danielle r. rookwood (curador) wrote in valesco,
@ 2011-09-01 22:12:00

Entry tags:

danielle rookwood, donovan rookwood, elizabeth fortescue, gabriel corner, group, juliet nott, rachel corner, rhys nott, rian kettleburn, rose knightley, thomas mccormack

Rookwood Wedding! Open to Guests!
Everything had gone off without a hitch.

Danielle wanted to cry for more than their vows, she was just so elated that the ceremony hadn't been interrupted by someone angry at the both of them, anyone who found it wrong for them to be together. It felt like all these months of turmoil and tears had been pointing towards this day, and Danielle was going to love every second of this day.

Her hands rested behind her back as she listened to her father's story about his wedding day. Danielle rocked on her heels with a smile on her face, so happy that she was going to have stories to share with her family, their future children, and anyone else who was willing to listen. The party was small, just their closest friends and family (Rian had come! He'd come!), and it was just what Danielle had always wanted. The wedding was supposed to be about her and Donovan, it had always been Donovan, and to have her fantasy come true was astounding.

And it wasn't even the felix felicis they had given all of their guests as favors, talking.

She was about to comment on how her father seemed to be getting misty eyed when a hand rested on her waist. Danielle turned and smiled brightly at her husband, and excused herself from her family to pay some attention to him.

"Have I told you how handsome you look today?"

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malengled
2011-09-05 05:24 am UTC (link)

Rachel bit back a gasp as heard the demand, more impassioned than she could remember him being. When he'd greeted her from Ibiza, it was calculated coolness and tepid relief. When it was Benjamin, it was the absolute devotion to her needs. It was not, had never appeared to her to be, a so-called selfish thing from Gabriel, that he would need to hear these words as much as she needed to never say them; that she could give them to him, and he would derive happiness from it. "I—"

There was that hot sear of panic low in her belly, impossible to ignore. As much as part of Rachel wished to blame him, to cry out that Gabriel had done something to bewitch and ensnare her, he hadn't. Her body, heaven knew, had gone willingly. Her mind, with time, had been won. But it was her heart, that curious and soulful entity, which remained firmly out of grasp. It was a thing bruised more times than she cared to remember, acting purely out of self-defense. Without reason, without rhyme, having stitched itself back together in a senseless pattern with each passing wound. Yet even that most stubborn organ sighed and inched and fell into love when she'd least expected it, hadn't been looking for it.

It was cowardly, undeniably so, but easier to close her eyes and press her face to the crook of his neck, to not see him as she began to lay herself bare as she vowed she never would when he'd taken her to wife.

"I love you," she murmured against his shoulder.

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