Seokjin rarely had difficulty with the art of persuasion, but it took a little more effort for him to convince me to relinquish control of our wedding planning to him. We went back and forth even after I initially agreed, under the influence of pleading lips that promised perfection. Across one another for meals and in the car on route to his appointments I found myself in need of more details, frustrated with the way he walked the line of sharing information.

"Faye and Dad will be present for the wedding to sign the marriage certificate as witnesses." When I'd asked him about the number of guests.

A shrug to accompany my inquiry about color schemes or themes. "There isn't really one."

And when I'd come to him about the overwhelming amount of money he seemed to be spending for a wedding that he said would only include two guests, he waved me off completely.

My mouth pressed into a hard line at his disregard as he turned back to the meat he prepped for grilling. He chuckled when I let the metal bowl I'd been mixing ingredients for a sauce in clatter a little too loudly against the countertop, rinsing his hands to attend to the disdain I felt at his ambiguity.

"If it's that bad I'll tell you everything I'm working on." He leaned against the island, wiping his hands clean with a towel. "But it'll be worth it to wait."

I kept my eyes on the bowl, a million little questions forming in my head. When we first discussed him taking over, it seemed like an easy yes. I didn't have very particular visions of my wedding day. The ultra poofy dress and classic five tiered cake I imagined as a child now felt outdated. Meeting him at the end of the aisle was the only sure thing.

"Okay, but are we doing anything after? Like maybe a dinner with the four of us? I wouldn't mind still having a first dance." I tapped my pinky against the sauce-covered spoon, lifting it to his mouth to taste.

"A little chili oil." He noted, moving to the seasoning cabinet and returning with a jar. I scooped a small spoonful to mix in, passing him the concoction to cover the meat. "I have all of it covered and everything will be solidified by the end of next week. Trust me, and if it comes to it, let Faye reassure you tomorrow." His hands were sticky with glaze so he craned his head, beckoning me for a kiss as acceptance of his suggestion.

I'd been assigned only two tasks for the wedding day, to choose a dress for myself and a ring for Seokjin. Still, he'd arranged for my flight to New York City, a weekend of shopping and playing dress-up with my best friend.

I went from struggling to leave Seokjin's arms as he saw me off to my flight to bounding into Faye's open ones when she greeted me at landing, holding up a little sign with my name as if she were my driver. Our chattering was nonstop, on the ride to her apartment and through half of the box of pizza she had delivered. She even perched on her vanity while I showered, leaving the door cracked to let out steam while she gushed over the Bronx born man who claimed that he'd met his future wife when she was shoved into him by an aggressive passenger on the subway.

Seokjin arranged several appointments at high-end bridal shops. We were met with bubbly at each, the first boutique stocked with dresses that weren't made for a woman with my waist to hip ratio despite having assured Seokjin otherwise.

I didn't let it discourage me. Instead, we stopped for hot dogs at a street cart between the first and second store, where I narrowed my style a little further. I was more keen on ivory than stark white, floral appliques over crystals. We counted out any dresses that used taffeta, the swishing noise of the material at my every movement sending Faye and I into a fit of laughter.

Much to the stylists initial dismay, Faye followed her through racks of dresses, making the final few selections. They returned to the fitting area with dress bags slung over their backs, the weight leading them to move a bit slower as they put their first selections on display as if in a competition to see whose would be chosen.

Faye's first pick, while beautiful, was a little more difficult to move in with a hem that became a vice around my ankles, every step threatening to send me to the floor. Seokjin wouldn't have complained, but I couldn't envision being pleased with having him carry me down the aisle.

"This gown is simpler, but we can always add accessories to bring more sparkle or enhancements." My stylist commented while securing the satin buttons up my spine with expert speed. She was beaming at the perfect fit of the gown, smooth fabric that I could have spent all day rubbing my fingers against falling over every contour of my body.

Faye was practically applauding when I stepped from the dressing room to show off the dress among a wall full of mirrors. I glanced into each one, having to look over my shoulder to see into the last.

"Can we do a veil?" Faye asked, clarifying as my stylist scurried away to a display. "Elbow or fingertip length."

While we waited she did the same for me, holding out for my response to the look. "It's really pretty." I commented, reaching to pull one of the straps so that it fell off my shoulder.

"Pretty" wasn't a descriptor befitting of the dress I'd wear on one of the most important days of my life, even with the veil.

Faye was behind me, thumbing through the fabric clasps that held the gown to me when the stylist reappeared. She carried a veil that draped over one arm, a jewel encrusted belt tucked into the other.

"Would it be okay if we take five?" Faye requested politely. The stylist was agreeable, grabbing a few of the already repackaged and rejected dresses to hang in the showroom.

"She probably thinks I'm having second thoughts about getting married." I laughed though tears sprung in my eyes. I didn't know why exactly, maybe because of the release at the final hook to my corset, freeing me of the slight restriction I felt in the garb.

We took a seat on one of the benches reserved for additional family and friends. The skin at the top of my back had been pinched one too many times to fit me into the dresses that were already sewn deceptively, so that I needed two sizes larger than I'd typically wear. My hair was tied in a loose elastic, messy strands hanging down from dresses being continuously pulled up or over my head. Wedding dress shopping had always been portrayed as fun and emotional in the series I watched, but the reality was sweatier, defeating.

