#adta

next to you was a guy. a guy with messy brown hair, a white t-shirt, and the shape of a face you knew way too well. finn. as in, your best friend finn. you let out a sigh through your lips, but ended up taking it right back in. how on earth did the two of you end up in the same bed?

something scratched your now fidgeting fingers. there, on your ring finger, was a clearly fake sapphire ring. the cheap silver and gemstone both had tall rays of light bouncing off them. you furrowed your eyebrows. before you could even start to search for an answer, the sound of finn snoring made you jolt. you followed it. 

sleeping on his stomach, finn looked the most relaxed he ever had: his mouth was slightly agape, his jaw wasn’t in its typical clench, and his palm was flat against the pillow, resting not too far from his face. on his ring finger was a ring with the same silver as yours. the only difference was the lack of gem.

your eyes flicked between your ring and his over and over again. if it was a dream, you surely would’ve done enough eye movement to out-rapid the REM. nothing was shifting. the rings were still there, the hotel room was still around you, and finn was still in bed next to you. 

you shook him lightly. “finn. finn, wake up.”

finn rolled onto his back slowly, his limbs heavy from sleep. he carded a hand through his hair. normally, you would’ve grown heart eyes at that, but you had a way more important objective literally on both of your hands.

“what..” his voice slurred. “why are you in my bed?”

“i think we got married,” you said.

you dangled your ring in front of finn before he could react. he barely gave you time to move your hand before he flung his own right hand up to his face and flicked it forward like an old man trying to read the paper.

“how the fuck did this happen?”

he glared at you like you were the one at fault, a kind he hadn’t given you since before the two of you became actual friends. you crossed your arms over your sunken stomach.

“i don’t know.”

finn’s face softened. “sorry. i didn’t.. i meant it more towards myself.”

keeping his gaze averted from you, he approached the dresser to lean against it. you relaxed your arms. finn hadn’t scared you like that in a while, and you hoped he wouldn’t ever again. in his hand was the picture the wedding venue had provided you two with. having not seen it—while sober, at least—his reaction would be the blueprint to yours. 

“do you remember anything that happened last night?” he had a hint of a smile on his face.

your body softened. “no, but i assume we did that thing where we got drunk and married.”

finn clenched his jaw. even in the sunlight pouring in from the window, the indent it’d created was still a painful reminder of every other time you’d seen that expression on his face. he set the picture on the dresser behind him. the silence of the room thickened beyond noise, your skin falling clammy.

“i don’t know how i’m going to explain this to gwen. with my dad and all.” he said.

being hungover and a newlywed, it took your mind a few seconds longer to connect the dots. you finally remembered finn’s father and all of the stories he’d told you about him. he was an alcoholic, an abusive one at that, and finn had emphasized that he didn’t want to follow in his footsteps. he wanted to be a role model for his younger sister. there was no phrase of comfort you could say that he hadn’t already heard, so you walked to stand next to him.

finn stared down at his feet. you tried to think of anything you could possibly do to make it somewhat better. when one idea came to mind, you went with it. 

“it.. it was my suggestion,” you admitted in what you hoped was a non-obvious-lie voice.

“i think i suggested we drink.” finn mumbled.

“but i suggested we get drunk, and i suggested we get married.”

while you genuinely had no recollection of anything that night, you didn’t entirely put any of that past yourself. you’d had a crush on finn for a few months at that point. it was small enough for you to act normal around him when you were sober, but could’ve easily been too big for alcohol to mask.

you stood up from the dresser. finn’s eyes followed your movements as they usually did, then looked into yours. the darkness in them was basically a truth serum.

“i’m really sorry. i promise i will explain all of this to gwen. i’ll.. i’ll say i was the drunk one and dragged you into this,” you said.

finn kept his jaw clenched. the silence seemed like way too good of an opportunity not to fill. you placed a hand on the dresser to support your weight before speaking.

