The Wedding Planning Blues
Lexa sat at the dining room table, pamphlets, menus, budgets, and seating charts scattered around her. She hung her head in her hands and groaned.
“Wedding planning blues keeping you up?” Lexa whipped her head up at the sound of her lovely fianceé.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you. I couldn’t sleep, so I figured I’d try and narrow down some of these choices.” Lexa gestured grandly to the mess of papers littering their table.
Clarke walked up behind her, linked her arms around her neck, and kissed her cheek. Lexa tilted her head as far back as it would go and was rewarded with a slow sensual kiss. It was awkward at this angle, so after just a few moments, Lexa tugged on Clarke’s wrist and pulled her into her lap. Clarke re-wrapped her arms around Lexa’s neck and kissed her properly.
Lexa’s hands began to wander, sneaking up under the soft cotton of Clarke’s sleep shirt. “Come back to bed, tiger,” Clarke panted between kisses. “I think I can tire you out better than these papers can.”
Lexa happily followed Clarke back into the bedroom, and after an intense orgasm, was indeed, able to fall back asleep.
“You know, we could just skip all this.”
Lexa threw a most spectacular side-eye at Clarke. “We really can’t. We need to book the venue, so we can print the save-the-dates, and then make all of the hundreds of tiny choices that are required when planning a big white wedding.”
“We should just get someone to make all our life choices for us. Save us the trouble.”
Lexa laughed at the possibility because it did sound rather appealing at the moment. No agonizing about whether or not she was considering all the potential outcomes, no worrying about how it turned out in the end. It would be so freeing to be able to blame or thank someone else for how her life progressed.
But that was just wishful thinking. And they really did need to pick a venue soon.
“I’m serious, Lexa. We could skip all of this.”
“You don’t want to get married now?”
“I want to be married to you yesterday. All this big white wedding bullshit, it isn’t necessary,” Clarke waved her hand dramatically. “Think about it. You, me, the courthouse. We could be married by the end of the week and for like a hundred bucks.”
Lexa leaned back in her office chair. Clarke had a spectacular point. The big white wedding was mostly for the benefit of their friends and family, and Lexa thought it was what Clarke wanted. But here she was proposing a much simpler, much more budget-friendly alternative.
Should she continue to plan the big wedding? It would undoubtedly make their families happy, and Lexa did secretly fantasize about walking down the aisle and seeing her future wife in a beautiful dress and the whole spectacle of dancing and cake and flowers and family and friends. But then again, they could just throw a big party after a courthouse wedding where most of her fantasies could be arranged for a fraction of the cost.
