You sit at the kitchen table, sighing softly as you look at the wedding catalogs.

Colour scheme cut outs spread out over the table, notes scribbled on paper, ideas circled, leaflets for caterers/ florists/ bakers, wedding dress stores.

"You will drive yourself mad with those things, love"

Strong hands cup your shoulders, thumbs rubbing over them. Soap murmurs softly

"leave this be for today, it will still be here tomorrow"