The sun glistened golden-orange in the sky, slowly dipping towards the horizon. Its final rays carved the ceremony with a glowing, flame-like silhouette. Adrien felt the warmth of it on her suit, and resisted the urge to adjust the lapels of her sleeves for what had to be at least the hundredth time. 

        She couldn't believe she was getting married.

        The wedding was relatively small―for a billionaire, at least. There were about two hundred guests. Security had been stationed all around the resort building, with snipers on the rooftop. The guards alerted Adrien of a kidnapping attempt as often as once or twice a year. Nobody had made it far past her security since she was nineteen, though, when a Bosnian hitman had held her at gunpoint in the gym changeroom. She'd disarmed him herself―his mistake was using an artillery weapon at such close range. And then she'd gotten rid of her entire team, which Julien had gifted to her at fourteen, and hired her own bodyguards. Now each and every last one of her thirty-six security team members had blackout-level clearance, hired from various international intelligence services.

        Out of the thirty-six, nineteen had been assigned to Muse.

        Not that Muse engaged in particularly dangerous activities during her daily life. In fact, her security was probably bored as hell. But Adrien liked knowing Muse was just as well-protected as the President of the United States.

       The thought of Muse, again, made Adrien fight the temptation to shift from foot to foot. She couldn't believe she was this nervous for a fake wedding.

       Adrien had walked down the aisle with Phoebe. Now, Phoebe and Agnes waited on one side of the altar, and Ezra, the best man, waited on the other. Next to him, Pegasus had been fitted with a pink-jewelled collar and a black bowtie. He seemed to somehow understand the importance of the wedding; instead of bounding away, he patiently observed the crowd.

      The sun kept sinking towards the horizon, too fast. Shouldn't Muse be here by now?

      The priest shuffled the pages of the Bible. The soft strum of violin and piano wound through the beach, filling the silence. 

      What if Muse had gotten cold feet? What if she'd freaked out about the wedding and decided she couldn't go through with it? What if she'd found out the deal with Adrien's father was no longer intact, and Adrien had lied?

      After Ezra had threatened Adrien with the promise of telling Muse, they'd argued. If Adrien glanced to her left even now, she'd see Ezra's disapproving stare. She had retorted that he didn't have the right to tell her.

     "Fine," he had said. "I'll let you live out the consequences yourself."

     Adrien resisted the urge to twitch again. She shouldn't be getting married. Not anymore. There was no deal between her and her father. There was no reason for this. Except that she wasn't ready to say goodbye to Muse. And that was selfish. That was so selfish. Because she knew Muse didn't love her back. Hell, would Muse even care if she called off the wedding now and never saw her again? 

      She would probably be relieved.

      Maybe she wasn't even coming right now. Maybe she had already left, and called it quits on the wedding and the bullshit and the charade. Adrien couldn't blame her for leaving her at the altar. In fact, she should probably tell the priest this was over, and cancel this whole damn thing. It would be far more humiliating to wait and wait for a bride that would never arrive.

     The seconds kept ticking by. Every minute felt like an eternity.

     Adrien opened her mouth―to say what, she didn't quite know. That the wedding was over, the priest could go home, everybody could go home. Muse wasn't coming. There was no way.

     But the music drifting across the beach shifted, playing a new chord. Canon in D.

     Adrien closed her mouth and looked towards the aisle.

     The sun, midway through the sky, cast the crowd and the ceremony in a golden halo. The white petals scattered down the aisle looked like beads of fire, and Muse―Muse looked so soft and beautiful, like candlelight given flesh. Dressed in white, her golden-brown ringlets tumbling down her shoulders, her face shining in the last of the sunlight. She held a bouquet of white lilies, like an afterthought. Her silky white dress danced around her thighs, each of her steps careful and slow, but not hesitant. Not unsure.

      Adrien let out a breath without meaning to. She was here. 

