Goodbye
Title: Goodbye
Rating: This parts probably PG
Disclaimer: Last I checked, it was illegal to own people. So no, this never happened
Summary: The first part of a three piece story. Ville's had enough
Authors Notes: This was a story I started as a different pairing around oh, six years ago? Procrastination much? But, I redid it, and I like it now. So, please let me know how it is. I know the ideas probably been done before, but I just wanted to write something.
Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. Ville tugged the blankets closer around his thin shoulders, snuggling into the feeling of the fabric on his skin, as he watched Bam breathe. The shorter man lay spread on his back, bare to the world. His hair fell backwords, out of his face, and lips were slightly parted, allowing his breath to whistle quietly passed his teeth. His slender neck led to muscular shoulders and tattooed arms, which Ville took his time to examine, burning the image of his lover into his mind. He stifled a sob, and concentrated on memorizing the shape of Bam's chest, his stomach, his hips. He found himself reaching out before he knew what he was doing, and barely stopped himself from touching the tattoo that nestled just above Bam's crotch.
He squeezed his eyes shut, in a useless attempt to keep the tears from escaping his eyes. He pulled his hand back and wrapped his arms tightly around himself. If it had been a year ago, even a month ago, he would have gladly touched that tattoo, then slid his hand down, grabbed Bam's crotch, and given him the wake up of a lifetime. But it wasn't then, it was now, and Ville couldn't bring himself to touch the man, his own fiance, in that way. Not anymore. He laid their for as long as he dared, watching Bam sleep, memorizing the gentle rise and fall of his chest.
Slowly, he slipped from the bed, now not even trying to stop the tears from rolling down his ivory face. He was thankful, for once, that Bam slept so late, as he was able to use the light that crept from behind the curtains to help his search for his clothes amongst Bam's on the messy floor. With another glance back at Bam, he slipped into the bathroom.
Collapsing against the counter, he allowed himself two minutes to break down. Two short, painful minutes he sobbed against the cold granite. Then he pushed himself back up and stared in the mirror. In the blur of tearstained eyes, he saw everything he had left behind. His parents, Mige and Linde, his country. He had left it all for Bam. He took a deep breath, and pushed down the cold despair that came every time he let himself think about what he was doing, every time he thought about leaving his Bam. He replaced it with the stone cold anger that had become his only companion in the past month. He knew holding onto that anger, that want to see his family again, that would keep him from backing down from his plan. He leaned over the sink, splashing cold water on his face, before straightening and quickly pulling his clothes on.
His feet moved almost silently as he left the bathroom, allowing himself only a quick glance at the sleeping Bam as he made his way to the closet. He walked in, quickly finding the two suitcases he had hidden the day before, packed with the all of his belongings that he wasn't willing to leave behind. He carried them out of the closet, and sat them down next to the bed. He reached into the outer pocket of the first bag, and pulled out a neatly folded piece of paper, and carefully placed it on his pillow, next to Bam's sleeping figure. He stood there for just a moment longer, gazing at Bam's face, before he forced himself to turn away. His green eyes blinked closed as he smothered yet another sob, then he grabbed his suitcases and was out the door. He made his way quickly downstairs, stopping just long enough in Bam's studio to grab his guitar case, before heading to the front door of his and Bam's home.
He pushed the door open, allowing himself a small half smile that held no joy as he saw that his taxi was already there. He turned back to the house, locking the door quickly, before sliding his key underneath the welcome mat. He made his way to the taxi, keeping his head down. He pulled the door open, and shoved his suitcases inside. He stopped then, turning and looking at his home of the last year, the home of his lover, of the keeper of his heart. He stared at the house, memorizing every feature.
"Hey, I ain't got all day man" the taxi drivers voice broke into Ville's thoughts, and he forced himself to turn away from the house, climbing into the cab. He didn't look at the cab driver at all, didn't say a word besides a mumbled 'airport please', just sat and stared at the house he loved, until it was long gone from his sight.