She sits, looking bored out of her mind as she fiddles with her thumbs. Her face has this as-if-this-day-couldn't-be-longer look. She's half attentive as she waits for instructions. Her dirty blonde hair drapes over her shoulders, it's free flowing with loose beach curls. When she blinks, her dark lashes kiss the lower ones before settling back in place. Sighing, her shoulders rise and drop heavily.

At the wedding instructor's mid-sentence, her eyes avert to the grand glass windows. There's nothing to see really, but she wants something to look out at rather than nothing.

She doesn't even notice him, too inattentive to care. Her boredom is understandable; after all, she's been here for going on five hours. The dame just stares with her head turned away from him.

"Marshall." His mother pokes him in the ribs. She says with her teeth clenched, "Pay attention!"

"Sorry," he says. His face flushes a smidgen as his eyes wander back to the woman rambling in front. When his mother isn't looking, he sneaks a chance glance, trying to catch the colour of her eyes. No such luck, for her head is still where it was a few seconds ago.

"After the music begins, we'll have the bridesmaids and groomsmen walk up the aisle, followed by the flower girl and ring bearer."

That does the trick. The girl's head swivels around to meet the maid of honour's face.

"Please pair up with the groomsmen, and I need the flower girl and ring bearer to get together."

She uncrosses her legs. Wow, those legs. The bootcut slim jeans hug her thighs like a vice as she stands. He gulps down his nerves as he too gets up.

His nerves battle whether to gather his courage and go up to her or play dumb and pretend he doesn't know what to do. Eventually, he finds his feet propelling him forward and his fingers extending out to tap her shoulder.

"Hi, um, I-I'm Marshall," his voice stumbles a little. Hazelnut brown eyes greet her gorgeous blue-greens, captivating him in her stare.

"Um." Clearing her throat, her eyes dart to their linked hands.

His face flushes deeply as he drops his gaze and her palm. "Oh! Sorry!" When his bravery returns, he looks up, seeing a giggle playing on her full lip-glossed lips.

"Hi, my name's Finc-. People call me, Fin." She rushes, just as quickly. "Let me guess, you're the ring bearer?" Her tone is soft and sweet with a slight rasp that makes his heart flutter with butterflies.

He says, "Uh, yeah. Flower girl?" His head dips knowingly.

She nods once as they take a seat in the chairs. Her leg folds over the other as her hands wrap together on her lap. Although her shoulders cave in, he smiles. She's a shy one.

He asks, "So, ah, who are you related to here?"

"Oh, my mum's over there with Joel, my younger brother. Jim's my older brother, though, he's not here. He graduated and is away in America for school."

"Really! What's his study?"

"Uh, he wants to be an engineer of some sort. I think an aerospace. It's kinda confusing."

"That sounds cool, where at?"

"Yale, he's the brains of the family." Her eyes roll up dramatically as her head bobs, confirming her words.

"Well, you look pretty smart to me." Now, it's her turn to flush.

With her eyes glued to the tiny scuff mark on the coffee coloured shoe, she tucks her hair behind her ear. "Thank you. How about you?"

"My mum's the one with blonde hair, and dad's over there. Arlene's my sister, she's only four years older than me."

"How old are you?"

"Eighteen."

"Really? Jim's a year older than your sister. I'm seventeen."

"Sweet."

"You must be from Nick's side of the family, correct?"

"Not exactly. Nick and I aren't blood-related, but Arlene's a close friend of his. Apparently, since he nor Lisa have brothers or any other male relatives suitable, Arlene offered up me," Marshall relays with a wry grin. "How about you? Are from Lisa's?"

"Lisa's technically my cousin, but I swear, we're practically twins. We're like two peas in a pod."

"That's really fantastic!"

"Yeah. Nick's a good guy too... I just wish that-" she stops.

Her frown worries Marshall as he too loses his grin. "What?"

"Well, don't tell anyone, promise?"

"Cross my heart."

"They're moving to the United States in a couple of months."

"Oh, that's a shame. Do you mind if I ask why?"

"Nick's stationed up at West Point, and Lisa can't bear to be that far away..."

After a moment of silence, Marshall sighs as he watches her solemn face. "Where's West Point?"

