What Happens in Penacony... Stays Legally Binding
Stelle awoke to the shrill sound of an alarm, a numb arm, and a pounding headache. Blinking against the harsh light filtering through the hotel curtains, she groaned and tried to sit up—only to realize that something, or rather someone, was weighing her down.
Three things stood out immediately.
First, March was curled up beside her, using Stelle’s arm as a pillow.
Second, two of March’s beloved polaroid cameras, along with a mess of film strips, were scattered across the hotel room floor.
And third, bottles of alcohol—way too many—were strewn around like confetti after a parade.
Stelle let her gaze drift back to March, taking in the soft pink of her hair, the gentle rise and fall of her chest, the warmth of her body pressed lightly against her own. Her lips parted slightly in admiration, only for a jolt of shock to shoot through her when March’s bright blue eyes fluttered open, staring right at her.
Stelle froze.
March blinked sleepily before offering a groggy, “Morning,”
Wait—what?
Stelle barely managed a choked-out, “Good morning,” as March giggled, only to wince instantly from the pain of her hangover.
“Are you okay?” Stelle asked, concern lacing her voice.
March waved her off weakly. “Yeah, yeah. We must’ve gone hard last night, huh?” She tried for a smile, though the expression faltered as another wave of pain likely hit.
Stelle sighed and suggested, “Let’s sit up and get some water.” Carefully, she maneuvered March into a sitting position, holding her steady as she got up. But the moment her bare foot touched the floor, she felt something crinkle under it.
Frowning, she bent down to pick up the offending object. It was a piece of paper, slightly crumpled but still legible.
And at the top, in bold, official lettering, it read:
Marriage Certificate.
Stelle's eyes widen as she reads the names on the marriage certificate: Stelle and March Septima. Her pulse quickens as she rereads it, hoping it's some kind of joke. But the official-looking seal at the bottom of the paper tells her otherwise.
"Uh... March?" Stelle's voice is hesitant, almost nervous.
March, still holding her head in one hand, groans. "Yeah?"
Stelle hesitates, unsure of how to say it. Instead, she simply hands over the paper. March takes it, blinking blearily at the words before suddenly sitting up straight.
"Wait. WAIT. Stelle, are we—?" March's voice rises in pitch as she clutches the certificate, eyes darting between the paper and Stelle.
"Married? Yeah. Looks like it." Stelle exhales, running a hand down her face. "What the hell did we do last night?"
March frantically looks around the room, spotting the scattered polaroids. She scrambles off the bed, nearly tripping over an empty bottle, and starts gathering them. As she flips through the pictures, her expression shifts from confusion to amusement to sheer horror.
"Stelle. These are—these are all from our wedding," March says, holding up a photo of them at what looks like a tiny chapel. Both of them are grinning, hands intertwined, rings clearly visible. Another picture shows March throwing her bouquet, and another captures Stelle dipping March for what was clearly a celebratory kiss.
Stelle groans. "Oh my god."
March stares at her, then back at the photos, then back at Stelle. A slow, mischievous smile creeps onto her face. "Well, wifey, what do we do now?"
Being called *wifey* was not something Stelle had ever thought about—if she *ever* thought about it at all. And being called that by *March*, her *crush*, was an even bigger deal. She really, *really* didn’t want March to stop.
But sitting around in their hotel room wasn't going to change anything, so after sorting through the *many* polaroids of their questionable decisions, they decided to finally step out.
The moment they left their room, the sound of laughter echoed from the lobby downstairs. Stelle and March exchanged a look before heading toward the voices. As they got closer, the chatter became clearer—specifically, *their* friends from the Astral Express were in the middle of a conversation that sent Stelle’s stomach into a freefall.
"*—I mean, it was bound to happen eventually,*" Himeko laughed. "*Stelle’s crush finally bore some fruit—*"
Stelle *froze*, then *bolted* toward Himeko, clapping a hand over her mouth. "*Himeko, that was supposed to be a secret!*" she hissed under her breath, heart pounding.
Himeko blinked before slowly prying Stelle’s hand away with an amused grin. "*Why’s that a problem?*" she teased, raising an eyebrow. "*You’re married now.*"
Stelle's face burned with a mix of embarrassment and panic as she stood there, hand still hovering near Himeko’s mouth. Her mind raced, thoughts tangled in a mess of confusion, shock, and disbelief.
"Married?!" she hissed in a whisper, barely able to control her voice. "Himeko, you can’t just—"
Himeko shrugged casually, leaning back in her seat with an amused grin. "What? It’s cute, really. Honestly, I’m more surprised it took you two this long."
March, who had followed Stelle into the lobby with an equally confused and slightly dazed expression, chimed in. “Himeko, stop teasing us! This wasn’t—this wasn’t supposed to happen like this.”
“Oh, come on, it’s adorable!” Himeko teased, eyes twinkling with mischief. “Look at you two—total lovebirds already.”
"Not the point!" Stelle blurted out, her cheeks flushed. She glanced around the lobby, praying no one else had overheard. “This is—this is way too much to process right now.”
"Yeah, I get it," March added, rubbing her temples. "I’m still trying to figure out how we ended up getting married in the first place. We didn’t even—" She stopped herself, eyes widening as if she just remembered something. "Oh no. Did we—did we *drink* last night? Like, *a lot*?”
"Understatement of the year," Himeko replied with a laugh, still clearly enjoying the chaos she’d caused. "But honestly, I’m proud of you two. You’ve been dancing around each other for ages, and now look at you. Maybe this whole 'married' thing will speed things up."
Stelle shot Himeko a pleading look, desperately wishing the floor would swallow her up. March, however, seemed less embarrassed than she expected, her lips curling into a grin.
“Well, it looks like we’ve got a *lot* to talk about,” March said, raising an eyebrow at Stelle. "But first, we’re going to need a little more water... and some coffee."
Stelle just shook her head, her heart still racing as she tried to grasp the full extent of what had just happened. "This is not how I planned my morning," she muttered under her breath, already mentally preparing for what would likely be the most awkward day of her life.
*this is an unfinished chapter*