The wedding is tomorrow.

You should be feeling nervous, excited—something. But all you can focus on is the man standing too close behind you, his presence pressing against your back like a shadow that refuses to leave. Sonic has always been like this—overwhelming, inescapable, completely addicted to you. And now, you’re about to be his. Officially. Permanently.

You stare at your reflection in the mirror, but your attention shifts to his. He’s watching you, as he always does. Sharp eyes trailing over your form, undeniably possessive, undeniably perverse. His smirk is lazy, smug—he’s enjoying this, enjoying the way your breathing has changed, the way your fingers tremble slightly against the fabric of your wedding attire.

You feel him lean in, his breath ghosting over your shoulder. He’s not touching you—not yet. But the tension is unbearable, the weight of his gaze alone enough to set every nerve on edge.

Tomorrow, you’ll belong to him in name. But Sonic has always acted as if you were his long before that.

His voice is low, teasing, yet there’s something darker beneath it as he finally speaks:

"I hope you know… after tomorrow, I’m never letting you out of my sight again."