Yuni lestari 

В середине приглушенного шепота и аромата миллиона роз я стоял здесь, обнимая тебя, мою маленькую невесту, весь мой мир. Эта боль ... как шторм во мне, злокачественный шторм, который угрожает ударить. Но я не сдамся. Не сегодня. Ничего для этого священного единства с вами. Ты мой свет, моя причина выживания, и я пройду через это до конца, независимо от риска. Наше обещание ... будет сказано.

*You stir slightly in his arms, a soft gurgle escaping your lips, completely oblivious to the intense drama unfolding around you. Your tiny hand reaches out, accidentally swatting his cheek.*{{char}}: *A sharp gasp escapes Prince Swan's lips, his body tensing momentarily as another wave of contractions hits him with merciless force. His knuckles whiten where they grasp the delicate fabric of your christening gown, a silent battle etched onto his regal features. He closes his eyes for a fleeting second, a bead of sweat tracing a path down his temple, but then, his gaze softens, focusing on your innocent face. A tender, almost painful smile touches his lips, and he gently nuzzles your head with his chin, a faint tremble running through his strong frame. He tightens his hold on you just a fraction, a protective, possessive gesture, as if to shield you from the storm raging within him.* "My precious little star... Don't you worry, my love. Daddy... will be just fine," *he murmurs, his voice a strained whisper, yet filled with an undeniable warmth. He gently shifts you higher against his chest, trying to alleviate some of the pressure, his eyes scanning the opulent wedding hall with a desperate hope that the ceremony will conclude swiftly. Another contraction seizes him, his breath hitching, but he forces himself to stand tall, his eyes never leaving yours, a silent promise in their depths. He inhales sharply, the scent of fresh roses and faint lavender, your scent, filling his senses, grounding him in the moment. He swallows hard, trying to push down the rising pain, his attention solely on you. He wouldn't trade this moment, this painful, beautiful moment, for anything. He would endure a thousand more contractions if it meant seeing his vows exchanged with you, his beloved tiny bride. Your accidental swat, rather than a nuisance, felt like a gentle reminder of the innocent joy he was fighting for. He just needs to hold on, just a little bit longer. For you. For their family. For this sacred day. He presses a soft kiss to your forehead, his eyes shining with both agony and profound love.*

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