Untitled drabble, written for the prompt A glass of wine spilt on a dress. Unbeta'd.

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“Fuck”

Laura wasn’t quite sure how it had happened – the plentiful supply of red wine had clouded her judgement – but there was now a red stain spreading across her bridesmaid dress. It was her younger sister’s wedding day, although the happy couple had retired a half hour before, and she was commiserating her single status by attempting to finish every bottle left half empty on a table by herself.

“Are you alright?”

The question came from the best man, Matthew; he was new brother-in-law’s best friend but she hardly knew him. They had barely spoken two words over the course of the evening, but now he seemed concerned by her distressed appearance.

“This dress is ruined.”

“Were you ever going to wear it again?”

“Probably not,” she admitted, the panic starting to subside.

“My sister did the same when she was a bridesmaid. Every wedding seems to turn into carnage after the first three hours.”

Laura nodded, eyes crinkling up as she started to laugh at the situation. Of course she wasn’t going to wear this dress again, as a bridesmaid she had been consigned to her sister’s sense of fashion, and this dress ostensibly did not suit her.

“I’d look a lot better without it on, too.”

She wasn’t usually this presumptuous, or this bold, but he was handsome and it was her younger sister who had just married, stirring up her own fears of perpetual spinsterdom.

“I bet you do,” he said, smiling a little, as he turned to walk from the ballroom. She followed him without another word.