobbies, but she was not particularly great at one of them.

Violet was average. Ho-hum. Normal. Nothing special.

"Yeah," she ran fingers through her hair, "I know. I've heard that a lot."

Tyler paused. "I mean, you are, too!"

She smiled. Why did guys think that all girls were so insecure? It was fine if others complimented her sister around her. 

"Thanks..." she trailed off, trying to find a way to leave this subject.

Tyler smirked, picking up his glass to take another huge chug. "This guy she's engaged to must be perfect too if Shannon allowed him to put a ring on her finger."

Perfect? As if. This guy was sweet but a mess. 

"Perfect?" she huffed, "He slept with me when he was--"

Tyler spat out his coffee, drenching the table in front of him.

Oh shit.

"Why are you just so depressed all the time?"

Shannon Weaver frantically brushed the tangles out of her golden locks at she stood in front of the full-length mirror in her closet. She stopped, taking a peek from the corner of her eye at Noah, whose face was half-covered in shaving cream.

Noah placed the razor back onto the counter-top. "Depressed? Me?"

Shannon sighed. She's noticed the difference in Noah's personality in the last two months. Before, he was carefree. It was like he was baggage-free; no burdens were weighing him now. Now it seems as if...as if something was constantly bothering him. He woke up every night that he stayed at Shannon's place at exactly four in the morning and took a two-hour walk around the block. He almost tried to avoid eye contact with her...

I hope he's not getting cold feet.

"I just," the blonde's voice faltered, "I just feel like we're disconnected. There's just something up, and I can feel it in my bones."

From the corner of her eye, Shannon could see the back muscles in her love tense. He picked up the razor once more and nonchalantly began swiping the cream off of his face.

He coughed into his arm before beginning to speak. "Shay, you're imagining things. You gotta stop. We're fine. Everything is fine. Let's just drop this and get ready to go to bed."

Thoughts whirled around Shannon's head. Fine? Fine? Fine? How was everything fine? She was wearing herself thin with all these wedding preparations. Her mother saw her wedding as, in her mother's own words, "the wedding of the century." She was swept away in the morning prior to work, during her lunch hours, and in the night after work for fittings, food tastings, and color swatch picking. It was absolutely exhausting. The worst part of the whole process was that Noah would barely try to be there. He always had an excuse...

And Shannon was done.

Slapping the hairbrush onto the counter, she spun to face him. "Imagining things?" she spat out, her voice laced with venom. "Noah, you barely even want to touch me anymore! It's like I have the plague."

She began to close her mouth, but she decided to drop the bomb.

"And there is something up. If you don't tell me right this minute, I'm giving you back the ring, and the wedding is off."

Noah gasped, as he felt the thin metal of the razor nick the skin under his chin. Cursing, he grabbed a towel and held it to his face.

"Honestly, why can't you trust me? I don't get it. If I say everything is fine with me, everything is! You don't know my body, and you don't know how I'm feeling at this exact moment. So, let it drop for once, alright? Not everyone has to be happy every fucking moment!"

Noah boomed at Shannon, dropping the razor and bloody towel onto the floor. Tension filled the room as Shannon and Noah stared at each other intensely. Shannon twisted her head, attempting to figure out what to do next. He was truly lying to her. Was it his job? Was it the stress from the wedding? Shannon thought she knew Noah well enough to figure out what was gnawing at him.

Guess not, she quipped to herself.

Her fingers gently wiggled the ring at her finger.

It rose slowly up her finger until it hit her lilac-colored nail.

But, then, she stopped moving it.

She had to stop being so melodramatic.

Noah picked up the towel, knowing Shannon was never impulsive enough to make such a rash decision. Every single action in her life was extremely calculated. Everything needed to be perfect.

Perfect.

"So, is the wedding off? Or can I just go to bed? I have a huge case in the morning," Noah replied sardonically, wiping the remaining goo off his chin. He took one good look at himself in the mirror before chucking the rest of his supplies into a nearby bin.

"Yeah, you can go to bed. You can go sleep on the couch, jackass," Shannon seethed, running out of the room before he could see the tears cascading down her cheeks.

Didn't he know that she cared about him? Didn't he know that over the course of their relationship, she had placed made him the center of her world?

Of course not. She sniffled before throwing the covers over her head. Maybe, just maybe, if she went to bed, she would wake up, and everything would be perfect.

"You know, Shannon, I think that's the first time I've ever heard you curse. I'm honored that it was because of me."

She heard a mellifluous chuckle, and no matter how hard she tried, she could not stop the smile itching to appear.