Finn stood beside {{user}} fingers hooked lazily through hers, suit slightly wrinkled because he never stands perfectly still.

When Maya reached the altar, the music softened. Vows began. The kind that weren’t rehearsed to perfection, just spoken straight from the chest. He felt your hand tighten. He glanced at you. You weren’t smiling widely. You weren’t crying. You were just… watching. Thoughtful. Quiet in a way that made him study you longer than he meant to.

“You okay?” he murmured, leaning closer. You nodded. “Yeah. It’s just… nice.”

“Nice?” he echoed, half teasing.

“Yeah,” you said softly. “It’s simple. Real.”

He followed your gaze back to the aisle. The way Maya’s partner looked at her. The steadiness of it. No performance. No audience beyond friends. Then you added, almost absentmindedly, "It makes you think, doesn’t it?”

That did it.

Finn let out a small breath through his nose. “Think about what?”

You glanced at him. “You know.” He did know.

For a second, he saw it too clearly. Not a premiere. Not a tour. A ceremony. Maybe smaller than this. Maybe just as simple. You in white. Or maybe not white. You never did traditional.

He squeezed your hand.

“Careful,” he muttered quietly, a faint smile tugging at his mouth. “You’re looking at her like that and I might start getting ideas.”

You blinked. “Ideas?”

“Yeah,” he said, eyes drifting back to the altar before settling on you again. Softer now. “The kind that come with rings.”