Do you?
She was radiant - a flowing white dress, and holding the deepest red roses I'd ever seen. Tradition, and the gentle lilt of Pachabel, were thrown to the wind; we locked eyes from opposite ends of the aisle, and she came to meet me in a barely-suppressed run. Her mother tried but ultimately failed to keep up.
When matter is dense enough, it folds in on itself, warping the fabric of reality around it, keeping light as its tormented captive. My attention fell into the singularity of her beauty - nothing existed outside of her face, that dress, the smile she'd chosen to bless me with. Ceremony? What ceremony? I heard nothing until the minister asked the ominous question.
M looked at me, and as she opened her mouth to speak, I realized I was holding my breath.