ten_of_swords | (no subject)

(no subject)

They'd been out on the strip most of the evening.

Dinner (so much food!), dancing, walking and talking, even a show at the MGM Grand.

Now, with his hand resting on her lower back, Ruin escorts Mary Anne into the lobby of Caesar's Palace. The casino was in full swing as midnight approached, and he kisses her shoulder.

"Ready to test our luck, Legs?" he asks, breath hot against her skin.

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"Nah. If we were t' use m' real last name, it would be 'Ciaran, son of Ardal'. Somehow doubt it'd work," he slurs quietly, looking up at her.

Then the limo slows down, stops, and the driver (whose name is actually Carl, not James) tells them they've arrived at the 24-hour wedding chapel.

Ruin grins at Mary Anne.

"Let's get married, Legs."

She bends down to kiss him.

Last real kiss as a single woman, better make it count. She does.

Eventually, she breaks the kiss, cheeks flushed and eyes bright.

"Yeah. Let's go."

Out the step, stumbling a little, but laughing.

Nervous in their drunkenness.

The door looms, but Ruin holds her hand tightly, their rings held in his other hand, and walks with determination.

"Love ya, Legs," he breathes just before they reach the chapel.

She draws up short before the doors, wrapping her arms around his neck and hugging him tightly. Yes, she kissed him but this needs to be done too--this closeness, this closure. She needs just a moment to hold on.

"I love you, Ciaran," she murmurs against his neck.

"Whatever's after this, I love you."

And then it's through the doors, where the pastor is having a coffee break but stands up when the couple enters. He smiles at them both.

"I believe you two are here for a wedding."

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