The Wedding
Lily’s Pov
She and Mary arrive at Lily’s parent’s house in Liverpool around ten the night before the wedding, and it’s already chaos.
For the sake of tradition, Petunia is sleeping at the house too, because she’s not allowed to see her husband-to-be before she walks down the aisle, so naturally – and to piss her off, Lily would wager – Petunia has invited all of her bridesmaids to come too. Of course, Lily isn’t a bridesmaid, despite being the bride’s sister, so it’s not long until they’re all forced to retire onto the living room with Lily’s parents as the girls shriek and giggle all too loudly upstairs.
Now, Lily’s parents love Mary: they always have, from the first moment Lily talked to them about the new friend she made in school, the only other scholarship kid in the school, who happens to be her roommate. She remembers, in fourth grade, how Mary and Marlene had stayed at her house for Christmas, because they refused to get separated. Lily’s mum had said that they would probably be friends for a very, very long time. And now, they have to tell her that they’re allegedly dating.
She had debated with herself on whether she should tell her parents that it’s fake, but she realised all too quickly that it was a bad idea: Katherine Evans cannot keep a secret to safe her life. She should tell the whole reception that they aren’t really dating, and the whole plan would just go to waste. No, Lily had to include her parents on this. Even if she didn’t really want to.
“Don’t make this face, honey, it’s your sister.” Lily’s mum tells her from the sofa in front of her and Mary, where Lily’s dad is also sitting, looking at the top of the stairs with a snarl on his face.
“She’s acting like a thirteen-year-old.” She rolls her eyes, “Okay, fine, she hates me, but she can just ignore me. Not mandate my room for her slumber party.”
“She hardly mandated your room.” Katherine smiles at her. She had always been very adverse to hers and Petunia’s pat. It seems their bruised relationship was not what she wanted for her daughters, and instead of letting things be, she’s always been trying to make them make amends. Well, she’s been trying to make Lily like her, as if she was the one who’s always picking a fight. Not a word about it has ever been uttered to Petunia, though, of course.
“She put a sign that said ‘no gingers allowed.’” Lily deadpans, and hears Mary chuckle next to her. When Lily turns to her with a raised brow, she shrugs.
“‘No gingers allowed’” she repeats, “It’s a bit funny.”
Lily rolls her eyes again, but playfully this time, “Maybe a little bit.” She agrees, “But not from her.”
Desperate to talk about anything else, and with her husband not helping in the slightest, Katherine turns back to the girls, “What is going on with you two then? Anything you haven’t told me over the phone?” she asks, and Lily thinks that this is the moment. She looks at Mary, who is looking at her in apprehension, and she nods.
They’re doing this; too late to back out. “Well, actually, we have news.” Lily smiles tightly and does what she and Mary agreed on doing beforehand. She takes Mary’s hand, which comes willingly, and looks at her parents, who are staring at their joined hands, even Lily’s dad whose stare was strained on the top of the stairs for ages now.
“Are you…?” Katherine asks, and Lily nods.
“We’re a couple.” She smiles at her parents, “We, uh, we realised recently that we both considered the other as more than friends, so, yeah.” She explains, “We’ve been going out for a few months now.” She adds, because she doesn’t want her parents or Petunia to think it’s something that happened just to piss her off for the wedding. Even if it actually is, but they don’t have to know that.
“Oh.” Lily’s mum nods, “That’s great. I’ve always considered you my third daughter, Mary, so this works out great.” She smiles at them sweetly.
“Always better than that bloody Vernon.” Bruce Evans grumbles, and that’s that. No further reaction. Whether it be because it’s the eve of her sister’s wedding, or because she’s going out with a woman, that Lily doesn’t know, but she’s glad.
At least if she goes out with a woman for real one day, it won’t come out as such a shocker.
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When she and Mary wake up in Lily’s bedroom the next morning, after Petunia finally allowed them to go upstairs around midnight, they’re intertwined in a way best friends usually aren’t. Their legs are interlinked in a fashion that has them wondering which limb belongs to who, and Lily wakes up breathing into Mary’s neck: a mixture of jasmine and that natural scent that Mary always has: something like watered roses.
She guesses that’s what happens when two grown women – if you can call Mary and her five feet of height a grown woman – have to share Lily’s childhood bed.
