It started as a joke. Jordan got dramatic over a stolen hoodie, dropped to one knee with a ring pop, and asked Arya to marry him. She said yes without blinking.

By the time they realised neither of them was backing down, the others had already taken it too far. Lights were strung. An arch was dragged out of storage. Someone made playlists. Someone else ordered cake. And by evening, they had a wedding.

A fake one. Probably.

Jordan stood stiffly while Naomi tugged at the collar of his jacket, her brow furrowed in concentration.

"You're a menace even when you're standing still," she muttered, giving the lapels a sharp tug.

"Hold still or I'll make it worse," Declan said from the side, arms crossed but a rare smirk curving his mouth.

Bennett, already dressed in all black with the faintest glint of mischief behind his unreadable expression, finished folding the pocket square before stepping back to survey him. "You actually look—" he paused, searching for a word as though it physically hurt him to admit it, "—decent."

Jordan grinned, bouncing slightly on his heels. "You guys are just proud I haven't managed to catch fire yet."

"There's still time," Naomi said dryly, smoothing one last wrinkle before stepping aside.

Bennett clapped a steady hand on Jordan's shoulder. "Try not to combust before she gets here."

Outside, the backyard glowed under tangled fairy lights. The arch, wrapped in ivy and strung lights, cast a warm halo over the stone patio. As Jordan stepped into place, he caught sight of Davina standing just off to the side, her violin tucked beneath her chin.

The violin looked brand new, gleaming beneath the lights like it had been waiting for this moment. Davina closed her eyes as she played, the sound aching and sweet, so beautiful it made the world slow down.

Bennett, who had taken his place under the arch, forgot himself for a moment, his gaze snagging on her with something almost painfully unguarded before he blinked and straightened, clearing his throat.

The procession began.

First came Daphne and Tyler, walking side by side with an effortless grace that spoke of long, tangled lifetimes. Their hands brushed once, an old habit neither bothered to hide and they smiled, small and secretive.

Next, Dominic and Naomi moved down the aisle, their steps matching without effort, a quiet understanding flowing between them. Dominic's hand hovered at the small of Naomi's back, like he wanted to steady her but knew she didn't need it.

Then Declan and Tessa, of all people, came down the path, no glares, no jabs, just a rare, almost sacred truce. Tessa's fingers curled lightly around Declan's arm, and he, for once, didn't look like he wanted to hit someone.

And then—

Sky stood beside Arya at the edge of the path.

He was dressed to the nines: tailored suit, polished shoes, tie perfectly knotted. But when he turned to Arya, there was nothing polished about the look in his eyes. Just something raw, something real.

"If you'll have me," Sky said, voice low and raw, "I'll walk you down the aisle at your real wedding someday. Not just this."

Arya's throat tightened. She squeezed his arm, grounding herself.

"I'd be honoured," she whispered back.

Sky swallowed, then tucked her hand into the crook of his elbow. The music swelled, Davina shifting to a soft, lilting melody and they started forward.

Jordan's heart stopped.

Arya's dress wasn't meant to be a wedding dress, it was hers, something she'd had tucked away but under the lights, flowing white and clinging soft against her frame, she looked luminous. Like she belonged to every dream he hadn't dared put into words.

Jordan forgot to breathe.

Sky gave her hand one last squeeze at the end of the aisle, then stepped back to stand with the others. Arya took one step closer, eyes locked on Jordan's, and the world, for a beat, narrowed down to just them.

Bennett cleared his throat, drawing a ripple of low laughter through the gathering.

"We are gathered here today," Bennett said, voice steady but touched with dry humour, "to witness something that probably should've happened a long time ago."

More laughter, Jordan cracked a grin, and Arya rolled her eyes fondly.

Bennett continued. "Some people fall in love loudly. Some fall quietly. These two? They crashed headfirst into it, dragging the rest of us along for the ride."

Jordan turned fully toward Arya, took her hands in his, and without thinking, without planning, he started.

