Arabella grinned, “You know Mr. Odenberg breaking traditions usually mean bringing bad luck, do you wanna risk it?”
Did he ever. His lips curled into a sardonic smirk, though there seemed to be a hint of sadness in there too. “I’m pretty sure we’ve already had enough bad luck to last a lifetime,” he shrugged nonchalantly, even though she couldn’t see him. “I’m willing to risk it. Question is, are you?”
A couple of hours. A couple mroe hours and she was going to be Arabella Odenberg or Buchanan-Odenberg, she didn’t quite have that figured out but she did know she wasn’t going to just be the Princess of Scotland, she was also going to be Arabella, Princess of Switzerland, and the future queen. Oh god, Queen. She was never trained to be queen, heck Ari is not queen material everyone who knows her would probably say the same but she was willing because it was Elliot, and the difference between a Queen and A Princess is just the title right? Right? She sighed and tossed about in her bed chamber. Being the night before the wedding tradition took a toll, which meant separate beds till tomorrow when they were officially married and intertwined their vows, not that they haven’t already. They were already centuries in tradition, since for them they were already married.
Arabella sighed in defeat, she opened her eyes to stare at the ceiling, being away from her groom really was a struggle who knew. She knew, they haven’t been apart in forever. A knock on the door startled her to sit up, but then she heard his voice and let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding. She got out of bed and half ran towards the door but stopped before she reached the doorknob. ”I hope “It’s me” Is a way of you saying ‘hello this is a voicemail and i’m not exactly at the opening of this door because i’m not allowed to be’ thing” Ari whispered teasingly.
A small chuckle erupted from within him. Truth was that he was a nervous wreck. Not because he was about to marry her, but because of the wedding in general. The whole concept of inviting hundreds of people to watch you profess your love to the person you would vow to spend the rest of your life with was incredibly daunting. It felt intrusive, somehow. Impersonal. Unfortunately, there was no choice. The perks of being the future king of Switzerland. He rested his head against the door, a soft groan escaping his lips. “Fuck tradition. I need to see you.”
Traditionally, they were supposed to sleep in separate rooms on the night before the wedding. Elliot, however, was no prince charming and not one to follow traditions. It took him less than a minute in bed to realize it was physically impossible to spend tonight of all nights away from the woman he loved, and before he knew it, he was out the door and down the hall, standing in front of her suite with nothing but his pajama bottoms hanging loosely from his hips. He knocked gently after a moment’s hesitation. “It’s me.”
If I could turn the page
I would break away…
I’m bringing back old t e a r s
Pour me something stronger
Pour me something d a r k
Pour it up so high
'Til I can't feel my h e a r t
*Rubbing her toes against his legs she slowly opened her eyes and was greeted with his* It was totally worth the wait then? *she teasingly whispered, her hand reaching out to trace his jawline*
[ The warmth in her eyes made him wonder if he was still dreaming. His eyes closed for a moment; the smile growing at her words and touch. ] Are you kidding me? If I had known what I was missing, I would’ve kidnapped you and locked you in here a long time ago. And thrown away the key, just to make sure you didn’t go anywhere.