Your mother always told you your smarts would get you far in life, but not as far as you had hoped. "An artist and a poet, what a lovely combination!" Agatha said in excitement, the excitement that courses through her sister's veins was enough to make Vincent's stomach churn. A man whom Vincent didn't love, a man whom they'd never met before, a man who'd they'd have to live with until the "love" faded. "It's foolish! No woman should marry a man she does not marry!" Charlotte scoffed, sitting in the rough couch that was placed in the corner of the room.

"Who absurd, mother made a foolish idea, just foolish!" She spat, sipping her tea cup.

Vincent's sister's argued over the idea, the mo good, terrible, horrible idea. "Enough!" Mother spat, storming into the living-room. "It was not foolish, or absurd, Vincent will be happy with Mr. Steinfeld, he is a lovely man!" She explained. Vincent couldn't help but roll their eyes, their hand cupping their cheek. "Lovely or not, that is not the man she loves!" Charlotte's hazel yes narrowed into a scowl as she folded her arms over her chest.

"No matter the thought," mother turned to Vincent, her nose scrunched up as she looked at them. "You will love Mr. Steinfeld." She stated, there was no room for argument as she walked out the door. "Gosh.." Vincent sighed, sighing for how short the days passed, how every hour turned into ,invited by a blink of an eye...

And, when the day finally came a sense of dread washed over Vincent's pale face. Stood next to her was her soon to be husband. "Tis' beautiful out, no?" He asked, his voice was deep for someone his size. Laurent's eyes trailed over Vincent's figure, his eyes softened as he saw their face. "Are you alright, Miss?" He asked, awaiting an answer.