Clint wasn't sure if it was the alcohol, the calming draught or everything but he fucking felt fantastic. He wasn't sure where this whole thing had come from but it wasn't as awful as he thought it'd be. He'd realized how much he loved Daphne over their stay in Spain. He'd hardly left her side and had been so bloody worried that he'd pushed every emotion downward, afraid he was going to lose her, too. But when she'd gotten better? It had been the most amazing feeling ever and Clint couldn't begin to verbalize how it had made him feel. She'd barely been able to make it home and he had no idea how they made it through the wedding without her collapsing but she was just bloody perfect. Pulling her closer, Clint held her to him, not wanting to let go.
Things had chanted so much for him over the past few months and he hadn't had time to adjust to any of it. And now? Well, now things had changed again and he was married. Fuck. His thoughts drifted as they danced, thinking about the women he'd been with and how nothing he'd experienced had ever really compared to what he felt just holding Daphne Greengrass Warrington. Fuck. That sounded so weird to say. However, he had a hard time wiping the stupid grin off his face that just seemed to not want to go away. They were married. Fucking crazy.
He grinned at her comment, dropping a light kiss on her hair as they swayed to the music. It was a beautiful night and the formal wedding his mother had always dreamed of was a huge success. Glancing over the crowd, his eyes narrowed when he spotted Brown and Davies. Of all the fucking nerve. She'd had the balls to show up? And bring Roger Davies? His desire to have her blackballed from society welled up. Clint had once liked Lavender. She'd been cute and funny but now? After all the shite she'd pulled? He wanted to smack her. Glancing down at Daphne, he leaned down, brushing his lips over hers. His mother caught his eye when he pulled away and he could see her dabbing her eyes. "You're the one who looks amazing," he said.