Parisian Nights (Robsten) [Complete]

11| Wedding Pt.1

October 2016

For a few days Rob and Kristen had been in Paris. They had traveled separately on the way there, and on different dates. Making it less of a possibility, to the public eye, that they were indeed going to get married. They stayed together in their parisian bubble, almost cutting off every connections to the outside world. They liked to call this a pre-honeymoon period. Prior to arriving, Kristen was busy with NYFF and promoting her movies. As well as Rob. So it was a good way to not jump immediately into her wedding day, all stressed out and still in work mode. A break in between into her fiancé's arms was perfect.

The evening had ended and Kristen had just changed into her pajamas. She slipped out of the bathroom and crawled into bed, snuggling under the covers and waiting for Rob. He didn't disappoint.

Rob walked into the room and cuddled up to Kristen, gently wrapping his arms around her middle. She traced the lines of his chest and hummed quietly.

That's when she noticed the letters.

"What's on your shirt?" She asked softly, her fingernails gently tracing the outlines of each letter. M, R...

"Hmm?" Robert sighed. "What was that, love?"

"What does your shirt say?" Kristen asked again, her eyebrows pulling together as she thought. What word has a period in the middle of it?

"Mr.Cullen." Rob answered.

"What?" Kristen laughed. "It says what?"

"Mr.Cullen."

Kristen laughed again, continuing to trace the letters. It all made sense now. "Where on earth did you get that?"

"You have the Mrs.Cullen." Robert said simply.

That's when Kristen remembered. On the spree of twilight interviews, she actually had received a 'Mrs.Cullen' t shirt. And Rob had gotten the Mr.Cullen. "Oh, my god. You kept yours?"

"Of course I did! It showed I was married to you, didn't it?"

Kristen flushed and lightly smacked his chest. "You're ridiculous. I can't believe you kept that.

"Where's yours?"

Kristen wouldn't admit it, but she still had her shirt as well. She thought of the chest of drawers back in their house, where the shirt was tucked away. It was a reminder of her dream. Maybe not to be Mrs.Cullen, but for sure to be Mrs.Pattinson.

She smiled softly as she leaned her head on Rob's chest. That dream was, finally, coming true.

"Somewhere," she mused, unwilling to give up her little secret. "It's somewhere."

•

The night before their wedding, Kristen was pacing along the edges of her hotel room. Darkness had settled in Paris, but her brain was a smoking machine. She hated being alone in that room, alone with her thoughts and her fears. Tonight was supposed to be peaceful but unfortunately she was far from it. Tired of feeling like shit, she pulled her phone from her suitcase -where she hidden it to resist temptation- and turned it on. A minute passed before she was dialing his number, and her fingers were crossed to have him answering.

"Love." His husky voice made her weak instantly stopping her pacing. Sighing she let her forehead against the cold glass of the balcony door. "Are you okay?" With her silence she knew he worried and that wasn't what she wanted.

"Promise me." Taking a deep breath she started again. "Promise me nothing will never change. We'll never settle with a boring life and comfort. That you'll always challenge me with my stubbornness and criticise my lame jokes."

"I promise you, Kristen. I promise you that our life will be a long and amazing adventure." She smiled. She cried. She was happy. "We never settled for anything and getting married won't change a thing. I will always complain about your cold feet in bed." A hearty laugh sprang out of her chest. "I love your laugh."

"I'm sorry." Kristen whispered after a moment of silence.

"Don't. Do you want me to come over?"

"Would you?" She sat on her bed and looked at how smooth and lifeless it was. "You shouldn't."

"If you need me, I'll come." He stated simply and she was amazed by him.