"California, just about the furthest away." Her voice cracks as does his heart.

He didn't notice the tears brimming in her eyes until she looks at him. Straight away, he wishes he could do something, say something to cheer her mood. Alas, nothing comes to mind. "I'm real sorry."

"It's not your doing."

"I just-"

"Everyone,"--the woman claps her hands--"may I have your attention, please. Now that we're all acquainted and know who's with who, let's begin the run through!"

The normal buzz elevates concurrently as people amble to their assigned stations.

Marshall waits until they're no longer within an earshot of others.

"Still, I'm sorry that she's moving away."

"Thanks."

xxx

Her breath tickles his ear as she sneaks up from behind. "So, Marshall, I see you've met Finch."

Despite her effort, Marshall doesn't flinch. "Finch?"

Her shoulder huffs. "Ugh! Geez, I swear you have the memory of a goldfish." Arlene's eyes roll as she folds her arms across her chest. "She's the flower girl."

"Oh, you mean Fin."

"Are you really asking me to spell that out?"

"No. So, what about her?"

She waits a beat. "Oh, never mind! You're completely hopeless!"

"Wait! Ar, what's that mean?"

"What do you think of her?"

"She's nice."

"Pff! Yeah, you talk for twenty minutes after rehearsal, and all you can say is 'she's nice'? Lord, you are a hopeless case!"

"She has dirty blonde hair and-"

"No shit, Sherlock! Next thing you're gonna tell me is she has blue eyes, a pink tee, and skinny jeans."

"No! I was gonna say she's seventeen, thank you very much."

"Ugh! Men. So clueless!" She storms off to her parents.

"You alright there?" Fin's voice trails beside him.

"Oh, hey. I thought you left?"

"Yeah, but I forgot my coat."

"Right."

"That was Arlene, correct?"

"Yeah."

"She's very pretty."

You are too, Marshall adds silently. "Oh, please don't tell her that! Her ego's already as big as an elephant!"

Finch giggles with a shake of her crown.

Honk! Honk!

"That's my mum, best not to keep her waiting. Bye, Marshall! I'll see you tomorrow!"

"Bye!"

"Marshall, Love, tomorrow's a big day, so let's not spoil our sleep!" His mother calls whilst hugging Arlene goodbye.

"Y-yeah sure."

Inside the car, he gazes out the window, Finch completely consumes his thoughts.

"Are you alright dear?"

Silence.

"Marshall?"

"Yes, Mum?"

"I asked if you're well?"

"Yes. I'm fine, why?"

"You're awfully and suspiciously quiet back there."

"Oh, uh, I'm just tired is all, but thanks."

"You sure it doesn't have to do with that young lady back there?" His father sneaks in.

"Dad!" His parents chuckle sympathetically. A moment of muteness threads in the car.

"So, what's her name?"

"Fin," He says as his eyes remain attached to the moon.

She had told him sometime during that night that she loved looking up at its light despite its craters. In very wise words, she spoke of how the moon was a symbol that even though it's rough on the surface, it gives pleasure to the world. Like people with scars, she compared it to.

Marshall's mum sighs exasperatedly as her eyes roll up with a trailing groan. "What's she like? And, please refrain from stating the obvious."

"She's nice."

Her hand loops three times, prompting him to continue, but her attempts are in vain. "How old is she?"

"A year younger than me."

"Oh, what year is she in?"

"Mine." Marshall could feel his cheek burning as the interrogation continued.

"Does she go to your school?"

"No."

"What's your opinion of her?"

"I like her."

"What kind of 'like?'"

"Mum!"

"What?"

"Ugh, please stop!"

"Okay, okay. Well, what else did you learn about this girl?"

"Mum!"

"Paisley, why don't we lay off on him. His face could blend in with a brick wall," says my father.

She snorts, flashing a glance at her son's fire engine red face.

"Very well. But you sir will be answering my questions tomorrow and I don't care how red your face gets in the process!"

"Mum!"

His parents chortle, extremely happy that he's finally breached his 'girls have cooties' stage. Marshall can't resist laughing either, he's got it bad. He knows he's falling hard for Finch.