They dismantle their mess of limbs and go to get ready. They have to be at the venue, which is in the centre of Liverpool, by ten, and they have the bride inside the house, so the chaos remains. Once again, Petunia demands to have the entire floor to get ready, as if anyone would need that much space to put on a bloody dress, so she and Mary are forced to get ready in her parent’s bathroom downstairs. It’s small, and cramped, and Mary doesn’t complain but Lily knows that getting her hair done in the small shower must’ve been impossibly hard, but miraculously, by nine thirty, Lily, Mary and her parents are in the car.
Since they’re not part of the wedding party, they haven’t gotten any sort of dress code, so Lily is wearing a brown buttoned dress she thinks looks cute, and Mary is wearing a similar yellow dress, with checkered patterns. Lily thinks she can manage to look both adorable and hot, which is a skill to have, really. Lily knows she’s going to be proud as fuck to introduce her to her family as her girlfriend.
They arrive at the venue, which turns out to be a church, with a cross-adorned altar. Lily feels the cogs turning into her head: none of them are Christians, and unless Petunia converted to Christianity, it doesn’t make any sense for them to get married here. And Vernon isn’t a believer either: she distinctly remembers him disrespecting religion and saying that all preachers were brainwashed idiots who should go to school. Lily had thought, at that moment, that perhaps someone who hasn’t got their high school diploma shouldn’t be talking about levels of education, but well. Some people just think they know everything, don’t they?
Lily’s suspicions are confirmed as she overhears two of her aunts talking: it seems that the choice of a church was for aesthetic purposes only, and that both of them dislike and openly disrespect religion. Lily thinks that this is some sort of paradox she doesn’t want to get into.
Without surprise, the ceremony is unbelievably bland. The priest talks slower than anyone still alive, Petunia’s dress is ugly, their vows are self-written and cringe and a bridesmaid sneezes right when the priest proclaims them husband and wife. It’s probably Lily’s favourite moment.
What Lily likes, however, is the fountain punch in the actual venue for the party. She sticks close to Mary at all times, making trips back and forth from the fountain to their seats and back. They’re seated at table nine, yet another funny idea of revenge or just something to piss off Lily from Petunia: with Mary and Lily are seated one of Vernon’s aunt and her husband, who both look over a hundred years old and talk obscenely loudly about racist things, Vernon’s little cousin, who is twelve and looks like he’d rather be anywhere else, and Lily’s extended family’s cousin, who is forty five and determined to make people believe he’s the smartest one in the room.
In all, Lily feels like Vernon’s cousin. She doesn’t want to be there. Thank God for Mary.
“I think we can plan an exit if one of us knocks over the…wait, did they do a champagne tower with pilsners?” she asks with a frown, and when Lily follows her gaze, she sees it: it looks the stupidest anyone has ever seen, and behind it is a sign with ‘Here’s to our brew-mance!’ written behind it. Lily suddenly feels like coolest person in the room.
“There’s no way they actually bought that sign.” She gapes at Mary, “I thought she was 21, not 43.”
“That’s some serious millennial shit.” Mary agrees, “As I was saying; one of us knocks over the pilsner tower, that creates a distraction, and then we just run.”
“We don’t need to cause a distraction, no one would notice we’re gone anyway.” She shrugs, “There was no point in coming anyway.” She sighs, and Mary tuts at her.
“Come on, you got to see your parents!” she smiles at Lily, “I know you’ve been missing them.”
Lily smiles a little and looks over at a table further away, where her dad is engaged in a screaming match with Vernon’s father. “Yeah, that’s true.” She sighs. If she’d had it her way, she and Mary would have spent the wedding with Lily’s parents. They might be her parents, but Lily has fun with them. Mostly with her dad. That’s who she gets her mean streak from, Mary says.
To disrupt their tranquil boredom, Lily’s aunt comes to greet them. It’s Katherine’s sister, Elizabeth, and she draws Lily in a hug.
“Oh, dear, how you’ve grown!” she exclaims, “It’s been so long since we’ve seen you!”
“I know!” she smiles at her, “I’ve been quite busy lately, not really in the country and all.” She chuckles awkwardly.
“Oh yes, your mother was telling me.” She nods at Lily, “And you are?” she asks Mary, who extends a hand.
“Mary Macdonald, Lily’s girlfriend.” She smiles at Elizabeth, who takes her hand with round eyes. So it seems, Katherine was able to keep a secret, then.
