I wait impatiently as the doors slowly open. My main thought is wondering what you're like, if you're as attractive as you seem when you speak, but behind that I'm thinking how I ever got myself into this mess. At the end of the day, I've agreed to marry a stranger.

But all that dissipates when I see you through the doors. You're even prettier than I imagined. A huge smile forms on my face as I take steps toward you. But your face is shocked, and you don't move. I frown a little. What's wrong? Is there something on my teeth? Is my zipper undone? What the f— oh wait a minute, Harry... you never actually mentioned you were that Harry, the famous Harry, because obviously they wouldn't let you. Fuck, it's no wonder you are freaking out.

I stand in front of you, trying to be as cautious as possible. I search your expression for any clues that might tell me what to do next. Shit, we're getting married, and you're not even moving.

"Hi... I'm Harry..." she already knows who you are, you fucking moron. "Well, I should have told you who I was, but... they wouldn't let me, so... surprise..." I laughed nervously. "You're very pretty by the way"