“i’m about to make this moment so much worse.” you warned. “and i’m really sorry.”

he sighed. “can’t really do that.”

“i have a crush on you.” you forced the words out of your mouth before you could think. “and i guess i just.. lost control.”

the fabric of the carpeting below your feet had never looked more interesting in your life. you started to wonder what the exact name of each color was. where did each string come from? could they pull you out of this situation? could they tie you to the floor so finn could leave and never have to see you again?

in your peripheral, finn was staring at you like his best friend—now turned spouse—just randomly told him they had a crush on him.

“actually?” his tone was unreadable.

“yeah.”

he stayed frozen for a moment. you squeezed your eyes shut so hard that fireworks burst behind them. finn shuffled, pulling something from the dresser behind him. 

“i like you too. i think it’s made pretty obvious in this picture,” he said.

you opened your eyes and immediately took the photo in your fingers. there, in front of a minister dressed like elvis, was you and finn embracing each other as you exchanged vows. you were both wearing the outfits you’d drank, apparently gotten married, and fallen asleep in—him in a white t-shirt and jeans, you in a dressier outfit you’d insisted on bringing to go out in vegas. you both had huge, dazed smiles on your faces. it was like a scene pulled straight out of a romance movie.

you looked up from the photo at finn. your stomach filled with butterflies. sneaking a glance to his lips, the way they felt to kiss was one you recognized but didn’t remember experiencing, like a familiar daydream.

“it kinda sucks that our first kiss happened when we were both drunk.” you said, setting the picture back down. “we should make up for it.”

finn furrowed his eyebrows. “make up for it how?”

you flicked a more obvious glance down to his lips. finn blinked but eventually took the hint to lean in. just when you could feel his breath fanning on your skin, he paused, looking you in the eyes. you nodded in encouragement.

finn finally kissed you. only a few seconds of hesitant kissing passed before he brought his hand to keep your face in place. his grip was tight but secure, like how you’d imagine he’d grab your hand. your wedding kiss hadn’t been pictured, yet if that was what it was like, part of you was tempted to keep that ring on your finger forever. you smiled against his lips at the idea of the memory.

taking that as a signal for who knows what, finn pulled you off from the dresser by your waist, adjusting so your hearts were flush against each other. you instinctively placed your arms around his neck. somehow, through all of the movement, you two managed to keep your lips together. as the kiss progressed, the muscles that held you upright were slowly melting at his touch. the lightness started to spread to your chest. you reluctantly pulled away.

“hold on. i’m not used to kissing like that.” you took one of your hands from his neck, clutching your chest.

both of you laughed breathily. finn’s arms relaxed around you. you leaned your head on his shoulder. even from down there, you could feel the heat radiating from his face.

“finn blake blushing?” you hiked your eyebrows.

“i’m literally your husband.” he said through a smile that suited him better than anything.

you closed your eyes where you stood. finn’s chest suddenly seemed like the best pillow ever. it was warm, had a cotton casing—

“we both need breakfast.” finn broke the silence.

in your hand was a drinks menu. each of the names promised that the drinks were all paradise in a tiki-shaped glass. you’d set your eye on the “guava’s passion.” with a pleasant mixture of guava, passionfruit, light rum, and cream, you knew it’d be a safe choice. you slid the menu across the table to finn.

finn was scanning the bar around him, his hands clasped on the table. he didn’t seem to have his eyes set on anyone or anything in particular—including you. when the menu reached him, he averted his attention from the search. only to set it down as quickly as he picked it up.

“i don’t think i’ll drink tonight.” he said.

it was then that you’d remembered his history. you bit your inner lip, feeling like an idiot for suggesting the two of you drink in the first place. before you could offer any words of sympathy, a woman who had to be a waitress based on the tikiful outfit alone stopped in front of your table. 

“welcome to cheeky tiki! i’m kiki.”

kiki let a beat of silence pass as she waited for you two to laugh. you couldn’t help but smile, even smally.

