When the flowers started blooming and spring started to roll in, there came a wedding.

Tents were set up in a random fashion and there were plates of hors d’ouvres being passed around by waiters in fine tuxes. All around, the clinking of champagne flutes mixed with the joyous chatter of the guests could be heard. Tables and chairs were thrown haphazardly around the grass, with centrepieces made of lilies and baby’s breath amidst plates of the dinner that was served. The fairy lights tangled on metal bars served as little starts above for an otherwise cloudy sky, while the couple danced to a song played by the live band on the stage.

In the midst of all of this, a group of friends sat on the sidelines, taking advantage of the free food and alcohol.

“I can’t believe I wore a suit for this.”

“Oh, come on. Cheer up Kris. At least there’s free booze.”

“This champagne isn’t even good enough. Why does this have to be outdoors? Mosquitos are starting to eat me.”

“Guys, this is a wedding. Can’t you at least be happy for our friends?” Ailee hissed at Sehun and Kris, both with a sullen expression on their faces. They say it’s because they were forced to wear formal attires or the ceremony, when they could’ve worn more comfortable clothing. (For all she knows, it’s probably because they’re bored and the now-married couple will kill them if they decide to crash this reception.)

Just then, Eric ambled towards them with a plate of cake and icing on his lips. “Hey, have you tasted this red velvet? It’s beyond!”

Jackson scoffed as he took a sip of his champagne. “We’re forgetting the most important thing here, why is this wedding even happening?”

“I know right. They’ve been together for less than a month.” Ailee agreed, looking at him from beside Eric.

“I bet that this marriage won’t last a year.”

Sehun smirked at Kris’ remark. “More like a month.”

Ailee reprimanded them both again. “Hey, they’re in love and that’s all that matters.” She took a gulp of her champagne before promptly leaning into Sehun’s ear. “But just for the record, I’m betting three years.”

“I say after the honeymoon.” Contributed Eric, in between a mouthful of the moist wedding cake. Jackson grunts, “They’re gonna get divorced before these two get married.” Pointing at the other couple beside him.

“Huh?”

Henry and Amber both muttered, looking up from the plate of steak and mashed potatoes that they were fighting over. Amber took the chance to steal a piece of the steak.

“We were talking about Key and Jonghyun.” Kris answered, his head jerking towards the couple on the dance floor. “How this one month relationship is meant to blow up in their faces.”

“We have a year for Kris, a month for Sehun, three years for Ailee, after the honeymoon for Eric, and before your wedding for me. By the way, what’s the timeline for that?”

They reacted the only way Henry and Amber could. He choked on the water that he was sipping, sputtering incoherent words in between coughing. She responds by laughing beside him, patting his back while doing so. “Yeah, right. Like this guy have enough balls to ask me to marry him.” To which Henry replies with a “Hey!”

Before the gang could bombard them again with questions, Key and Jonghyun breaks out from their dance and ran towards the table. Breathless and exhilarated, the afterglow of the celebrations gleamed in their faces.

(Henry stared at them and wondered if that’s what getting married could do to him too, but his mind goes haywire at the word.)

The couple pulled the group to dance to the particularly jumpy song that was playing. Before they could stand up though (and when Jonghyun was surely out of earshot), Key gave them the heart-stopping glare that he was famous for.

“If I ever find out that you guys are betting on the length of this marriage I will kill all of you. You know I will.”

That silenced all of them. “I swear that guy has some kind of sixth sense.” Sehun muttered with a shiver.

As the night went on, song after song after song, they danced to the beat of the live band’s music. Jumping with arms raised, head bobbing up and down, sweat dripping and voices harsh from shouts over the blaring chords. They held hands, arms slung over each other’s shoulders, laughing as they basked in the warmth that only true friendship could give.

A little bit tipsy, a little bit crazy, a little bit happy.

“I love you all!” Eric shouts, and none of them scoff or because all of them were thinking the same thing: it was true.

“Oh...” The singer croons into the microphone. “What a good time to be young and wild and free...”

When the clock was nearing midnight, the band decided to play a slow song to cap it all off. Jazzy undertones filled the air, the people coming in pairs to the dance floor. In an automatic gesture, Henry pulled Amber closer and wrapped his arms around her waist. Chest to chest and nose to nose, he held her hand as they swayed to their own version of a slow dance.

“So, marriage, huh?” he whispered to her ear. “Did you mean what you said though?”

“About you not having enough balls? Yeah, totally.” He creates a bit of distance between them, eyebrows scrunched up and mouth agape. Amber laughs at his reaction, and rests her chin on his shoulder. “I’m too cool to have your last name.” She chides.

He retorts with a smirk though, instead of an incoherent stuttering as she would have expected. “Hmm. Do you want me to remind you of those white picket fences?”

“You wouldn’t”

He chuckles into her hair, reliving a time when they were in kindergarten and Mrs. Johnson asked them to draw where they see themselves 20 years from now. Amber drew a family in front of a big house with a white picket fence (this was oddly specific), which burned into Henry’s toddler brain.

Years later, when they were all grown up, Henry always teased Amber of this information, to which she responds with a furious blush and a “Mrs. Johnson was cruel, who asks a four year old that? They don’t even know what to have for dinner!”

Now, there was still a blush at the mention of the now-dubbed ‘White picket fence incident’. But some things have changed, among others, obviously. Instead of the usual kick on the shin that Henry would receive, Amber gave him a looks that could rival the twinkling fairy lights above them.

He shrugs, pulling her even closer, inhaling the scent of her shampoo emanating from her cropped tresses. “But you know; we’ll get there when we get there.

She inches closer to his chest (if that was even possible) with a smile on her face. “Yeah. But just so you know,” then tiptoes to place a kiss on his cheek.

“There is no one in this whole wide world.”

On the corner of his mouth.

“I’d rather fulfil that dream with but you.”

And lastly on the lips, her hands snaking to his nape, fingers curling and messing up his gelled hair. He melts into it, his own hands gripping her waist like a lifeline. The world spins and the lights twinkle and the band enters a bridge with soft baritones and resonating piano chords; but the two of them stayed like that, melding into the intimacy that they shared and soaking up each other’s warmth.

Amber breaks it momentarily, looking at him, breathless. “But you’re right. We’ll get there when we get there.”

To Henry, that’s as good as a promise.

--

a/n:

Alternate title: how to write a ty ending by yours truly /bangsheadonwindow/

It's done yaaaay. thank you for everyone who made time to read, comment and upvote this fic. my heart goes to all of you.

Also, can you guys give me henber fanfic recommendations? For my sanity? Yes? Please? ??