The champagne danced in Amelia's stomach, mirroring the music that thumped through the reception hall. She practically skipped over to the open bar, a wide smile splitting her face. "Two flutes of bubbly, please!" she chirped, her eyes sparkling like the fairy lights strung across the ceiling. She took a deep breath, the scent of lilies and roasted chicken filling her lungs, and winked at the bartender. Everything felt wonderfully, ridiculously light.
She spotted him then, across the crowded dance floor, a familiar face amidst a sea of unfamiliar ones. Her heart gave a sudden, erratic thump. She raised her eyebrows, a silent question forming on her lips. Then she caught her friend's eye and forced herself to wave enthusiastically, pretending she hadn’t seen anything.
Later, she found herself laughing hysterically at a joke about the best man's unfortunate dance moves. When the best man was gone, she turned and there he was, leaning against a pillar, a half-smile playing on his lips. “Fancy meeting you here,” he said, his voice a low rumble. "You look...good," he finished. Amelia took a breath, feeling the air fill her lungs. "You too," she replied, and then she laughed. She couldn't help herself.