I had so much fun writing this one 
Questionable
I’d never thought I would see his face again, or at least in the same way. The sheen of silver stained with a fresh fiery crimson, his face twisted into a mix of anger, guilt, perhaps even regret. The excruciating sensation of cold metal being forced in and out of my side. The way the room started to spin. They had all been burned deep within the reservoirs of memory, I had supposed that they would resurface.
Yet here we were, sitting together amidst festivities, each daring the other to say a word. I resisted the urge to stare at him, the childlike face I once knew was gone replaced by sharp edges. It unnerved me. After some short years he’s come back a completely different person than before.
I quickly settled on looking at my steak, its outside was cooked to perfection. I could taste the smoky residue, foreign spices dancing on my tongue. The chef’s dish was superb. Only the finest for my wedding
Searching for some other way to avoid conversation, I brought the chilled wine to my lips. The smell was repulsive and I was never a good drinker, however, I felt the need to make this night as forgettable as possible. The chorus of glasses clinking and small murmuring faded into the background. It was only me, stuck in an overly extravagant dress, and the clear burning liquid that slid down my throat.
”You might want to slow your pace.” Of course he had to ruin my moment of tranquility. I turn towards him, he’s laying his head in one hand. He’s amused: his lips are lifted up in a way that was rather attractive. My eyes blur. Although I was a lightweight I assumed this wasn’t due to alcohol, more so an escape. A way to look at him and play the unintimidated without actually seeing him. He grasps his own glass lightly, eyeing me as he brings it to his lips. ”Wouldn’t want an accident?”
The way he says it annoys me to no end. No accident? He of all people shouldn’t speak those words. Unwillingly my cheeks heat up, the alcohol seeping into my system. He smirks and laughs. Whether it be from my unvented frustration about the affair, I snap. ”What lunacy is this? You would revel in the case of an accident!”
He stared deep into the wine glass, perhaps contemplating whether to laugh at me or stab me again. Yet as I stare into his dark eyes, I see no amusement, only some reminisce of pain. Thankfully, he settled on the former. A harsh mocking laugh made his chest move up and down in unidentifiable patterns, in a brief moment of sobriety I’m able to distinguish normal and abnormal pretentious alpha men. He is certainly very enchanting in a sick way, I find myself absorbed in him, yet completely disgusted. ”You think I gallivanted about after that night? That your face appears normal to me? That I’m unaffected? I don’t see you. I see a splatter of blood until it grows and covers you entirely!”
That sends us back into silence, and in the moment I’m grateful for it. My nostrils flare indignantly and my face feels like lava. Then at the most prestigious event of my life, as the dinner is being taken away and the guests attention is on us, the lovely bride and groom, I snort. I couldn’t help it! The sheer absurdity of this! The dress! The conversations! And, oh! That groom!
I turn to the man who nearly killed me, enjoying every inch of his confusion, and clink our glasses together. “To my deathly charming husband!” They all laugh and smile, lifting glasses left and right, all the while missing the final part of the toast. ”To whoever survives long enough to kill.” He lifts his glass up and tilts it, a cryptic smile on his face as I mirror his actions.