“Oh, girlfriend?” she repeats, looking back and forth between them, “Well that’s new.”
Lily smiles at her, “We’ve been going out a few months, yes.”
“In Paris, I hear?” Elizabeth says, and both girls nod, “Wow, things change, eh? Good on you girls.” She smiles, then winks at Mary, “Maybe we’ll get both Evans girls married by the end of the year, aye?”
Mary chuckles politely, and Lily feels her skin redden, “Maybe, yeah. Who knows?” she says, and Elizabeth leaves them alone. They barely have time to take a breath, and realise what just happened, when the old couple seated at their table who apparently eavesdropped on the whole thing turn onto them.
“What’s this I hear then?” the man bellows, “A black queer girl? They allow people like that in now?” he grumbles, “Bonkers family, I tell you, Dotty.” He turns to his wife, who eyes them with the same amount of venom in her stare.
“Excuse me?” Lily raises her eyebrows at them, “What the hell did you just say to her right now?” she frowns at them, almost wanting to spit at them.
“Lils, don’t waste your time on them, I don’t care.” Mary tugs at her arm, but Lily stays rooted in place.
“I said she was a bloody n-” he starts and Lily cuts him off right then.
“You can’t say that, you fucking fascist!” she shouts at him, “Bloody hell, I know you’ve been alive forever, but you have to grow up, dude. It’s 2025, not 1945.”
She leaves with Mary next to her, not letting him answer her. She knows she shouldn’t have engaged with someone who’s probably senile and spewing bullshit, but the wedding as a whole is a weight on her shoulders. The smallest thing would have made her lash out, and, well some fascist dude isn’t the smallest thing.
“That was really hot, Lils. Defending my honour and all.” Mary grins next to her like an idiot, and it manages to make Lily break out a smile, “My knight in shining armour, really.”
She rolls her eyes playfully, “Don’t flatter yourself.”
“Oh but I will.” Mary grins and turns to stand closer to Lily, slotting her legs in between Lily’s legs, “I’m your girlfriend for the day, remember?”
“Yeah, I know.” Lily says, looking down at Mary. She’s unbelievably close to her now, and it’s all Lily can do not to kiss her. Then, she thinks, that she can kiss her. She’s allowed, today. And there should be at least one person watching.
Without thinking a second longer, she leans down and kisses Mary on the lips chastely, and pulls back after a second. When Mary looks at her in shock, she just shrugs to diffuse the tension in the air.
“Girlfriend for the day. Give ‘em something to talk about.”
Mary nods and stands back next to Lily. They deliberately don’t look at each other, and Lily feels that pull in her stomach, the one that tells her she really, really wants to be alone with Mary now. And to be her real girlfriend, too, but that’s just accessory. It’s not like Lily is inventing this tension around them.
Because ever since they went out the week before for the Fête de la Musique, and spent the whole evening together, drinking and laughing, so wrapped up in each other that they lost the others and ended up drinking just the two of them, sitting along the Seine, laughing uncontrollably for hours on end, Lily has felt this. This tension, this sort of atmosphere around them that makes their smiles more private, and their blushes more personal. That make their touches more intimate, and make their words take on a whole new meaning.
In the past, Lily mistook this tension for nerves. Now, she thinks she knows what it is. It’s something much scarier, and that lasts for so much longer. It’s falling in love.
Of course, because the world won’t leave them alone, or because the universe knows that they need a push, some of Lily’s cousins emerge from somewhere. They’re two girls, not older than fourteen, and they’re grinning in a way that means trouble.
“Hey, we saw you from over there.” The closest to Lily says, “And we think you two look cute.”
Lily and Mary look at each other, but the other girl talks before they can answer, “And we have this.” She explains, and she shows the hand she had hidden behind her back, to show a bright pink sign with ‘KISS CAM” written on it.
“Pet didn’t want us to bring it, but she also forbade us from wearing our matching gowns, so we decided to piss her off.” The one closest to Lily, whose name is Emma, explains. Lily, weirdly, feels a grin growing at the idea of other people in her family wanting to piss off Petunia.
“So, would you be okay with passing in our Kiss Cam?” the other, Lucy, asks.
Lily grins at them, “Absolutely. Whatever pisses off Petunia the most.”
Mary elbows her, “Why didn’t she want you bringing it?”
