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“You look really pretty,” Amelia murmured softly to Anya as she sat beside her, the two sharing the mirror space. Her friend sniffled, and Amelia cooed softly as she dabbed her cheeks with the bunched corner of a tissue. “Hey hey hey, no tears yet. You can cry all you want at the altar, okay?”
“I— I’m crying from happiness, Melya,” Anya reassured her, her trembling lips pulled into an effortful smile that twisted Amelia up inside. They looked at each other, beautiful bride and maid of honor, looking truly stunning in their own right. Anya was like a painting come to life, no, a statue— no, a goddess— and all Amelia could do was put the finishing touches on her make up before it could be all cried away.
“Well good, you should be happy. You get to marry— the love of your life. I’d be real sad if you weren’t happy,” Amelia tried to mean it, but in truth she was already sad. Devastated, in fact. That she was in just an honorary dress and not a proper wedding dress, as she should have been. Anya caught her hand and squeezed it, smiling a little wider.
“Nyet. I’m happy because you are here with me, supporting me. I’m so glad that you’ll be up there with me. I don’t think I’d have the courage to otherwise,” she admitted, her voice soft and earnest. Amelia sucked in a breath, holding back her tears and her true emotions.
“Me too. I’m… I’m really glad to be here with you, too. I love you, you know?” She confessed, hoping Anya would finally understand. But her friend just nodded, leaning close and wrapping Amelia up in a tight hug.
“I know. I love you, too, my sunshine,” she promised and kissed Amelia’s ear, pulling back and dusting herself off. “Come, let’s go, everyone is waiting for us.”
“I’m right behind you,” Amelia could scarcely breathe, pent up and somehow still her best friend’s friend.
Just a friend…