When you agreed to marry your fiancé, it was more out of obligation than anything. You’d been with them for years, and at this point it seemed like the next step. The sex was okay, and you loved them, but… was this really all you had to look forward to? You wanted fire. Passion. Intimacy that left you panting and craving it so badly that you’d beg for it.

You find yourself on the balcony of the wooden lodge you and your fiancé had rented out for the week. Your wedding party was currently downstairs, getting wasted in preparation for the week’s shenanigans leading up to your wedding. You just needed a moment. A moment to yourself to take a deep breath and accept that this is what you are willingly choosing.

“If you think any harder, steam’ll billow out ‘yer ears.” The rough timbre of your best friend brings a smile to your face. You turn to see Simon walking over, a cigarette already lit and perched between his lips. Simon had never been a big fan of your fiancé, but Simon was important in your life, so you made sure he was in the wedding party.

“Those’ll kill you.” You say, snatching it from between his lips and flicking it off the balcony. You smile at him. “You promised you’d quit.”

He shrugs. “Been stressed recently.” He says a bit tersely, making you furrow your eyebrows.