xemoxomegax
in
__vam
Cry - 616 In Your Heart.
Title: Cry - 616 In Your Heart.
Rating: R.
Pairing: Vam. Suggested Jonna/Ville, Missy/Bam.
Summary: After the accident Bam doesn't know how to cry. Maybe his angel will have to teach him.
Disclaimer: I don't own this, and it's really not true. -Pokes Ville- Looooook, living... -bitten- AND SHARP O.O
Authors note: So... my depressed notes have finished and I wrote this from scratch today...-twitches nervously-
Chapter One.
Chapter Two.
Chapter Three.
Chapter Four.
So much time passed that many could hardly count the days since it happened. Too long, too many numbers, too much time, too much numb lack of breath and life and light. Why would anyone want to count such things anyway?
‘Hey… let us count the days since my soul died.’
‘How about we keep a record of how long I haven’t felt?’
No one it their right mind would do that. But luckily Mr Margera had never quite been in his right mind.
He didn’t even have to glance at the calendar on his wall as he muttered under his breath, “Six months, and sixteen days…”
“What was that?”
He turned as he heard the soft female voice. Forced a smile across his lips as the small blonde girl walked up to him, arms around his waist he didn’t want, though couldn’t push away.
She was the disease that clouded him. No way out, no cure. Something he didn’t want but would always have because he had to. It was like being a fourteen year old stuck with his parents once again. But the truth was, when he was a spoilt grounded teenager, he rebelled, he faught.
Then what stopped him now?
When did the fight die?
When did jumping off things and causing as much chaos as possible become the very last thing on his mind?
It wasn’t as if the ’more important things’ excuse could be used. For the only thing that was ever truly important to him was gone. It must have been something else… Maybe… no one to impress?
He could remember so many weeks and days and months and years ago… crashing into a door. Or a wall. It was fuzzy. Hazy.
Finland… he was drunk… and his boy was standing there like a fallen angel. All in black, dark curls just showing beneath his beanie, green eyes and pink lips revealing a smirk that always seemed to linger. Though not callous or cold… just knowing, maybe a little teasing. Playful even.
He smiled a little. Ignoring the babble of his fiance as memories clouded his mind. Memories he hadn’t allowed himself to look to now the only retreat as he heard what he didn’t want to hear.
Finland… New Years… running into a door. For him. Because how else was such a beautiful man going to notice him. The tiny little guy with blue eyes. What he didn’t know was green eyes hadn’t left him the entire evening. He didn’t need to attract attention when he already held this man’s heart after a single fleeting look. A glance.
And that was that. History. Gone. Never to be seen again. Never to be felt in a land where his lover’s body lay.
The first few weeks it grazed a bit. That he couldn’t visit the grave. That he couldn’t say goodbye every time he went to sleep. That he couldn’t sit at the memorial of a beautiful life and shed beautiful tears for his beautiful love. Maybe it would provide that connection.. A connection he had never lost but couldn’t quite feel anymore.
Maybe tears sinking through the dirt and to the final resting place of his Ville would make it over. Finished. Maybe if he could just touch a hand to the stone that beared his name that would be it. He would cry.
But now there was only stark darkness. Everyone had thought he was over it. Six months, half a year, maybe a little bit over. Enough time to forget about a friend, perhaps. A friend he saw a few times every few months. A friend he obsessed over endlessly.
Maybe enough time for a friend, he would never know. But never long enough for an idol. A love. A soul mate.
So he still thought about it endlessly. Still wallowed in the numbness that shrouded his soul. Still sat in silence as he watched the now heavily pregnant fiance of his Ville doing ridiculous interviews on tiny channels of tiny Scandinavian cities. Things he shouldn’t have watched but did… just to see if he could catch a word. Catch a mention of how she had this child within her.
His head snapped up as the words of the girl finally permeated his anguished thoughts, blinking a few times. “What?”
“I said Nat’s here, she’s outside, and I have to go. I’ll be back Monday morning.” And with that she pressed a kiss to his cheek with a quiet ‘I love you’ he couldn’t bring himself to return. She looked to him curiously for a moment as only silence met her words before turning, grabbing her weekend bag and leaving the castle.
A hen night. Happiness and sex and God damn fucking veils.
He smiled at the thought his his pretty little future bride getting blinding drunk with some muscled beef cake of a stripper as he sunk a blade into his wrists.
