“Not bad…”

Hansol was looking at himself in the full body mirror the staff had conveniently placed in his room; he smiled as he adjusted the tie and patted his suit, soothing the faint creases in some areas he had acquired from moving too much. It hugged his figure well, emphasized his broad shoulders and chest; it was especially tailored for him after all. It was white, clean, and it befitted the occasion just right. Weddings were supposed to be special, memorable and perfect; he had to dress nicely once in a while.

“Hansol!” a familiar voice echoed through the room and bounced off the walls. He didn’t bothered to turn around, Hansol could recognize that voice from a mile away.

“Hey Johnny,” Hansol greeted the other through his own reflection from the mirror. Johnny was silent for a while after he came in and shut the door behind him. Hansol let him be, focused his attention on fixing his tie to make it look flawless even though it already was. Johnny knew that habit very well, considering they’ve been friends for so long; Hansol was nervous and was doing a crappy job at hiding it.

As Hansol turned marginally, he caught Johnny’s eyes; they were probing, as if they were reading his soul and unrevealing his innermost and darkest secrets. “You look nervous. Are you feeling alright?”

“I’m fine,” he lied in between his teeth. “Yuta should be the one who’s nervous, not me. He won’t even let me visit him, can you believe him?” Hansol was trying his absolute hardest to look and sound calm, unaffected and somewhat passive, but Johnny knew better. Hansol’s eyes were sad, dejected, but Johnny hadn’t said anything.

Johnny was hesitant at first, opening his mouth and closing it again, but before he had the chance to say something, “Places everyone,” the wedding coordinator called, knocking on the door to the room that they were in and interrupted them, asking for Hansol to head onto the garden outside since the ceremony was about to start and he was badly needed.

“Good luck man,” Johnny said and gave him an encouraging pat on the shoulder before he left to find his boyfriend, Ten, so that they could search for their seats in the crowd of people that were present to witness the sacred union. “I’ll see you later.”

____________________________

Yuta had always wanted a garden wedding, he had been dreaming about it since they were little kids, where they would talk about the most nonsense things at 3 o’clock in the morning. He wanted the occasion to be just in time for spring where flowers would bloom beautifully as he walked down the aisle. Albeit the ceremony wouldn’t be held at Japan, Yuta wanted to feel like he was back home. “It would be beautiful,” Yuta said. But Hansol thought it was childish and simply cliché; he wanted a summer wedding after all, a huge contrast to what Yuta wanted. A simple yet memorable wedding at the beach, where they will be barefooted and the sand will tickle their feet. It would be magical, Hansol believed.

But since Yuta was a spoiled brat and liked it best when everything went his way, Hansol decided to forego with his earlier plan and agreed on the garden wedding instead, much to Yuta’s amusement and satisfaction. It was Hansol who made the arrangements for the venue—Yuta was bad at planning things— and had entrusted Hansol with the task. Although it was hard, he was happy to see Yuta getting one of his wishes coming true, even if he was only capable of fulfilling the smallest one.

It moments time, the ceremony officially started. And just like they had rehearsed, everything came to sequence; the sponsors marching down, the bearers, and Hansol was standing at the end of the small aisle, near the pastor, waiting for Yuta to arrive. It was dreadful, standing there, waiting; it was only for a few minutes but Hansol thought it was forever. He could not wait for Yuta to arrive so they could get it done and over it.

Then the music suddenly changed, everyone turned their heads. Yuta came to view and stood at the middle, looked beautiful just by standing there. He was smiling widely. Gone was his usual smirk and the angry lines on his forehead, his smile was honest and pure; he looked even younger than he really was. He looked stunning with his black suit that Hansol helped pick out for him in their many early morning video calls when Yuta went to the tailor shop by himself since Hansol was out of the country because of his job. It complemented Hansol’s white one, like how they complemented each other in some odd way. It hugged his figure like a glove and he looked (slightly) taller too. His hair was slicked back with some strands loosened to gently frame his angular face and sharp jawline. Yuta looked gorgeous— when did he look ugly anyway? It was almost unfair in Hansol’s opinion, to be as utterly breath-taking as Yuta was.

The occasion wasn’t meant to be sentimental; Yuta hated it most when Hansol cried out of nowhere and out of context. But he couldn’t help it. Watching Yuta made Hansol unable to bear the sudden surge of emotions that clouded his senses, the feeling was overwhelming, it was suffocating— the best kind.

Hansol couldn’t take his eyes off of Yuta when the latter slowly walked down the pathway, red roses scattered on the ground for him to walk on, and a bouquet of lilies in his hands. All he could do was stare at him at awe, stare at that familiar face of the only person he had ever loved so dearly; his first love. Their life together flashed before Hansol’s very eyes; how they grew up together, how they suffered a lot all throughout high school and college, how they fell in love; the childish arguments, the sleep overs, the dinner dates, the petty fights, and everything that had happened in between. Though it seemed like it was a blur and in a fast pace, every single memory was clear in Hansol’s head and heart, he could still remember them perfectly and he treasured each one.

Their story was just as cliché and as cheesy as the rest; they started out as childhood friends, to best friends, and eventually to become something more as the years pass by. Hansol had been through hell and back with his life— his parents’ sudden death, being left alone, being abused by his relatives who took him in, leaving home, and then standing on his own two feet to