Page 109 of Inked Desires
The doors open with a whisper of ancient wood.
Andrew appears in the frame, bathed in daylight, and my heart skips a beat.
He walks slowly, and every step he takes toward me steals a bit more air from my lungs. I struggle to breathe, as if my own body refuses to accept what’s happening.
He is…
Damn.
He is stunning.
His black suit is perfectly tailored, hugging his slender but tall frame. The fitted vest highlights the curve of his shoulders, and his bow tie — which he must’ve cursed a dozen times this morning — is tied flawlessly. But it’s not that which takes my breath away.
It’s him.
His hair slightly unruly despite his efforts, framing his face with that natural nonchalance that fascinates me. His intense blue eyes fixed straight ahead, as if I’m the only one at the end of this aisle. He walks with a silent grace, almost unreal, as if floating between two worlds.
Everything around me fades.
The benches, the guests, the décor, even the music becomes a distant murmur.
There is only him.
Andrew.
My Andrew.
Then, suddenly, he glances away slightly.
I see him turn his head, his lips barely parted in a silent breath, as if struggling to believe what he’s seeing.
His family.
His parents are there, seated front row. And though I can’t see their faces from here, I sense the moment emotion hits them. His father bows his head slightly, his mother discreetly brings a hand to her face.
They’re crying.
I notice the tension in Andrew’s jaw, the slight twitch of his fingers. He who’s always tried to hide what he feels, who prefers to deflect with a sharp remark or sarcastic laugh… here, he hides nothing.
He lets us see what this means to him.
He lets us see that, somehow, I managed to bring them together.
His eyes finally return to me.
And he walks forward.
Time feels like it slows, every step an eternity suspended between us.
Then, finally, he reaches me.
He stands there, just in front of me, so close I could reach out and touch his face. But I don’t dare. Not yet.
His gaze plunges into mine, and I’m drawn in.
I don’t know how long we stand like that, staring, letting the other read everything we never could say out loud. There’s relief in his eyes, tenderness, but also that deep burn, that intensity that makes me feel alive.
He’s beautiful.