Emma shrugs, “She said it was clashing with the theme.” She says, and her cousin giggles.
“And then you told her the theme was probably ‘boring millennial vibe’.” Lucy accuses, making Mary and Lily laugh.
“Exactly what we were saying!” Mary exclaims.
“Oh my god, I know right? It’s like their colour scheme was sad beige.” Emma rolls her eyes in a way that makes Lily feel like she’s fourteen again.
“And inspirations are obviously from tumblr.” Lily disclaims, “No trace of Pinterest here.”
“What’s tumblr?” Lucy asks, and it makes Mary and Lily laugh again.
“We’re so old.” Lily giggles, and Mary nods.
“For real.” She says, then turns to the younger girls, “Give us the sign then, we’ll take the picture.”
Emma grins and gives it to her, “Finally found some cool people here.” She says, and it makes Lily’s ego inflate. If a fourteen year old thinks you’re cool, then you’re really cool.
Mary holds up the sign in front of them, letting the cutout heart be around their heads. When the girls confirm that they’re in the frame, Lily turns to face Mary and licks her lips.
“Hold long enough for us to take the photo, yeah?” Lucy asks from afar, and Mary nods.
“Oh, don’t you worry about that.” She grins and turns to face Lily, “Not just a peck this time, isn’t it?”
Lily doesn’t have time to answer before Lucy bellows, “Come on now!”. Quickly, she braces both hands on Mary’s cheeks and kisses her deeply. Her eyes slip shut quickly, and as agreed, Mary opens up the kiss onto something more. More than they’ve ever done, more than their trained for. Still, Lily doesn’t pull back until the girls tell her to, and it’s not like she wants to anyway: Mary is a fucking expert when it comes to kissing.
Her hands are steady on Lily’s waist, and her lips move in perfect rhythm with Lily’s, making it that much better. Lily feels that tug again, but this time it tells her that she’s getting a little bothered about it, and rightfully so: Mary is fucking hot, hotter than anyone should be allowed to be, and getting to kiss her? Fucking unbelievable to Lily.
“Okay, jeez, we said a kiss, not ripping each other’s clothes off.” Emma rolls her eyes, and Lucy giggles.
“Ah but they’re in love!” she says and turns to look at Lily and Mary, who have separated. They both look rather, well, kissed through. Their lips are a little swollen, and their clothes are indeed ruffled. Maybe Mary’s hands were so steady on Lily’s waist.
Both Emma and Lily giggle at the girls embarrassment, and take their sign back, “Thanks, that was perfect.”
“Pet’s definitely going to be pissed. She’ll see what happens when you forbid girls to wear the dresses they bought for the occasion.” Lucy nods at them with a smile. When they start to leave, Lily calls them.
“Hey, do you guys want to hang with us? We were getting a bit bored before you got here.” She says, if only just to preserve herself. She doesn’t know what will happen if she and Mary find themselves alone right now, and she thinks it probably shouldn’t happen in the middle of a wedding reception.
Mary nods next to her, “Absolutely, yeah, let’s stick together.”
Emma nods quickly, “Ugh, please, I can’t hear anymore about her and her Brian…” she trails off, making Lucy giggle.
“Oh, who’s Brian?” Lily asks, and the two cousins look at each other, before walking with purpose.
“Follow us.” They order, and it’s not long until four of them find themselves at the back of the venue, hidden behind some trees, sitting on a wall with Mary. It seems Emma and Lucy have hung out there for most of the wedding, because there are a few chairs there already.
“We found this when we arrived, and we were planning on recruiting people our age to come with us here, but well. You’re almost our age, aren’t you?” Emma asks.
Mary smirks, “Just five years older.”
In the end, Lily and Mary spend about thirty minutes listening to Lucy’s tales about Brian, then Emma’s about a boy named Simon, until Emma and Lucy volunteer themselves to get them some drinks, claiming that no one is paying attention to who drinks in the punch fountain, and leave them alone. Thankfully, they’re alone for less than ten minutes, so nothing much happens.
Well, the tension is always bigger and bigger. Now that Lily knows how it feels to kiss Mary, to truly kiss her, she wants to do it again. She wants to go home to their flat in Paris and make love to her, she wants to hear her scream her name. She wants to kiss Mary again.
