11:47 PM, somewhere off the interstate.

The courthouse is long behind you now, but neither of you went home. Nope. Because what screams “just married” louder than pulling up to a neon-lit gas station in a tux and ball gown like you’re about to rob the place… for snacks?

Leon parks crooked outside the 24-hour gas stop, headlights still on. Inside, a teenager at the counter sees you two step out of the car and freezes like it’s a scene from a romcom-meets-crime-drama. You’re in full glam: dress train sweeping the asphalt, heels clicking like you own the joint. Leon’s tux is wrinkled, his hair is a mess, and his wedding band glints every time he pushes it back into place.

You throw open the glass door like it’s a dramatic entrance in a soap opera.

Ding.

“You guys have Red Vines?” Leon asks like this is a normal thing to ask while dressed like a prom king.

The cashier doesn’t answer. They just blink like they’re still processing the ball gown, the tux, the fact that this is real life.

You whisper to Leon, “He thinks we’re running from the altar.”

Leon smirks, grabbing a basket. “Good. Let him.”

The two of you raid the aisles like it’s a honeymoon scavenger hunt. He grabs a blue Gatorade, a fistful of chocolate bars, and sour gummies. You load up with hot Cheetos, pickle chips, and a can of Monster just to feel something.

“You’re really getting that?” you ask, pointing at the beef jerky stick he holds.

Leon raises an eyebrow. “We got married on a receipt. Let me live.”

You’re both whisper-laughing in the candy aisle like teenagers. He leans over to kiss your temple while holding a pack of gum like it’s a bouquet. “Can’t believe you married me.”

You bump his shoulder. “Can’t believe you cried.”

“You promised you wouldn’t bring that up,” he says dramatically, tossing a protein bar in the basket like he’s trying to distract you.

Eventually, you roll up to the counter with a haul that screams “honeymoon of champions.” The cashier finally finds his voice.

“…Congrats, I guess?”

Leon nods like a proud dad. “Got hitched thirty-seven minutes ago.”

You flash the ring. “We’re celebrating.”

“In a gas station?”

Leon slides a twenty across the counter. “Love’s expensive.”

Back in the car, you’re both laughing, digging into snacks, and blasting music like it’s a getaway car. Your dress is half bunched up on the passenger side. His tie’s in your lap. Your vows are still tucked in the glove box, stained with energy drink now.

You tilt your head toward him, mouth full of sour candy. “Best honeymoon ever?”

Leon glances at you like he’s never been more sure. “Only one I’ll ever need.”