For Sinthia, Wedding Plans

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It still felt like something from a dream. Illya had proposed to Sinthia a couple of months before. Surprising her with a Faberge ring at her work. The date they had chosen was only a few months away.

"Avi, buddy, hold still just a little longer," Illya told the dog and petted him before pinning the tuxedo's hem so it wouldn't interfere with the dog's tail. It would come down just to his hips. He had the dog up on his work table, so he didn't have to bend down to work. The fabric was a fabulous silver silk brocade. Far too expensive in most people's view for a dog's tuxedo but how many times would he and Sinthia get married. Luckily for the tall Russian, his furry friend liked Illya enough that he actually was very patient with being fussed over. Illya carefully placed the pins, "You are being such a good boy."

Comments

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"Of course, I'll go with you. I like this idea very much," he smiled. "Oh good. Yes something acoustic. Do you want traditional wedding march or something different, like Vivaldi?"

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She gave him a funny look for that. "I am not a wedding march kind of woman," Sinthia said dryly.

"I think....something different. Maybe the Bach preludes? They're very pretty."

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Illya laughed, "Somehow I did not think so. Prelude in C Major would be nice. Or Pachebel's canon. But you can have whatever music you like."

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"I'm sure we'll decide on one of them," she said lightly. "We have time."

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"True," He leaned down to kiss her. "So while we are relaxing tonight, is there anything you would like to do?"

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Sinthia tilted her chin up and happily kissed back, enjoying having Illya supporting her and curled around her, warm and comforting.

"I bought some things while I was getting your buttons that I thought we could do together," she said. "I know you're making my dress and veil, but I want to make something for you too. Do you want to help me make your boutonniere, and my hair comb?"

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"Oh yes?" he smiled. "I love that we can be creative together. What did you get?"

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She rose gracefully, and went to get a small bag of silk flowers and wire and some floral odds and ends nestled among which was a small black velour box. "Look and see."

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He opened the bag, "What is this? You got me present?" Illya pulled out the black jewelry box. It was too big for a ring box. Setting the bag on the coffee table, he pried open the box, revealing a small and delicate rose stick pin. Carefully, he took it out of the box. It seemed so tiny in his hands. The petals were studded with something sparkly that on close examination, weren't rhinestones. "This is so beautiful, darling. Thank you."

[abyssum_invocat]

"Now we match," she said softly, smiling as he held the stick pin in his hands. "You should wear it for the ceremony," Sinthia murmured. "When I wear my rose."

She'd made it to match, having collaborated closely with one of the shops the auction house used to restore antiques to near-perfect condition. "It...seemed right."

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"Of course I will wear it," He kissed her again. "You have very good taste, my darling." Illya carefully placed it back in it's box before he could manage to lose the delicate thing. "Is that for my boutonniere or for my tie?"

[abyssum_invocat]

"It can be worn either way," Sinthia answered, nuzzling close to him after he kissed her. "Depending on how you want to wear your tie. But I wanted to wear a different comb for the reception if I'm going to be dancing with you, so the heavy one doesn't fall out."

And she'd make him a matching boutonniere for that, too. "I saw a little of the lace you bought for the dress, and I thought roses would go with it."

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"It matches perfectly," he said nuzzling her back. "And very practical of you. Especially since I want our first dance to be tango." He slid his arms around her drawing her into his lap.

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"Not wasting any time, are you?" she chuckled, giving up on keeping her spot on the couch and relenting to being moved into Illya's lap. "We can't get too involved, the food will be here soon," she protested, albeit feebly.

"The tango like we did in my kitchen all that time ago?"

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"You know I do not like to waste time," he chuckled. "Damn, I forgot about food coming. We will have to be satisfied with foreplay. Yes, that one. Assassin's Tango, da?" he said.

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"That is what it's called," she replied, amused as she settled on her soon-to-be husband's lap comfortably, winding her arms around his shoulders. "It's alright. Once they leave we can have pizza and sex wherever we like."

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"That could get little bit messy," he laughed and kissed her again. Illya imagined them eating pizza in bed between having sex. He couldn't remember ever being this happy before. He smiled so much it made his face ache. Probably because smiling was exercising muscles he hadn't used in a long time.

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"Do you mind that so much?" she asked, kissing his cheek and down to his neck. "I thought you were a fearless Vor protector, and you don't want a little mess?"

She loved being able to tease him, make him laugh as she slid her hands into his shirt, pulled out from his belt: foreplay indeed. Most of all Sinthia just loved Illya, loved all of him and his smile when he looked at her. It could be from across a crowded runway show or just the kitchen table in their flat but she loved the look.

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"That's blood and gore. This is melted cheese and hot pizza sauce! Is like lava you get it on bare skin," he teased back.

"You would not want it on certain very sensitive body parts." Laying back against the couch, Illya chuckled as she slid her hands beneath his shirt.

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"I'd be careful," Sinthia replied dramatically, rolling her eyes as the doorbell rang and she had to sit up, the prelude to going and actually getting the pizza.

"How about pizza here on the couch instead?"

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"I am sure you would be careful," he laughed just before the doorbell rang. "I think it would be wise decision." Illya sat up as Sinthia went to the door.

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"Such a high compliment from the man of the house," she said, paying for the box and bringing it back to where they'd been sitting.

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Illya laughed, "I could be biased, you know." He sat up and straightened out his shirt. While Sinthia paid for the pizza he got napkins from the kitchen.

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Sinthia chuckled as she met him back at the couch with the warm cardboard box balanced perfectly level, her hands not touching it at all. "Could be?" she asked. "I know you're biased. I like it."

She rose up on her toes to kiss him lightly. "I love you, ptichka."

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"I like it too," he kissed her back. "I love you,
moya malen'kaya koroleva." He set the napkins on the table. "You want something to drink?"