#im meant for cold meant to bundle up under warm blankies

[microwave-core]

Cynthia is absolutely the type to cry at her own wedding. Normally calm and collected, she spends the hours leading up to the event smoothing over her crisp, white suit again and again, worrying about every small detail, practically burning her steps into the ground as she paces about.

Standing at the arch, her fiddling continues, although to a lesser extent, vowing to keep her nervousness at bay, but when she sees you? It's over for her. You're just so beautiful, so gorgeous, positively radiant. Tears are falling from her eyes before she knows it.

She wipes them away (careful not to disturb her aptly applied makeup) before you reach her, delicately taking both your hands in hers, staring so deeply and lovingly into your eyes. She can't help but thank her lucky stars that you'll be by her side for the rest of her life, nor can she stop from imaging how she's going to rail you into next week as soon as she whisks you away to your hotel room at the end of the night.