some fairytale bliss (Cormac)

Flipping through yet another article of the "simplistic beauty" of understated, minimalistic center pieces, Romilda let out a dramatic sigh. Pushing herself back into her seat, she took a sip of her coffee as her eyebrows furrowed. This was the second magazine that seemed to think every bride needed to have a rustic and simplistic wedding. Whatever happened to style and ballgowns? Who traded in wine glasses for mason jars? Why have a dress that flows easily in the wind when clearly having a dress where the skirt takes up the space of two people is so clearly the better option? These were all the questions that ran through the young witch's mind as she tried to plan the day that all girls who consider themselves a princess--or a queen, in this case--wait their entire lives for.

Just as she was ready to throw the magazine on the floor, a bit of sunlight broke through the London clouds and the diamond on her finger caught the light and sparkled brilliantly. A small smile caught her, as she stared at the piece of jewelry that was so clearly fit for her. She loved to show it off, she did so at every moment possible. Even when ordered her coffee--one squirt of unsweetened caramel, no cream--she made sure the barista knew she was watching her figure for big day, not so subtly displaying the ring. The barista didn't seem to care that much. A small smile, but no congratulations or advice. Probably just jealous, Romilda assumed.

Placing the bitter coffee down, half regretting not putting anything sweet into it, Romi scanned the crowd of people walking by looking for her person. She refused to let Cormac sit idly by as Romilda planned their wedding, although he had seemed a little annoyed when she decided two weeks ago that they were getting married in New Years Eve. This New Years Eve, she stressed to him. It was the most glamorous of days and didn't she deserve to be wed on the most glamorous of days? And she certainly wasn't waiting a whole extra year for the next New Years.

Unfortunately, all Cormac had added to the planning so farwas, "Well, then we need to have champagne!"

"Obviously," Romilda had replied to him with an eye roll. Who would have a wedding without champagne? Casting her eyes down to the stack of six thick wedding magazines, both wizarding and muggle, she realized that maybe the people who wanted jam jars to serve drinks would probably think a bottom shelf vodka and juice would suffice.

Just as she was about to open a new magazine, she heard the door of the coffee shop open. Her brown eyes snapped up to her fiancé--oh what a wonderful word--walk through the door. Standing up and striding over to him, she kissed him quickly on the check, with a flourish of her left hand coming to touch his face so everyone would know this man was her future husband. Before even allowing him to get much past the door or even order a drink, Romilda began with the thoughts that had been occupying her mind since yesterday.

"Okay, so I was thinking if I have a dusty pink as part of my color scheme, we should have pink champagne. Or we could off set it with a gold one. But, if we go full silver and sparkle, we should probably find a clear champagne--is that a thing? If it is, then maybe edible silver glitter in the bottom of the glasses so that it swirls in the drink and matches the theme. Thoughts?"

Cormac was feeling really good, but also really stressed. He was as excited for a wedding as any man could be, and perhaps a little more excited. A chance to have a giant party all about him and the love of his life was basically the best idea ever. Cormac was a drama queen in many ways and he loved to be the center of attention. The only person he didn't mind sharing the spotlight with was Romilda. While he had some ideas for his wedding in his mind, he was basically prepared to compromise on almost all of them depending on what Romilda wanted. He wanted a nice venue. He wanted a nice dinner. He wanted a live band and he wanted her to wear white. Beyond those things, he didn't care much about the color schemes—though he though warmer tones looked better against his golden skin—and he didn't much care what her dress looked like as long as Romilda looked amazing in it.

So, naturally, he'd allowed her to do most of the planning and had all but given her a blank check for it all. He was a successful model now, under contract with several different fashion lines and doing plenty of editorial work. He never looked back to his desk job anymore. He was meant for so much more than Ministry work—even though he had a 'no-rehire' status on his record due to his former department of employment. He was used to being lionized, to being spotted wherever he went, now, and of course he loved it. He had signed two separate autographs on his way to the coffee shop where he was supposed to meet his fiancee (one for a woman who asked and another for her friend who had no idea who Cormac was). He was feeling great.

He barely had time to walk into the shop when Romilda came up to him at the door. She kissed him, and he melted into it. It didn't take much, but Cormac really was head over heels in love. He would do anything for this beautiful woman, and unfortunately she knew it. He took her hand in his hand and gave it a little squeeze, but soon the moment passed and she was quickly spilling out her thoughts.

Pink champagne? That was a little girly, wasn't it? Of course, it would match the dusty pink color scheme. Was that what she was going for? Pink? He'd look charming in a pink tie, he thought. That would play off him well. Red suited him better, of course, but he was comfortable enough with his own sexuality to war pink. After all, he was a model. He had worn much worse.

“I think that whatever you like is fine.” He said noncommittally. “I like silver and gold for New Years. Silver and Gold and Pink could bee really nice together.”