“yes. kiki who works at cheeky tiki. i know.” she sighed. “alright, what can i get you two?”

you ordered first, knowing finn wouldn’t. “i’ll take a guava’s passion, please.”

“great choice.” she turned to finn. “and for you?” 

finn was fidgeting lightly with his thumbs—being the only moveable part of his hands. at first, you thought he didn’t hear kiki, but he picked his head up and proved you wrong.

“i’ll have what they’re having.”

you raised your eyebrows. even after kiki left for the kitchen, you and finn both refused to break the silence. part of you was intrigued to see how long he’d hold it. but, after a minute, you gave up, knowing he would’ve held it forever. 

“i thought you said you weren’t drinking tonight.” you said.

he shrugged. “i changed my mind.”

you wanted to pry about it. instead, you settled it with a nod. you placed your face in your hand as you waited. the tropical music booming from the dj booth sandwiched between two wooden tiki faces was enough noise for you to feel comfortable staying silent. at least until the drinks arrived.

←•🎰•→ 

towards the end of your second round, the passionfruit in your drink was living up to its name. each question, each moment of eye contact, and each smile felt like they were something more than just friendly, like they actually had potential to lead somewhere for once. it was a kind of hope you knew would abandon you the next morning.

your mind kept trying to wander to the future. the future where finn was just your best friend who you had to act like you didn’t have a crush on, and the only finn you’d know after this trip. thankfully, finn smiled enough to pull you right back to the present each time. at least you and finn could smile as much as you wanted and wake up the next morning having it mean nothing. 

“what are we even going to do with all of the money?” finn asked.

you shrugged. winning $1000 and a free trip to vegas from a radio station almost felt too good to be true. why they gave the prizes to two eighteen year olds was a mystery—because what can you do in vegas under the age of 21—but, like most things with finn, it was a phone call that determined the fate.

“no idea.”

you peered out the window to the streets. the sun was far below the horizon, the sky a dark sapphire. all of the neon signs hanging from restaurant and shop windows provided more light than daytime could. everything was open, even at 11 at night. you had plenty of outlets for your drunk stupidity.

“enlighten me, if you had $1000, what would you do?” you tilted your head, the alcohol making such a stupid question seem like a perfectly normal thing to ask.

finn held your eyes, the usual darkness in his washed away by the pink and orange of the tiki bar. you wished you could keep the two of you there for eternity.

“not blow it all here.” he said, dragging it for sarcastic effect.

“that’s exactly what i was afraid of you saying.”

you both laughed. finn really was a different person under the influence—of tiki alcohol, at least. when the laughter ended, instead of his face falling, a small smile came onto it. your stomach sunk, and you hoped your face didn’t, too. was he..

“do you want to get out of here?” he asked and confirmed your suspicions.

you mock reached out your now clammy hand over the table. “lead the way.”

the dance floor had filled to the brim since you’d got in. finn put his hand on the small of your back to lead you through the crowd. part of you felt horrible. as you made your way past everyone, you felt like they could see right through you. your stomach spasmed.

back onto the neon-lit streets you were. finn hadn’t yet removed the hand from your back. even without anyone looking at you, you couldn’t shake the slimey feeling coating your bones.

“you know we’re outside now, right?” you asked, smiling in a way that you hoped softened your words.

“yeah.”

finn promptly removed his hand from your back. he cleared his throat and started heading forward.

“let’s take a walk.” he said, his voice losing all of the influence it’d fallen under from absorbing the alcohol.

“uh, okay.” you sobered, too.

for a mile in drunk distance, the walk was silent. finn had both of his hands in his jean pockets. he hadn’t spared you a single glance. it was like he was back to his sober self. but the rum had just started to kick in, right? it couldn’t have faded that soon, right?

you two had approached the part of the street that was lined with chapels. all of them had ‘24 hour’ signs and other signs that made marriage seem like the easiest thing in the world. one that caught your eye specifically was the elvis chapel. you gasped, holding out your hand to stop you both.