      Muse's eyes found Adrien, and neither of them looked away. Adrien didn't know about Muse, but she knew if a hurricane started on the beach, or a sniper started shooting at the guests, she wouldn't have noticed. She couldn't look away. Her attention was wholly on her fiancee, her almost-wife.

      And the same thought echoed in Adrien's head, so familiar―the same one as always, every time she saw Muse―that she was too beautiful to be real. That there was no way she could stand there, and be so perfect, and be real. 

     Especially in this moment, as Muse slowly ascended the steps of the altar, and took her place facing Adrien. The priest cleared his throat, attempting to start the ceremony. But Adrien could only stare and stare. If she touched Muse right now, she was certain her fingers would slip right through―as if Muse were a ghost, or a hallucination.

     "We come here today . . ." intoned the priest. The crowd had hushed entirely. Even the music had disappeared. 

      Adrien's pounding heart was loud enough to drown out everything, though. "You look perfect," she said, so quietly Muse probably had to read her lips to understand.

      Muse blinked, tilting her head in that soft, familiar way.

      God, Adrien wanted to grab her and kiss her. Fuck the Bible passages and the vows. She needed Muse now―all of her. She didn't care the entire crowd was watching. She didn't care about anything else in the world.

      "You look perfect, too," Muse breathed.

      The sun nearly kissed the horizon, orange-red now. Muse looked like she were on fire, her white dress glowing. Her expression looked so serene, her eyebrows slightly raised, eyes wide and bright. Was it all for show? A convincing act for the contract?

      It was written in their vows that they loved each other―vows that Agnes had written for them―but Adrien wanted to say it for real. She bit down on her tongue and tasted blood. She couldn't keep thinking like this. She knew Muse didn't feel the same way.

      "Do you take this woman, Muse, to be your wife, to live together in holy matrimony, to love her, to honor her, to comfort her, and to keep her in sickness and in health, forsaking all others, for as long as you both shall live?"

      There was no pause. "I do," Muse told the priest, without breaking eye contact from Adrien.

      "Do you take this woman, Adrien, to be your wife, to live together in holy matrimony, to love her, to honor her, to comfort her, and to keep her in sickness and in health, forsaking all others, for as long as you both shall live?"

      "I do," said Adrien, still looking at Muse.

      There may as well have been nobody else in the world.

      In the distance, the clapping of the crowd rose up, and the music began playing anew. Behind Muse, Phoebe and Agnes grinned at each other, both radiating motherly smiles. But if Adrien looked back, she knew Ezra would have his eyes narrowed on her. 

      None of that mattered. Nothing mattered more than Muse.

     Adrien took Muse's face gently, so gently, in both her hands. Muse's eyes burned gold. The sun had set at last.

     "Hi, stranger," Muse whispered in the space between their lips.

     "Hello, wife," Adrien said, and kissed her.

      When their lips touched, Adrien nearly sighed. They kissed so softly. The first whisper of snowfall in winter,  the fresh blossom of flowers in spring. Then the kiss deepened. Adrien tasted vanilla, and a little honey. Her hands traveled down Muse's face, towards her neck, her arms―

     Ezra coughed, "Get a room."

     Adrien pulled away slowly, breathlessly. Muse didn't let go of her. Her hand remained on Adrien's waist, her fingertips grazing the belt buckle.

     There was still the reception after this, and dinner. So many hours until they could finally be alone. Adrien didn't know if she was relieved, or dreading the moment when they would return to their wedding suite. She didn't know what she would say.

     Why were you late?  she wanted to ask. 

     But did she have any right, knowing she'd lied about the wedding? Would Muse's answer only hurt her?

     It was better still, she thought, to have Muse now, knowing their time was ticking, even knowing there was a deadline, than not at all. She wasn't ready to say goodbye. She wasn't ready for Muse to disappear from her life forever.

     "You're my wife," Muse murmured, almost as if she couldn't believe it.

     "And you're mine," Adrien said.

***

Blame my gf for this update that's a day late.

From the moon and back,
Sarai