Next to her, Mary fidgets with the hem of her dress, probably to keep her hands from shaking. Lily notices that she is wearing the ring she bought her for her birthday, and she smiles. Maybe one day, instead of wearing it on her right hand, she’ll wear it on her left.
Look at her, thinking about this after kissing her once. She’s ridiculous, she thinks.
What’s even more ridiculous is that Lily and Mary don’t seem to know how to communicate when they aren’t surrounded by fourteen year olds. They sit in silence, sit in the midst of their tension without a word, and Lily likes to think it’s because one word is enough to tip their whole dynamics into something beyond repair.
Emma and Lucy come back after ten minutes with drinks in hand and three people following them. Lily recognises Vernon’s half-sister, who is sixteen and has been on her phone for most times Lily has met her, and the two other boys look a little older, perhaps Lily’s age, and have grins on their faces.
“We heard here was the counter party.” One of them greets, and Lily chuckles.
“Exactly. For society recluses.” She grins, and the other chuckles.
“That’s us.” He nods, “He’s gay and I’m a converted Muslim.”
“I’m black,” she says, pointing to herself, then to both Lily and her, “And we’re a couple.”
“Ooh, that’s tough.” The gay one chuckles.
“And we’re fourteen year old girls. The definition of a society recluse.” Emma chuckles.
“Too old to be a kid, but too young to be a teenager.” Lucy nods.
Vernon’s half sister looks at them, “I’m in a long-distance relationship. With a girl.” She explains, and look at Lily, “You know how they are.”
Lily smiles at her gently, “Yeah. But they’re the weird ones. Not us.”
“No, never.” The nameless Muslim one chuckles, “Never us.”
Time passes, and more and more society recluses join up on their counter party. By five in the afternoon, Lily can count more than fifteen chairs, not counting the younger ones who decided to sit on the grass. It warms her heart to think that even at a wedding of such bland people, there is as much variety. So much people who willingly go against Petunia and Vernon’s beliefs, people who willingly call themselves society recluses.
Lily almost manages to forget about her sister, and actually has fun. And, in talking to other queer people, who all share their experiences, she realises that yeah, she is queer. Not that she wasn’t sure, but it feels…validating, to see that other people feel the same way she does.
What is surprising is to hear Mary participate in those conversations too. She talks about how she’s always been confused, and about how she never quite managed to fall in love with a man, but that was much, much easier with Lily. She talks about the line between bisexuality and homosexuality, and about the weight it represented for her. She talks about it with such an ease, an ease that makes Lily feel uneasy. Because it either means that Mary is that great of a liar, or that all of it is true.
Lily doesn’t know which answer is the scariest.
At some point, Lily stops listening to other people and just concentrates on Mary, who is talking about sexuality, gender norms and racism with the two guys who arrived at first, Vernon’s half sister, two of Petunia’s friends who are from Senegal and Tunisia, and an older, mixed raced couple that arrived later on.
She seems so comfortable talking about this, and it makes Lily think that it must be a weight on her mind a lot of the time. Because really, Mary never, ever talks about the systemic racism she has to endure. She talks about sexism, and about shitty men, but Lily never heard her complain about racism. She just figured that Mary was lucky and that wasn’t the target to any of them, but it’s clear now, from the way she talks to their small group, that she has been, on a lot of occasions. Even now; she explains to the group that she suspects the reason her boss won’t promote her is because of her skin colour or afro hair.
Lily hadn’t thought of it, nor had Mary ever hinted at it being the reason, but it makes sense, she thinks. Fucking David sure looks like he could do that to women without an ounce of remorse.
In her haze of staring at Mary and drinking her words like punch, she doesn’t realise that the group silences rather quickly. Well, she does, but a little too late, and when she turns her head towards the group to see why no one is talking anymore, she understands why.
Petunia is standing there, red as ever, white hot fury in her eyes as she stare at Lily, who just looks back. She doesn’t really understand why Petunia looks this mad, and she starts to wonder if Vernon just stood her up until Petunia points her finger at Lily and bellows.
“You!” she roars, making the crowd of social recluses part like the red sea, “It’s always fucking you!”
“I…what did I do?” Lily asks with a frown, standing up from her chair. The entire group is silent, and it isn’t long for her to realise that the entire wedding has silenced entirely. If this doesn’t qualify as causing a scene, Lily doesn’t know what it is.