“that’s the elvis chapel.” you turned to him. “the fucking elvis chapel! i’ve wanted to see that for so long.”

finn looked between your eyes as if he were searching for something on your face.

“lead the way.” he said, his voice still flat.

you two crossed the street with the other drunk jaywalkers. the chapel was even more surreal up close. you could hear elvis music playing from the overhead speakers. the ‘elvis weddings’ sign had a neon line-art elvis on it. as you took it all in, someone shuffling through their pockets interrupted your attention.

“finn...”

finn was shuffling through his cash. he parted his lips to speak, but closed them again. you stood against the chapel wall in hopes that it’d keep you from passing out in the silence. he wasn’t implying what you thought he was, right? as if to spite you, he took out a few dollar bills. a hundred, to be exact.

“we have nothing else to spend the money on.” he said, like you had any idea what narrowed down your options in the first place.

you furrowed your eyebrows. “what on earth are you trying to say?”

he nodded up at the ‘24 hours’ sign.

“finn. surely you aren’t—”

“not..” when you didn’t catch on, he sighed. “as friends. for memory sake.”

something in those words seemed strained, which you couldn’t figure out whether or not you liked.

“we..” you sputtered. “look at our outfits.”

“it’s vegas.”

you stared at him wide-eyed. finn, out of everyone you knew, saying ‘it’s vegas?’ even though he looked the same, something had to be possessing him, something that went past the influence of alcohol. you couldn’t help but smile to spite yourself.

“okay. i.. fine.”

on the window was a printed paper saying ‘MARRIAGE BUREAU' THAT WAY’ with a sign pointing left. under it, in smaller letters, was ‘LICENSE COST: $100.’ finn started walking before you could even think about it. mindlessly, you followed. the night couldn’t get any weirder.

←•🎰•→ 

being drunk in a government building, about to sign a legally binding contract sobered you quicker than vomiting would. the woman working the place had seen more than enough drunk vegas couples to not bat an eye at you both, despite your outfits and ages. she looked less than thrilled to have to write an underage drinking report, too, so you made it out unscathed.

you two dashed back to the chapel. once again, a miracle that you’d made it back unscathed, being drunk and on the lower half of your haze. finn held the door open for you to walk in. the chapel’s reception had flowers everywhere and a wall full of pictures of other couples. the receptionist smiled at you both.

“welcome lovebirds.” he winked. “what can i help you with?”

“we’d like to get married.” you set the license on the desk.

the receptionist nodded and handed you both a few pieces of paperwork to respectively fill out. after completing them and submitting the payment, you and finn still had yet to look at each other.

“we have a small yet memorable selection of rings in our gift shop over there.” he nodded to a curtained-off room. “and you will be needing a witness. i can do that for an extra fee of minimum wage. or, you can get a stranger. that’s always a fun one for couples and strangers alike.”

you and finn finally broke your eye contact strike.

“should we divide and conquer?” you asked.

“you trust me to pick out a ring?”

“i trust you to be my husband. so, yeah. you trust me to pick out a witness?”

finn smiled in a way that made you regret every moment of doubt you’d experienced that night. “of course.”

←•🎰•→

the vegas streets were intimidating enough with finn, but even worse when you were alone. there was no one to share the burden of this decision with you. it was just you and your stupidity.

you leaned against the white brick wall of the chapel. the windows were covered with lacy white curtains that looked like they could’ve belonged on the skirt of a wedding dress. you had no idea how you were going to manage to attract someone to witness your wedding when you were dressed in clubbing, not marriage, attire.

“want to witness my wedding for free?” you asked one couple, but they snarled in response.

“wedding? for free? can you witness it?” you asked a group of friends who just laughed.

you exhausted all of the ways of asking ‘can you witness my wedding for free?’ or so you thought. an older woman came walking by. she seemed aimless, as if she were relying on the rays bouncing from the sequins of her dress to get her to her destination.

