Smoothing down your wedding dress, you breathed out silently, trying to call your shaky nerves. You had nothing to be nervous about, you were about to marry the man of your dreams and you were 100% he was in love with you, as you were in love with him. Looking back on how you two had gotten together, you laughed at the fond memories. You two had met at the age of four, on the streets of Rio de Janeiro.

You two hadn't grown up in the best of neighborhoods but it could have been a lot worse of a situation. You lived across the street from each other and he was your older brother's best friend and still is to this day. Thiago was only a year older than you but to little kids, a year difference was a huge age gap. You had been playing with the doll you had gotten for your birthday. The doll was a little ragged but you treated it with such care that it could have been held together by a string and you would not rip it.

You were the youngest of three, with two older brothers. Your older brothers were playing football in the street with a bunch of the other neighborhood kids. Watching them, especially Thiago who's defensive skills bested kids that were twice his height, you wanted to join in. Standing up, you walked over to the kids, all of which were boys. You were one of the few girls in the neighborhood but you didn't mind. Tugging on the shirt of your oldest brother, you gained attention of most of the players. "Can I play with you guys?" you asked.

"Sorry, but we have too many people, sis," Ricardo, your oldest brother, stated.

"I don't see twenty two people," you replied, referring to how each team could have eleven players. "There's room."

"No there's not, street football is different," Ricardo insisted.

"But I want to play," you stated.

"But there's an age limit, sorry, but you're too young," one of the kids you didn't recognize say.

"Thiago and Pepe (your other brother) are only a year older than me," you said.

"Doesn't matter, we can actually play. Besides, we don't let girls mess up the game," Thiago had told you. The rest of the boys voiced their agreement. "Go back to your dolls," Thiago had taunted. From that point on, until you were eleven, you had hated Thiago. He had gotten really good at football but that didn't matter to you because he was mean, rude, and selfish. He joined in with your brothers to tease you, pulling your braids, calling you shorty, the usual seemingly harmless mean kid stuff. You had distanced yourself from him. Your brothers were at least nice in private but Thiago seemed to never loose that smile on his face.

However, once you turned eleven, things had changed. You and Thiago were in the same class that year because you had gotten advanced in studies. There was a project assigned to the class, a pair project. The teacher decided the pairs however, and you were stuck with your childhood tormenter, Thiago Silva. Walking home from school that afternoon, you heard someone jogging. Turning around you saw Thiago running over to you. "Wait up (Y/N)!" he called.

You slowed your speed and turned to wait for him, waiting to see what he wanted. He caught up relatively quickly and fell into step besides you. "What do you want?" you asked coldly.

"The project that we were assigned, when do you want to work on it together?" he asked.

"I was going to do half and give the rest to you to do," you replied, clutching your books tightly to your chest.

"But it's a partner project, we're supposed to work together, like a team," he stated, looking at you curiously.

"I thought you would be the one to agree whole heartedly with that. I'm just a big crybaby right? Going to pull my pigtails? Throw my doll? Knock my books down?" you accused, steaming ahead of him, not wanting to be in his presence any longer than you needed to.

"No, I just want to get the project done. My parents said I can't go to practice until I get my grades up," Thiago said.

"Fine, we can work at my house. Tomorrow, noon sharp," you ordered, slamming the door to your home in his face. Noon the next day dragged around and there was a knock at the door. Your mother opened the door to see Thiago standing in the doorway.

"Hello Thiago, Pepe isn't here right now—"

"—No problem. I came here to work with (Y/N) on our project," Thiago responded. Your mother waved him into your room where you were setting your notes up. You motioned for him to join you on the floor and he obliged. As you two worked, you realized he really wasn't as stupid as you had first believed. And he was, dare you say it, nice? You two finished the project quickly and sat around your room for a minute before Thiago turned to look at you. "(Y/N)?" he asked.

"Hmm?" you replied.

"I'm sorry for teasing you when we were younger, I was rude," he stated. Surprised, you smiled at him and helped him off the floor. Thanking him for his apology, your relationship officially entered the friendship zone. That was all to change when you were sixteen and he was seventeen. It had been a freak accident. Your father had been at work when a fire had started. On the highest floor, he wasn't able to get out and you never heard from him again. Your oldest brother, now in his mid twenties, took care of the funeral details while you kept your mother together. Thiago had been invited to the funeral and you couldn't help looking for him. While you were indulged in a conversation with your cousin, you felt a tap on your shoulder. Turning around, you saw Thiago standing there.

He pulled you into a hug and without words, the tears started to flow again. "I'm sorry for your loss," he stated.

"Thank you," you sighed. Your cousin had scurried off and it was just you and Thiago. "Will you take a walk with me?" you asked.

"My pleasure," he responded. Puberty had been good to Thiago, you realized. He had grown considerably and now had at least half a foot on you. His already plump lips seemed to gain volume put they fit his tanned face just fine. His eyes had softened and his hair still curled slightly. "How are you holding up?"

"I'm . . . good, I guess. My mother was a mess but we're holding ourselves up. It's what Papi would have wanted," you sighed.

"You're very strong," Thiago agreed. "And very beautiful," he added. You smiled and thanked him, continuing your walk through the garden. Tapping you on the shoulder, Thiago brandished a flower he had snagged and tucked it into your hair. "There, now you really look like a princess," he smiled. Blushing, you looked down and hid you smile. He had earned your heart after that day, and he still did to this day. You two dated for a number of years before deciding to marry.

Which brought you to today. Smoothing out your dress one more time and linking your arm with Ricardo's you walked down the aisle. Through the lace veil, your fiancé was visible, a smile on his lips. Grabbing his hand, he led you to the altar where you officially became Mrs. Thiago Silva.