“‘What did I do’” she imitates, “You just can’t help it, can you!?” he yells, and Lily can see tears spring from her sister’s eyes. Even if Lily hates her, it hurts a little to see her cry. She’s her sister, someone Lily has spent most of her life seeking the love of. Someone who looks at Lily like she ruined her life.
“What?” Lily repeats, now raising her voice a little, “Tunie, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Don’t call me that!” Petunia yells, “It’s my fucking wedding! This is my moment, and you’re just stealing the fucking spotlight again!” she screams out like a crazy idiot, and Lily feels her eyes widen.
“I-“ Lily tries, feeling completely dumbfounded. She isn’t wearing white, she hasn’t gotten proposed to, she’s just been chatting with her wedding guests. Lily doesn’t see what she did to steal her spotlight, “Are we five? Pet, you’re the bride, no one can steal your ‘spotlight’ or whatever.”
“Well you are, aren’t you!” Petunia screams out, “You just had to choose my fucking wedding to tell everyone you’re a faggot, didn’t you?”
At that, Lily’s eyes go completely round. “Excuse me?” she stares at her sister, and any ounce of pity she ever felt for her is gone right then. She chuckles humourlessly, “I was allowed a plus one? I brought my girlfriend.” She recapitulates, “This has nothing to do with you.” She tells Petunia, who turns even redder. If there one sure thing, it’s that her wedding makeup is ruined. Well, it’s not like it looked good to begin with.
“Of course it does.” Petunia scoffs, “Everything you do is to be better than me.” She spits, and starts to imitate Lily, “Look at me, I’m a redhead, I’m so different, and smarter and going to a posh smart kid school!” she shouts out, “And even now, at my fucking wedding, you show up with a better partner and create your own, better party at the back of my venue, why don’t you!” Petunia cries out, “Just, you’re not fucking better than me! Can’t you just let me have this?” she screams, and Lily sees Vernon appear from the venue, apparently looking for his wife with a look of alarm.
When he sees the scene before him, though, he backtracks and walks back into the venue, as if he hadn’t seen anything. Fucking great start for a wedding, isn’t it?
Lily shakes her head at her sister. Now, it makes more sense to Lily. She understands why Petunia hates her now.
“I don’t think I’m better than you. You do. You think I’m better, and that’s why you’re doing everything you can to make me feel like less.” She shakes her head, “But now, you look like a crazy bitch causing at scene at her own wedding.” She shrugs, knowing it was harsh but hardly caring.
She has some nerve, really. First, she pretends that the invite to the wedding was lost in the mail, then she steals Lily’s room, and now she pins everything that goes wrong at her wedding on Lily’s back. As if it was her fault people prefer to hide behind some trees rather than talk with a bunch of racist old hags.
Petunia gasps, “What did you just call me?” she asks, then snarls at her, “You’re not better than me in any way. You’re fucking scum. A disgusting, redhaired, fat faggot who wasn’t even invited to the wedding!” she exclaims, and Lily sees it as her cue to go.
She rolls her eyes and sighs, “Fine, be a baby, see if I care. I’m done here.” Lily says and walks past her to leave, before stopping a few meters after her, “I just wanted to see my sister get married. Seems you can’t go one day without picking a bloody fight.” She shrugs and leaves, hearing Mary hurry to join her.
“Make me pass for the mean one, why don’t you!” Petunia screams back, and Lily doesn’t even turn to look back.
She walks fast, and she knows that Mary isn’t far, so she doesn’t look back to wait for her. She walks back into the venue, and suddenly, all the rage Lily had bubbling inside of her just blows up. She’s as angry as ever, and she half wants to walk back there and slap Petunia across the face.
Just, Lily doesn’t understand. Petunia clearly didn’t want her to come, but Lily was certain of it: she would hate herself if she missed her sister’s wedding. Now, she thinks, for once in her life, that Petunia was right. She shouldn’t have come.
It’s like Petunia doesn’t know how to be a normal human being in Lily’s presence. As if everything that goes wrong in the world is Lily’s fault. As if it’s alright for her to yell at Lily after every single minor inconvenience.
The thing is, with Lily, it’s that injustice has never sat right with her. And the fury it engages makes her feel reckless and impulsive. Stupid, if you ask her. But in that moment, walking through the venue to the parking lot, she just needs to channel this anger somewhere. The cold taste of injustice that makes Lily feel insane. It needs to go.
