Page 36 of Beauty and the Grendel

A knock at the door startled us both. “Gentlemen, it’s time,” a voice called from the other side.

I took one last look in the mirror, smoothing down the lapels of my tuxedo. This was it. The moment I’d been waiting for. The moment I’d fought for, tooth and nail.

“Let’s do this,” I said, squaring my shoulders.

Mason grinned, opening the door. “After you, Prince Charming.”

I rolled my eyes at the nickname, but I couldn’t suppress the smile that spread across my face as I stepped out into the hallway. My future awaited, and for the first time in my life, I was ready to embrace it with open arms.

My breath caught in my throat as I stood beneath the vibrant canopy of maple leaves, their fiery hues painting the gazebo in a warm, autumnal glow. The gentle breeze carried the sweet scent of fallen leaves and the promise of new beginnings. I fidgeted with my cufflinks, my heart pounding in my chest as I waited for the moment I’d been dreaming of for months.

And then, like a vision from a fairytale, she appeared.

Harlow stepped out of the tent, a lovely figure draped in ivory silk and delicate lace. The gown hugged her curves, the flowing skirt cascading around her like a waterfall of shimmering fabric. Intricate beadwork adorned the bodice, catching the light and casting a dazzling array of sparkles with every movement. Her dark hair swept in an elegant updo, a few stray tendrils framing her face and dancing in the breeze.

But it was her eyes that captivated me, those soulful brown orbs that had seen past my monstrous exterior and into the depths of my heart. They shone with love and adoration as she locked her gaze with mine, a radiant smile gracing her lips.

Harlow’s father stood tall and proud beside her, his eyes glistening with unshed tears as he prepared to give his only daughter away. Together, they began their slow procession down the makeshift aisle; the path lined with the smiling faces of our friends and family.

Rose petals, a vibrant crimson against the emerald grass, fluttered in the breeze as Harlow’s feet graced the aisle. The guests, a mix of Harlow’s loved ones and the citizens of Grimsby, watched in reverent silence as the bride made her way towards me. I could feel the love and support radiating from every one of them, a testament to the journey Harlow and I had undertaken to reach this moment.

As Harlow drew closer, I found myself lost in her beauty, in the way her eyes sparkled and her smile lit up the world around her. She was a vision of grace and elegance, a beautiful princess in every sense of the word. And somehow, by some miraculous twist of fate, she had chosen me.

Harlow’s father placed her hand in mine, a silent blessing as he entrusted his daughter’s heart to my care. We stood together beneath the gazebo; the maple leaves rustling softly above us as we prepared to exchange our vows.

The officiant’s melodic voice carried through the crisp autumn air, each word a heartfelt promise of eternal love and devotion. The world faded away until only Harlow and I remained.

“Do you, Harlow, take Griiq to be your lawfully wedded husband?” the officiant asked, his eyes shining with warmth.

Harlow’s gentle voice anchored me as she responded, “I do. With all my heart, I pledge my life and my love to you, Griiq. You are my home, my sanctuary, and my forever.”

Tears threatened to spill from my eyes as the officiant turned to me. “And do you, Griiq, take Harlow to be your lawfully wedded wife?”

I struggled to keep my composure, my voice thick with emotion as I spoke the words that would bind us together for eternity. “I do. Harlow, you are the light in my darkness, the hope in my heart. I promise to love you, cherish you, and protect you for all of my days, in this life and beyond.”

With trembling hands, we exchanged the rings Harlow’s father had given upon us—simple diamond encrusted bands of gold that held the weight of our unbreakable bond. As I slipped the ring onto Harlow’s finger, I marveled at the way it glinted in the sunlight, a symbol of our love and the future we would build together.

The officiant’s last words rang out, a declaration of our union that echoed through the autumn air. “I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride.”

I cupped Harlow’s face in my hands, my charcoal gray skin a stark contrast to her porcelain complexion. Our lips met in a tender kiss, a seal of our love and the beginning of our happily ever after. The guests erupted in a chorus of cheers and applause, their joy a tangible force that enveloped us in its warm embrace.

As we turned to face our loved ones, hand in hand, I knew that this was just the beginning of our story. A story of love, acceptance, and the power of believing in the impossible. A story etched in the annals of our lives, a testament to the eternal bond between a misunderstood monster and the woman who saw the beauty within.

As we stepped into the ballroom, hand in hand, the sheer beauty of the reception struck me as an enchanted wonderland, with twinkling lights strung from the rafters and delicate floral arrangements adorning every surface. The soft glow of candles, the gentle strains of music, and the joyful chatter of our guests filled the air.

Harlow leaned in close, her lips brushing against my ear as she whispered, “Can you believe this is really happening, Griiq? It’s like a dream come true.”

I smiled down at her, my heart swelling with love and gratitude. “It’s better than any dream, my love. This is our reality, and I wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world.”

As we made our way to the center of the dance floor, the guests parted, forming a circle around us. The music swelled, and I drew Harlow into my arms, our bodies moving in perfect sync as we began our first dance as husband and wife.

I twirled her around, her ivory gown billowing out like a cloud, and she laughed, her eyes sparkling with joy. “You’ve been holding out on me, Griiq! I had no idea you were such a fantastic dancer.”

I grinned, dipping her low and bringing her back up with a flourish. “Well, I may have taken a few lessons in secret. I wanted to make sure I could sweep you off your feet on our big day.”

As the song ended, Harlow’s father stepped forward, his eyes glistening with emotion. “May I cut in?” he asked, his voice thick with pride.

I nodded, placing Harlow’s hand in his. “Of course, sir. She’s all yours.”

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