“ma’am, would you be willing to witness my husband and i’s wedding for free?”

she stopped. by the way she brought her finger to her chin to think, you had a strong feeling she’d say no. somehow, hearing no from her would’ve been the most painful of the night. you were so tired of sitting in uncertain silence by that point that you just accepted the worst possibility.

“sure.” she said.

a weight was released from your entire body. “thank you so much!”

you held the door for her. finn was still in the ring shop. he seemed to be taking his duty of the night a lot more serious than you were. ignoring the implications of that, you brought the woman into the chapel. with white wooden pews, pink carpeting, and light blue velvet walls, it felt like a joke.

“drunk wedding?” she smiled knowingly.

“yeah.” you said.

“who is he to you? stranger?”

“my best friend.” you said, and she laughed. “i know. i know. i just..”

you looked down to kick your feet idly. “i really like him. it wasn’t my idea, though, but i did let it happen.”

the woman gasped. “it was his idea? honey, he likes you.” she winked.

before you could process that, you heard finn’s muffled voice in the chapel lobby. you asked one last question: “what’s your name?”

“hope.”

never in your life had you had to suppress the word ‘what?’ harder. you swallowed it down and flattened your lips.

“thank you for being here, hope.” you managed.

trying to forget all about that, you speed-walked out to the lobby. you’d never been more thankful for finn not being the type to talk about anything.

“he needs your ring size.” he said, nodding to a man holding a piece of plastic with a various sized holes in it, each one with a number on top. 

←•🎰•→ 

you had no idea how you found your arm hooked to the one of an elvis impersonator’s, or how you’d realize the memory to yourself in the morning. in his free hand was a microphone. he sang a strikingly accurate cover of “Can’t Help Falling in Love” as he walked you down the aisle. finn waited near the front of the chapel. even he was having trouble not laughing.

 when you arrived at the front, elvis walked to stand between the two of you.

“thank you, thank you very much,” the man said, sounding just like elvis. “for being here tonight.”

“tonight, we celebrate the wedding of y/n and finn. repeat after me, you two.”

you took finn’s hands in your own on instinct. what else could you do when reading your vows?

“the lord can give, and the lord can take away.”

“the lord can give, and the lord can take away.” you two said in tandem.

“in reference to our love, nothing can get in the way.”

“in reference to our love, nothing can get in the way.”

 elvis was handed two ring boxes that matched the light blue velvet walls. he slid the gem-less silver band onto finn’s ring finger. you took a hitched breath. the other box slowly came open, like trying to open a clam. a big sapphire gem left the shadow of the lid and came out into the yellow light of the chapel.

elvis slid the ring onto your finger. the cold metal warmed on your clammy palms. a camera snapped. the flash casted over the ring as you stared down at it. hundreds of questions flurried in your mind. so much so that the world around you felt like it was miles away.

“y/n. do you take finn to be your husband?”

you jolted out of your thoughts. “i do.”

those words had way less weight than you ever expected them to have.

“finn. do you take y/n to be your spouse?”

“i do.” he said.

your organs began to disintegrate into a soft version of pins-and-needles. finn was right in front of you. his hands were in yours. you both had matching rings, and you’d just agreed to marry each other. part of you wanted to run for a reason you couldn’t quite explain.

“okey dokey. less conversation, more action. you may now kiss.”

the music started right up again and your witness, hope, clapped, but the sudden feeling of finn’s lips against yours tuned all of that out completely. it felt so personal despite the fact that your eyes were closed. you hugged your arms around his neck, hoping for any confirmation that this was real. he put his on your waist. the two of you kissed long enough for the song to switch. to everyone’s surprise, you ended up being the one to pull away.

“until we meet again, may god bless you both as he blessed me.” elvis said as soon as the two of you pulled apart.