Rating: R.
Pairing: Vam. Suggested Jonna/Ville, Missy/Bam.
Summary: After the accident Bam doesn't know how to cry. Maybe his angel will have to teach him.
Disclaimer: I don't own this, and it's really not true. -Pokes Ville- Looooook, living... -bitten- AND SHARP O.O
Authors note: So... my depressed notes have finished and I wrote this from scratch today...-twitches nervously-
Chapter One.
Chapter Two.
Chapter Three.
Chapter Four.
So much time passed that many could hardly count the days since it happened. Too long, too many numbers, too much time, too much numb lack of breath and life and light. Why would anyone want to count such things anyway?
‘Hey… let us count the days since my soul died.’
‘How about we keep a record of how long I haven’t felt?’
No one it their right mind would do that. But luckily Mr Margera had never quite been in his right mind.
He didn’t even have to glance at the calendar on his wall as he muttered under his breath, “Six months, and sixteen days…”
“What was that?”
He turned as he heard the soft female voice. Forced a smile across his lips as the small blonde girl walked up to him, arms around his waist he didn’t want, though couldn’t push away.
She was the disease that clouded him. No way out, no cure. Something he didn’t want but would always have because he had to. It was like being a fourteen year old stuck with his parents once again. But the truth was, when he was a spoilt grounded teenager, he rebelled, he faught.
Then what stopped him now?
When did the fight die?
When did jumping off things and causing as much chaos as possible become the very last thing on his mind?
It wasn’t as if the ’more important things’ excuse could be used. For the only thing that was ever truly important to him was gone. It must have been something else… Maybe… no one to impress?
He could remember so many weeks and days and months and years ago… crashing into a door. Or a wall. It was fuzzy. Hazy.
Finland… he was drunk… and his boy was standing there like a fallen angel. All in black, dark curls just showing beneath his beanie, green eyes and pink lips revealing a smirk that always seemed to linger. Though not callous or cold… just knowing, maybe a little teasing. Playful even.
He smiled a little. Ignoring the babble of his fiance as memories clouded his mind. Memories he hadn’t allowed himself to look to now the only retreat as he heard what he didn’t want to hear.
Finland… New Years… running into a door. For him. Because how else was such a beautiful man going to notice him. The tiny little guy with blue eyes. What he didn’t know was green eyes hadn’t left him the entire evening. He didn’t need to attract attention when he already held this man’s heart after a single fleeting look. A glance.
And that was that. History. Gone. Never to be seen again. Never to be felt in a land where his lover’s body lay.
The first few weeks it grazed a bit. That he couldn’t visit the grave. That he couldn’t say goodbye every time he went to sleep. That he couldn’t sit at the memorial of a beautiful life and shed beautiful tears for his beautiful love. Maybe it would provide that connection.. A connection he had never lost but couldn’t quite feel anymore.
Maybe tears sinking through the dirt and to the final resting place of his Ville would make it over. Finished. Maybe if he could just touch a hand to the stone that beared his name that would be it. He would cry.
But now there was only stark darkness. Everyone had thought he was over it. Six months, half a year, maybe a little bit over. Enough time to forget about a friend, perhaps. A friend he saw a few times every few months. A friend he obsessed over endlessly.
Maybe enough time for a friend, he would never know. But never long enough for an idol. A love. A soul mate.
So he still thought about it endlessly. Still wallowed in the numbness that shrouded his soul. Still sat in silence as he watched the now heavily pregnant fiance of his Ville doing ridiculous interviews on tiny channels of tiny Scandinavian cities. Things he shouldn’t have watched but did… just to see if he could catch a word. Catch a mention of how she had this child within her.
His head snapped up as the words of the girl finally permeated his anguished thoughts, blinking a few times. “What?”
“I said Nat’s here, she’s outside, and I have to go. I’ll be back Monday morning.” And with that she pressed a kiss to his cheek with a quiet ‘I love you’ he couldn’t bring himself to return. She looked to him curiously for a moment as only silence met her words before turning, grabbing her weekend bag and leaving the castle.
A hen night. Happiness and sex and God damn fucking veils.
He smiled at the thought his his pretty little future bride getting blinding drunk with some muscled beef cake of a stripper as he sunk a blade into his wrists.