I plucked at my nails, white polish chipping from where I crumbled it at the edges. "The dresses are incredible Sel." Faye said, and I knew it was a genuine compliment. She was always kind in letting me know if I needed to pair different shoes with my outfit, or today, if the dress had so much lace that I'd spend the day scratching at my arms or wasn't the one. "What's really wrong?"

"How am I supposed to choose a dress for a wedding I know nothing about?" I groaned, Faye clicking her tongue. "The dress could clash completely and I'd like to be on theme for my own wedding."

It was trivial, but I wanted to get the two tasks I'd been given for the day right. With Seokjin at the helm of planning the rest, I needed to match his effort.

Faye laughed, as if she were waiting for the opportunity to spill a few details. "It'll be very romantic, with lots of florals. Think of springtime."

I nodded, glancing over at the final dress Faye had chosen. It was the first gown she picked and now her eyes were drawn back to it, dreamy and blossoming with flowery overlays.

"Come on, let's have the stylist get you into it while I call Seokjin to tell him I had to spoil a little." She stood, leading me back to the fitting room for my last go at being laced and cinched into the perfect wedding dress.

Choosing a band for Seokjin was even more difficult, with little variety among men's rings. Those that provided some dimension felt like a contrast to him, details that gave a more rugged look but didn't suit him.

In the end they were details that would be brought together and accentuated by his meticulous curation of our wedding. I was a bundle of nerves in nearly every moment before walking down the aisle, through the following two weeks while he continued running around with secret plans, and even more during the arrival of Faye and my dad when the three of them seemed to be running around with shared secret plans.

Seokjin drove us out to The Hewing Hotel two days before the ceremony was set to take place. The building was like much of downtown Minneapolis, set in a renovated warehouse who's outer appearance was underwhelming compared to some modern venues. The inside was breathtaking, exposed brick and grand windows with a constant view of the skyline.

He showed me to the ceremony area, currently bare-walled and set with a conference table. "Just fifty-two more hours." He turned toward me at the helm of the room, where I'm sure he was picturing an altar. We concluded the night on the rooftop bar and with a stroll a few blocks away from the hotel before returning to my weekend suite, christening the bed of another luxury hotel.

He was fighting sleep, trying to utilize every moment, the way we always did on nights that felt extra special. I giggled against his neck at the heavier breath he took, pulling him back from where he drifted.

"Talk to me about something so I'll stay awake." He mumbled, words strung together and cut off at the edges. I laughed again, already in the middle of recounting the first and last time I climbed onto the rooftop of my childhood home when he dozed off.

"It's okay, let's sleep." I said, drawing my leg further around his hips.

His head shook so slowly, moving from left to right only once before replying. "Faye's coming to kick me out in a few hours."

The pout in his tone told me that he still wasn't happy with my unwillingness to cave on the superstition of being apart the day before the wedding. I'd heard it all over the past week. Some days he tried to break down the historical context, informing that it was an outdated idea used during prearranged marriages to prevent a husband from backing out should he find the bride unattractive. When that failed he turned to more baseless points, namely that he didn't want to.

Now, he used that same tactic, sleepily stuttering over the word before letting his eyes shut for the night. "It's a stupid stuper–super–stuperstitition."

Faye was running behind her expected arrival time, much to Seokjin's satisfaction and my dad's disdain. He was always prompt, insisting that she finish her last-minute project on the drive down to Minneapolis.

We utilized the couple of hours it would take for them to drive, and since Seokjin wasn't supposed to see me, I insisted on blindfolded fun.

Seokjin was as stubborn as always, the trait emerging even more when he drank. Apparently he and my dad spent the evening on a bar crawl, one that ended with him landing at the outside of my door after making sure my dad got to bed.

My phone had been ringing by my ear non-stop, back to back calls that coaxed me out of sleep on the fifth. Seokjin was loud, incoherent as he ranted at me with the phone on speaker.

"I can't go to sleep without you." The end of every statement was drawn out, his voice noisier with each step I took toward the door, now coming through the composite and device.

"You slept fine without me when I was in New York." I laughed, the repetition of my reply through his phone coming a second later.

I hung up, close enough that I could hear him clearer. "Bullshit." He replied, a soft thud sounding as he let his forehead fall to the door. There was shuffling, a grunt.

"Tell me what you're doing."

Another thud, lower this time. "I'm sitting, since you won't let me in."

His fingertips peeked through the small gap beneath the door, beckoning me to join him. I sat with my back to the frame, reaching down so that the pad of my fingers slid between his in the smallest hand hold we could manage. "Am I going to ugly cry tomorrow?"

He responded with a half chuckle, half hiccup. "Yes, but you're still so pretty when you ugly cry." He insisted. "I'm having Snoh perform during the ceremony. Faye says that'll make you cry the worst." Another hiccup.

"Bullshit." I echoed his earlier profanity, always used more often when he'd been drinking. "There's no way you did that. How?"

"A lot of phone calls and a lot of money." He admitted. I wasn't sure if he fully realized he'd started spoiling his own plans.

"Seokjin, that's too much." But I was beaming, and I'd continue to with each reveal.

He excused himself at the same time someone else did, likely a guest attempting to move past the man sitting in the middle of the hallway at three in the morning. We both stood, our cue to get to bed. "I'm just getting started. Goodnight baby, see you at the altar." I could have sworn he pressed a kiss into the door from the loud smack of his lips puckering, his voice fading down the hall to the tune of Luther Vandross' "Never Too Much."