"I don't know a lot about fate," Jordan said, voice rougher than he meant it to be, "but I know this: even if I lost all my senses, even if the whole world blurred and spun, I would still find you in a crowd. I would always find you."

Arya's fingers tightened around his.

"My turn?" she whispered, smiling through something too big for words.

Jordan nodded, unable to speak.

Arya drew in a breath. "I used to think love was something you earned. Something you had to be perfect for. But you—" her voice broke slightly, and she laughed it off "you never asked me to be anything but myself. You saw me before I even knew who I was. And I see you, Jordan. Always."

The backyard fell so still it might've been a dream.

Bennett waited a beat, then lifted his hand. "By the imaginary power vested in me, I now pronounce you fake husband and wife. Jordan, if you don't kiss her, Sky is going to start throwing things."

Sky, from behind, added helpfully, "I'll also beat you within an inch of your life."

Jordan laughed, the sound ragged, and pulled Arya in.

The kiss was messy and real and perfect, Arya rising on her toes, Jordan cupping her face like he was afraid she'd disappear, the two of them laughing against each other's mouths.

Behind them, someone whooped. Daphne and Tyler threw confetti. Dominic caught Naomi's hand without thinking. Declan and Tessa bumped shoulders, grinning reluctantly. Sky just shook his head, grumbling about emotional damage.

When Jordan finally pulled back, forehead pressed to Arya's, he whispered, just for her:

"Real or not... you're stuck with me now."

Arya smiled, tears shining, and whispered back:

"Good."

⸻

The backyard had shifted again.

The fairy lights stayed on, glowing gold now as night crept in. Long tables were pulled together on the lawn, mismatched chairs stolen from every corner of the house. Someone lit too many candles. Someone else, probably Tyler, dumped snacks into a crystal bowl like it counted as elegant.

Arya was still in her white dress, Jordan in his slightly wrinkled jacket. He hadn't let go of her hand since the kiss. Every now and then, he'd glance at her like he still wasn't convinced she was real. She'd catch him, smirk, and squeeze his fingers.

Davina had tucked her violin away and sat beside Bennett, stealing fries off his plate. Dominic and Naomi leaned into one another as they ate, their conversation low and constant. Declan and Tessa argued over which dessert was best. Daphne teased Tyler for eating three pieces of cake. It was warm. Loud. Gloriously unfiltered.

Sky stood slowly, quieting the table with a single raised glass.

His suit jacket was undone now, tie loosened, hair slightly tousled from dancing with everyone and arguing about music. But when he looked around the table at each of them his expression sobered into something real.

"I'm not sentimental," he said. Which, from Sky, meant: this is going to wreck you.

Everyone stilled.

"I've known most of you since I was a kid. Some of you showed up late but still manage to own every damn room. And somehow, we all ended up here." He looked at Arya and Jordan, a tiny smile tugging at his lips. "You two... you're chaos incarnate. It should not work. And yet, it does."

Laughter rippled through the table, Jordan squeezed Arya's hand tighter.

Sky's gaze swept across the faces around him. "We've all had to be something. The responsible one. The cold one. The angry one. The clever one. The funny one. The quiet one. We picked armour and wore it like skin. But sometimes, when no one's looking, that armour cracks."

He paused. And for a breath, no one moved.

"So," he said, voice quieter now, but sharp as a spark in the dark, "here's to the kids who hide their brilliance behind chaos. The ones who think they have to joke to be wanted. The ones who burn bright when they think no one's watching."

Sky raised his glass, his eyes locked on Jordan and Arya. Then the rest of them.

"Someone sees you."

Silence. Then the clink of glass after glass, a chorus of soft voices echoing, To the kids who hide their brilliance behind chaos.

Arya didn't say anything. Just turned to Jordan and pressed her lips to his knuckles.

He smiled, like he might shatter from it. And in the golden light of fairy bulbs and candlefire, surrounded by people who knew their worst and loved them anyway, they stayed exactly where they belonged.

Home.

The End.

For Now.