Drabble: Married
Title: Married
Summary: A long forgotten order of wedding invitations provokes some reflection on their current situation.
Rating: Suitable for all.
Warnings: None
Word count: About 500 Completed: Yes
Married
"What's in the box?"
She looks up at him from her spot crossed legged on the floor. "You scared me," she mutters, stuffing some paper into the open box in front of her.
"Sorry," he replies, pulling off his cloak and discarding it on the sofa. "Seriously, what you got there?"
"Oh nothing," she tells him, and he raises an eyebrow. "Our wedding invitations," she admits sheepishly. "I had to pick them up they must have taken ages to make."
"Not as long as it took to pick the calligraphy," James mumbles, remembering that day spent sat in the same space endless piles of parchment of all different type thrown around them. His response is met with an invitation lamely thrown in his direction. With a light flick of his wand the paper rises and sails into his hand. He considers it for a moment. "They're nice," he agrees coming to sit on the floor beside his wife. "I'd forgotten we'd ordered some," he admits. It seems everything was going by them these days; even their own wedding had barely been a disruption in their lives.
"I don't know what to do with them. I mean it was stupid to open the box really but it seemed such a shame to just throw them away."
"Sod it, send them out anyway, a bit of proof you actually agreed to do it."
She smiles at that as she takes another invitation out the box.
"My mother would have had my head," he tells her, turning the invitation over in his hand, "Not even sending out invitations."
"You always were impatient," she teases, linking her hand with his, her finger tracing the curve of his wedding ring.
"Still," he continues. "We didn't have a cake, what kind of wedding doesn't have a cake."
She nods. "We probably should have had a cake," she pauses and leans her head on his shoulder letting out a small sigh. "Married," she mutters.
There so much he needs to say to her. That he's sorry they never had a proper wedding or that all they've done since is work for the Order but he can't find the words, so he leans his head atop hers. "Yeah," he sighs.
"It was a good day," she tells him forcefully.
"The best day," he agrees, giving her hand a squeeze. "But still, we should have had a cake."
She says nothing to this just squeezes his hand tighter. Her voice is no louder than a whisper. "I'm so sorry."
"You're sorry." he repeats. "You have nothing to be sorry about. I don't want anyone else. I'm still waiting for you to change your mind," he admits.
"Waiting," she teases, leaning over to put the invitations back in their box. He rolls his eyes and she smiles at him. "I'll get rid of them. I didn't need an invitation to make it special."
"We'll keep one," James tells her, holding up the invitation in his hand. "For Mum." Perhaps it's stupid but the look she gives him tells him that she understands.
Suddenly she stands up sharply giving him a quick kiss as she tucks the box under one arm. "Call the boys," she tells him over her shoulder, as she makes her way into their small kitchen. "I'm baking that cake."
Summary: A long forgotten order of wedding invitations provokes some reflection on their current situation.
Rating: Suitable for all.
Warnings: None
Word count: About 500 Completed: Yes
Married
"What's in the box?"
She looks up at him from her spot crossed legged on the floor. "You scared me," she mutters, stuffing some paper into the open box in front of her.
"Sorry," he replies, pulling off his cloak and discarding it on the sofa. "Seriously, what you got there?"
"Oh nothing," she tells him, and he raises an eyebrow. "Our wedding invitations," she admits sheepishly. "I had to pick them up they must have taken ages to make."
"Not as long as it took to pick the calligraphy," James mumbles, remembering that day spent sat in the same space endless piles of parchment of all different type thrown around them. His response is met with an invitation lamely thrown in his direction. With a light flick of his wand the paper rises and sails into his hand. He considers it for a moment. "They're nice," he agrees coming to sit on the floor beside his wife. "I'd forgotten we'd ordered some," he admits. It seems everything was going by them these days; even their own wedding had barely been a disruption in their lives.
"I don't know what to do with them. I mean it was stupid to open the box really but it seemed such a shame to just throw them away."
"Sod it, send them out anyway, a bit of proof you actually agreed to do it."
She smiles at that as she takes another invitation out the box.
"My mother would have had my head," he tells her, turning the invitation over in his hand, "Not even sending out invitations."
"You always were impatient," she teases, linking her hand with his, her finger tracing the curve of his wedding ring.
"Still," he continues. "We didn't have a cake, what kind of wedding doesn't have a cake."
She nods. "We probably should have had a cake," she pauses and leans her head on his shoulder letting out a small sigh. "Married," she mutters.
There so much he needs to say to her. That he's sorry they never had a proper wedding or that all they've done since is work for the Order but he can't find the words, so he leans his head atop hers. "Yeah," he sighs.
"It was a good day," she tells him forcefully.
"The best day," he agrees, giving her hand a squeeze. "But still, we should have had a cake."
She says nothing to this just squeezes his hand tighter. Her voice is no louder than a whisper. "I'm so sorry."
"You're sorry." he repeats. "You have nothing to be sorry about. I don't want anyone else. I'm still waiting for you to change your mind," he admits.
"Waiting," she teases, leaning over to put the invitations back in their box. He rolls his eyes and she smiles at him. "I'll get rid of them. I didn't need an invitation to make it special."
"We'll keep one," James tells her, holding up the invitation in his hand. "For Mum." Perhaps it's stupid but the look she gives him tells him that she understands.
Suddenly she stands up sharply giving him a quick kiss as she tucks the box under one arm. "Call the boys," she tells him over her shoulder, as she makes her way into their small kitchen. "I'm baking that cake."