Coming Up For Air | ✓

14 | the wedding reception

Singing softly under her breath, Stella leans close to the bathroom mirror and lets her lips fall into a slight pout as she carefully applies another layer of her coral lipstick.

She smudges her pinky over her lip, pulling back just an inch as her gaze flickers over her reflection. The bronze highlighted sheen lingering along her sun freckles, the brown café-au-lait birthmark she's left untouched.

Taking another few steps back, she adjusts one of the hairpins holding her voluminous ponytail in place, cheeks sucked in as she regards herself in the mirror.

The pale blue midi-dress is new. And if it hadn't been for Avery more or less forcing it into her hands while taking her for a stroll on the town yesterday, she probably would have never noticed it. Yet here she is, palms smoothed over the shimmery satin fabric as she twists before the mirror.

As there's a soft tap on the ajar door, she pauses, glancing over her shoulder just as Angelina peers her head through the crack. In an instant, the woman's smile softens, nose scrunching up as if she's making an effort of holding back tears. Stella would know, considering she's the one who's been sat next to a blubbering Angelina through not one but two of Faye's graduation ceremonies. Not to speak of the amount of tissue boxes she went through during Stella's mothers' garden wedding ten summers ago.

Now, Angelina steps into the room—the cork soles of her sandals an echo against the beige-brown tiled floor, head slanted to the side as her bottom lip wobbles ever so slightly. "Look at you!"

Stella's lips tug up in a small smile, fingers fidgeting with another of the hairpins as she meets Angelina's gaze through the reflection of the mirror. "It's not too much?"

"No, it's perfect," Angelina's gold bracelet glimmers underneath the spotlights of the mirror as she comes to Stella's side, reaching up to take the hairpin out of her hand. "Here: let me."

"Thanks."

Drawing in a deep breath through her nose, Stella's gaze flickers over her reflection again. It's been a long while since she's had to break out her makeup bag, but locking eyes with herself now, her lips slip into a small smile.

It only widens as Angelina lets her palms come to Stella's shoulders, leaning forward so that their heads are next to each other, catching her gaze through the mirror.

"Marvelously beautiful."

━ ♡♡♡ ━

A while later, surrounded by a cloud of her perfume—the peach notes tickling her nose—Stella swiftly weaves her way through the bottom floor of the house on a mission to pour a glass of water down her throat before they're supposed to leave for Avery and Ethan's 'wedding reception that isn't a wedding reception but not a regular party either'. Avery's phrasing, not Stella's.

She's in and out of the kitchen—its dark green cupboards fitting perfectly into the rest of the house's energy—in a heartbeat, wiping her thumb over a droplet of water in the corner of her mouth as she hurries back the same way she came.

While the lake house carries an impression of an airy atmosphere—with its open concept first floor and minimalistic interior in shades of beige, white and gray, the family's Acebridge home is another story.

Cozier. With smaller rooms replacing one another, having to slip through at least three to reach one's destination. Patterned rugs a contrast against dark wooden floors and decorative pillows lining every seated area. Leafy plants in all sizes carefully placed in just the right spots, creating the perfect scene of a cluttered, yet consciously so, home alongside the paintings and photographs hung on the walls.