And Mary is right there, next to her, asking things Lily hasn’t quite paid attention to, too wrapped up in her anger to care. But she looks beautiful. And Lily wants to kiss her. And if she’s a disgusting redhaired faggot, well, she’s got to live up to that name, doesn’t she?
In one swift motion she fists Mary’s arm gently and directs her onto the first closed door she can find. She opens it: a broom closet big enough for two people. Perfect.
She manhandles Mary in, who looks at her warily, and once they’re both inside, she presses herself closer to her.
“Can I kiss you?” she asks, already putting her hands on Mary’s face, looking down at her with utter care and love. She’s just always there, isn’t she? Whenever Lily wants or needs someone, Mary is there, ready to be whatever Lily needs her to be in that moment. Lily loves her more than anything.
Mary nods, staring at Lily with big eyes, which slid shut when Lily presses her lips to Mary’s without waiting anymore. Fuck, she’s been wanting this. It feels like having a smoke after a few days, like taking your bra off at the end of the day, like the first breath of air after being underwater for too long. Mary’s lips feel like a new friend: she knows them, but still has so, so much to learn about them. About the way they move, the way their tongues dance against the other, the way sweet little sounds sometimes leave Mary’s throat deliciously.
Lily’s hands move from her face to her neck, then down over her collarbones and shoulders, while Mary’s own hands find their way onto Lily’s arse. It only spurs Lily more, makes her feel like she’s on fire, and she kisses Mary much more hungrily, because it’s just how she feels. Hungry. She wants more, so much more, she wants it all, forever and ever, always and all of it. Mary is like a drug: addictive and sinful but oh, so, so good. Lily is addicted already, and she won’t be pried away as easily.
“I-Fuck” Mary pants into Lily’s mouth as Lily slots her legs in between Mary’s. “Can-can you…?” she asks, and Lily draws back from her mouth.
“What?” she asks, staring at her. She looks beautiful, kissed through and ruffled, yes, but gorgeous. It makes Lily’s heart beat faster.
“Touch me.” Mary sighs out and kisses Lily again, lacing her fingers together at the back of Lily’s head. Without thinking, Lily obliges. She moves her hands to roam all over Mary’s body, still as she kisses her without relent, and after a minor dilemma on her mind, she decides to head for Mary’s breasts.
Now, not to be gay or anything, but Lily has noticed Mary’s breasts. She has. Even before she learned all about her feelings; as soon as Mary’s breasts started growing, Lily noticed. She would be lying if she said she didn’t stare for a little longer than girl best friends should when they would change together in the dorm as girls. But they were just so, so beautiful. Sure, admittedly bigger than the norm, but also just beautiful.
So, if only to answer her young self’s fantasies, she slides Mary’s sleeves off her shoulders, letting the top of her dress fall over her skirt. It lets a nude bra show, and Lily doesn’t waste her time before she takes it off. And finally, under her are Mary’s naked boobs. Thank God for women, right?
“You’re fucking heavenly.” Lily sighs out before taking one onto her mouth, lightly sucking on her nipples. She’s never been with a woman, but being one herself, she thinks it should feel good. She is answered when Mary throws her head back and sighs out making Lily know she’s doing okay.
Lily takes way too much time on her breasts, and after ten minutes to an hour – Lily isn’t very good with numbers right now, it seems – she hears someone try to open the door against which Lily is doing some very ungodly things to her best friend.
“Let’s get out of here, yeah?” Mary asks, still panting with her rock hard nipples still showing.
Lily whines, “But I wanted to do more.”
Mary chuckles, “We live together. Trust me, you’ll have plenty of time for that.”
Lily smirks at her then, and retrieves Mary’s bra from the floor, “So, we’ll continue this later then?” she asks, because, well, they’re not really supposed to be fucking. Still fake dating, actually.
“Of course.” Mary rolls her eyes, “I haven’t seen you naked since ninth grade. I need to upgrade my wanking material.”
“Excuse me?” Lily’s eyes widen in shock, and is only answered with Mary’s laughter.
They walk back out onto the venue a little later, when they’re both breathing normally again and dressed, only to see that the ambiance has gone from somewhat festive to downright depressed. Lily grins smugly to herself and takes Mary’s hand to leave the wedding, swearing to herself not to see her sister again if she can help it.