Perfection

Clara Schwarz

Well-Known Member
Messages
439
OOC First Name
Camilla!
Wand
Hemlock Wand 13 1/3", Essence of Niffler Fur
Clara had been working hard to make sure everything was absolutely perfect. The house was spotless, the garden was in perfect order...nothing was out of place. Nothing was going to spoil her big day, not if she had anything to say about it.

Secretly, she was squealing with delight, though she took great care not to show it. It wasn't as though she'd been dreaming of this day ever since she was eleven years old or anything. Well, possibly longer, she'd been dreaming of being a princess and getting married ever since she was little. She'd been dreaming of Joseph being her prince ever since she'd met him.

Of course, in her late twenties, Clara was far too sophisticated to be so excitable. Clad in a tight yet elegant white dress, she carefully rearranged her bouquet again, made sure her hair was perfect, and then casually sat down on the lounge. She was due out in the garden for the ceremony in five minutes, and she refused to be too early or too late. She would be perfectly on time, and today would run smoothly. Or else, somebody would pay. Her wand was concealed carefully in the bouquet. Just in case she needed it.

Two minutes. Nothing was going to go wrong. She was sure of it.
 
Joseph stood in the garden in, what were probably, the smartest clothes he would ever care to wear. His hair had been neatly trimmed around the edges, and he had shaved the two-week stubble from his face, leaving it baby-smooth and soft. All in all, he felt like a complete twonk with his shining shoes and mastered attire. Still, he was doing this for a good cause; an easy life, with any luck. He gave himself a small, throaty laugh at the thought. No. No life with that woman was ever going to flow easily, no matter how well the day went. After all, it would likely be just one day in a million, right?

The garden was looking wonderful. Which was great news for his betrothed who had obviously planned it all out to the very last detail, the old hag. As for Joseph, himself, he could not care less how decorated the garden was, or even if the bride was wearing a dress (an amusing thought crossed his mind, one that he knew was likely inappropriate for that point in time). This was not about wealth, or beauty, or any old rubbish like that. This was about Joseph and Clara, and their ever-burning hatred for each other.

"Not long, now," he said aloud, admiring his silver pocket watch, before tucking it back into his breast pocket. Not long until you're stuck with that bag for the rest of your life.
 
He'd watched his older sister marry a respectable (yet possibly psychotic) pureblood man and now Mark was about to watch his younger sister do the same. Of course it was more than that, Joseph was his best friend in the entire world and there was almost a little sadness in Mark over feeding such a great friend to the rabid wolf that was Clara. He loved Clara in his own way - she was a reasonably good sister, but still. It almost seemed like punishment for both of them to be getting married. He was sure they would be happy, but still.

His suit was pressed and well maintained - Clara had made sure of that - and as he stood next to his best friend, Mark nudged Joseph with an elbow. "Hey, you alright?" he asked, genuinely concerned.
 
Joseph did not make eye contact with Mark. Whatever he could have said in reply, was going to be lie. No, he was not alright, but neither was he not alright. He was both at once. He was about to get married. The one and only time he would get married. He had not even had so much as a stag night, or anything along those lines. It had all been Clara's decisions. She was Clara, after all, and he had no intention of upsetting his beautiful fiancé. Yet.

"Yeah," he lied, looking down at the cuffs of his shirt and adjusting them for no reason other than to avoid Mark's eyes, "I'm fine." He gave a slight, curled cough. "And you? Are you alright?" Again, he did not look up, and instead addressed the question to the cuffs of his shirt. If they could have responded, their answer would probably have been much like his own, only slightly more muffled. Joseph guessed it couldn't be easy for Mark to have his sister he had been so close to, about to run off with his best friend. Joseph couldn't picture married life with Clara. And he didn't want to, either.

His hand felt its way into his breast pocket, digging out a piece of paper with scrawls of cursive writing upon it. Joseph had chosen to write a little something to say. Perhaps they were vows, perhaps they weren't, depending on how legally binding his words would become.
 
Joseph and Mark were no doubt scheming something, Clara thought, with her eyes narrowed as she peered out the window in to the garden. Her natural paranoia was getting the better of her, so she stepped back, took a deep breath, and dramatically threw open the doors. She was going to make an entrance, dammit. All eyes had to be on her, or else.

Holding her head up high, she noticed Joseph and Mark stopped talking. Mark was looking at her...Joseph wasn't. Clara couldn't help but scowl, though her face quickly smoothed in to her familiar look of quiet scorn. Surely he was just nervous, who wouldn't be, after all, marrying someone as beautiful as she? Gliding in to place, Clara stood by Joseph, looking at him expectantly.

Everything seemed to be running smoothly. Clara said her vows, very generic but they seemed to work fine. She wasn't going to deviate too much from the plan. After all, it had to be perfect.

The minister looked at Joseph, waiting for his words.
 
