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In a realm where stardust rewrites fate, Louis’ decades of silent yearning melt into golden possibility as cosmic strings pull him toward Marie beneath a cathedral of floating cherry blossoms. Her laughter rings through the veil of time itself as she steps forward in a confection of lilac tulle, the gown’s sleeves blooming with hand-stitched hydrangeas that mirror the living blossoms braided into her upswept hair. A crown of pearl-dusted vines secures her elbow-length veil, its edges fluttering with embroidered monarch butterflies poised for flight, while her bouquet bursts with blushing ranunculus and sprigs of silver-dollar eucalyptus tied with silk the exact cerulean hue of Louis’ pocket square. He waits breathless in a tailored suit that shifts from seafoam to cobalt as he moves, the fabric alive with subtly glowing constellations stitched by invisible hands, his freshly trimmed waves brushed with iridescent pollen from the gardens of eternity. When their hands meet, the boutonnière at his lapel—a single frosted clematis kissed with dew—pulses in rhythm with the diamond brooch securing Marie’s veil, twin heartbeats syncing as ancestral spirits hum their approval through the amber-lit air. Petals rain upward instead of down as they seal their vow with a kiss that unravels every lonely timeline, their joined shadows casting the shape of a phoenix in flight across the altar’s timeworn stones.
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