He stood in silence, rummaging through his breast pocket for the piece of paper. Where was it? It had been there just a moment ago.. He drew the pocket watch out, before continuing his search, and inevitably finding the small piece of paper. After replacing the watch, he cleared his throat, turned to face Clara, and kept his eyes glued to the piece of paper as he started to speak. "Never have I met somebody who is going to annoy me quite like you shall continue to. To call you you a loathsome hag would give you too little credit. And now my number's up, and I'm going to spend the rest of my life- or yours, depending who gets hold of the poison first- with you." Joseph tucked the note away, glanced back up at Clara to witness her reaction, before giving a nod to the open-mouth minister to confirm he was finished. Joseph had decided not to stick with something traditional, something that risked making some form of promise to love and cherish, blah, blah, blah. No, this worked just fine. The message was there. She only had to find it.

The minister, who should have expected as much, given the reception Joseph had awarded him by scarcely acknowledging his existence upon arrival, continued on with the service. Joseph stood and listened, responding where appropriate. Though he had made eye contact with both Clara and the minister, something was lacking in his gaze. He couldn't quite give it his all. Something inside of him was screaming for freedom. Why couldn't he silence it? Without a stag night, there had never been any real last minute risk-taking, or chances at doing something memorable and outrageous. It was just going to be this ceremony, and then a lifetime of arguments. Oh, the arguments he was fine with, but the something inside continued to complain. It wanted out. It wanted out right now. The minister inquired about the rings. Joseph turned to Mark, not looking at him, mumbling "rings".
 
Mark had to suppress his laughter at Joseph's vows. Yep, that was Joseph alright. Clara's mouth twitched in response, though whether it was in to a smile or a scowl, Mark wasn't exactly sure. Though, if she got the hidden message, which he was sure she would have, it was probably more of a smile. Still, something seemed a little off with Joseph. Mark wasn't sure what it was...maybe it was the fact that he was going in to almost a jailterm with Clara. He'd always said he'd feel sorry for whoever Clara ended up with. Though, on the other hand, he was pretty sure Joseph knew how to handle her.

At the mention of rings, Mark rifled around in his pockets, pulling out the rings he'd been carrying. Or, the rings that Clara had safely planted in his pocket minutes before he went out to the actual ceremony. With a small smile at Joseph, he held his hand out to the man.
 
Joseph couldn't prevent his eyes from twitching at the sudden presentation of the rings. This was really it. His best friend was about to become his brother-in-law, and that same man's little sister, was about to become his wife. The whole scenario at last hit home, and Joseph could feel that swirl inside his head, the thing with the complaint, finally just outright declaring its desires, as Joseph raised his head to look into Mark's eyes for some sign of comfort. Mark had a small smile on his face. Joseph couldn't help it. Impulse was taking over to stop fighting the urge to do something outrageous. He took a paused step towards Mark, reaching up a hand, but not to take the rings. Instead, it found its way to his face. It stroked Mark's cheek, luring him closer before Joseph moved in for the kill, pressing his lips onto Mark's in a passionate, and unforgiving snog.
 
Mark was stunned. He didn't exactly know what to say or do in this situation. His best friend was kissing him, and to be perfectly honest, Mark didn't actually mind. Sure, Joseph was supposed to be marrying his sister, and as a big brother, he should have taken more offense to it, but hey. The man was a pretty good kisser.

His eyes widened when he saw Clara's look of stunned but unbridled rage, and Mark sensed it was time for him to be more of a big brother...and torment the hell out of his sister. Closing his eyes, he kissed Joseph back for all he was worth, sliding a hand around to the small of his back as he pressed himself closer to him. Oh yes. This was fun.

They broke apart after a couple of moments and Mark smirked at Clara, who was about to break her bouquet in fury. "Well, mein lieb," Mark said with a wink at Joseph. "Pub?"
 
He had no intention of confiding his thoughts in anyone, as to what went through his head as he kissed his greatest of friends, whom had also kissed him back in a wonderful twist to the already troubling event. Had he chosen to reveal his thoughts, however, Joseph would have in the least said that whoever Mark got with, would be very lucky indeed, and at most would have said that the whole thing left him with something ever more troubling that he would confess to no-one.

Joseph turned to look over at his bride-to-be. He'd just kissed her brother. He could only hope it had wound her up, and by the look of things, it had. He turned back to Mark, hearing his offer. "You know what?" he said with a smile that quickly evolved into a grin, "I think I will." He placed an arm around Mark's waist, and began to walk away with him, before stopping himself, saying "just a moment," snatching the rings from Mark, and darting back to Clara to slide the ring onto her un-co-operating finger. "Right," he said cheerfully, backing off again now that they both had their wedding bands on, "I'll see you later." And with that, he rejoined Mark, and the two of them disapparated in the most irritating manner they could manage.
 

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