Fic; Linde/Ville
Title; “Reflect, deflect.”
Author; Me!
Rating; R just encase.
Warnings; Naughty words, serious thought, mentions of sex.
Author's note; OK I'm really branching out on this pairing so comments would be loved and petted regularly. Hopefully this wont be too garbled but this isn't proofed and my grammar isn't the best. Please tell me if it's boring and mushy! Enjoy!
The first will be a reflection, intro as you will, in third person, then will be in entirely Linde's POV. (=
Reflect, Defect
Not many knew.
Linde was Ville's inspiration.
You take away all the “girls”, “woman/women” in his songs or in his personal life and you get Linde the hidden gem of it all. The sanity and stability in Ville's otherwise insane and unstable life that he both needed equally. Sure, Linde had to turn a blind eye to a lot of things (including the nutter ex) but it was all redeemed when he got a sneak peak of the lyrics that Ville had jotted down...
He stayed mainly in Ville's bedroom but had his own “bedroom” for space and practising guitar in peace. But he liked Ville's bedroom (and his, he supposed) where he got to look at the first hand copies, drafts, songs Ville hated and ripped apart, ect. Sometimes he got asked for an opinion but usually he kept his mouth shut not wanting to know for sure if it was or wasn't based on him, you know ignorance is bliss and all that. Well until curiosity got to him.
People who knew the deal between Ville and I usually thought it was because of him that it was all kept hush-hush but in reality it was actually me. It's not a dirty little secret or an affair it's just what it was. I've always been horribly shy and I hate people knowing so much about me so it's best kept well alone, let people think what they will as long as it's not the truth. I love our fans to death and always will, intelligent people, they probably already know without trying. Sometimes it scares me how much they know but I know they will not care so I don't worry, too much. Fact is they probably think Ville and Migé are a likely pair, I'm not jealous, I just read it in the fan fiction... Occasionally... On accident... Oh and my “wife”? She's actually a huge fan that ended up becoming a close friend with a very understanding boyfriend that doesn't mind that we are the couple that aren't really a couple, at all.
My life was perfect, all and out. I couldn't give Ville and I's relationship a name, sometimes I joke saying that we were business partners, he usually replies that we were mixing work with pleasure. I could really love Ville, I know I could, not in a fan girl way that eventually fades, I see every pore, every imperfection and every bad habit but I have plenty of my own so they stop bothering me and I never notice them any more, besides the one that I will get into right now. I'm actually in the kitchen nursing a hangover and waiting for the kettle to boil, old woman. Ville's doing his scandalous bad habit... Knitting. Yes, knitting. He took it up to cope with the stress of making it big in America and hasn't stopped since. I don't like to admit it out loud but the wobbly scarf, that's currently tied around my neck, that was Ville's first success at, was my one of my favourite treasured possessions including my guitar. Yeah, that treasured. If I'm feeling particularly soppy I would admit to him it was on my list to grab if there ever was a fire. Not that it's well done, I'm not blinded, it sort of looks like a dead Christmas tree with slashes of red on it and it would never be called straight, maybe a reflection on it's owner... Who knows?
Yet, I always refuse to switch with one of Ville's newer, better one's as I ignore the knowing look and glee in his body language, the idiot. Or nidiot.
I look over at him now and he's already making yet another beanie hat for himself to go with his million others that are everywhere and always there. In the bed where we have sex, on the couch where we embrace and in the kitchen where we spend most of time talking about anything that crops up. (See I can do poetic!) He was just sitting there in only his boxers on and a half dead expression. Maybe going from pounding Absinthe to pounding him into the mattress wasn't such a good idea... Once we're more awake we'll probably do some bacon sandwich and have some vanilla cuddling away from the beanie explosion. It would settle most woes.
I still need to get him back for the bruising on my hips and the noticeable mark on my neck. For a shy guy it's horrible being called out for a Hickey on my neck and the marks on my hips just ache so I'll get him back, eventually.
Ville's now muttering something un-intelligible and I just nod, too lazy to disagree or focus, on the admittedly lovely man. This coming from a man who never even experimented in college or before Ville. No wonder I'm cheesy. It's a big thing for the feelings that you don't want to admit to.
“Would you fuck me on stage, sweetheart, if I paid you a ten?” Ville spoke up.
I had to laugh around my lovingly made coffee there at that ploy, “Depends.”
I could hear Ville's damn smirk, “On what?”
“If you tell me what your songs are about.”
I hadn't meant to say that... Already feeling a blush coming on I gulped my coffee quickly to distract myself from Ville chuckling at my embarrassment. He was as open as I was shut, it was a surprise we don't end up killing each other.
“I think you already know that, Lily, I know what you get up to in the bedroom.” He lit a fag while talking and managed to put down his knitting at the same time, I suppose it makes me feel better he multi tasks like a woman.
“What beyond fucking you, Valo?”
“Way beyond making love to me,” Joked Ville putting on a very camp voice.
“You're gayer then Christmas, sadly, I love you for it.”
There's a silence. I'm being bolder and less likely to keep in touch with my braincells thanks to being hungover. I turn away from him then tucking my elbows in, craving a cigarette myself, because I don't want to see his facial features soften. I just know he's doing it without looking at him and I can hear him shifting around, excited. For someone who's with someone as guarded and anti-love as me, it's amazing how excited he can get at the little things without breaking down. I nearly jump out of my skin as his cold hand touches my bare side, sliding his arms through my folded ones so we could cuddle. Or spoon. I'd got used to it but after me admitting something I'd always known, it felt... Different. Warmer maybe.
“Who knew Lily had a heart?” Ville breathed against the side of my neck.
“Don't tell anyone. The fans would be besides themselves and I think the rest of the band wouldn't be able to cope with the transition.” I half joked back.
“I love you, too, but you already know that. And don't freak out, be a big boy. It's called love not run-away-like-a-pussy.”
“What if I run like a dog?”
Ville lets out his trademark laugh at that one clearing the nervous air, “Well you always were my bitch.”
“Clever.”
We fall silent, the first silence in the kitchen since I moved in. Yet it doesn't unsettle or bother me, eventually I'll freak out and attempt to leave Ville, avoid being in that kind of relationship again. Even worse with the same sex, with the opposite sex they can attempt to fuck with your head but with the same sex, they know and know how to make it drawn out. I wince at that but know I can't go back, Ville wouldn't let go easily and I'm not sure I would be able to resist. Maybe. Who knows. I'm too lazy and content to test the theory so I just relax even more in his embrace. I still get confused by him and I still find myself thinking for hours about Ville but in a way, keeps us clicking, different, not boring.
I suppose the fear is worth it as I look back and remember Ville's answer to my question, the songs are about me. That will tide me by with whatever freak outs I have when I recover but all I can think about is the way Ville is breathing against my neck.
I know I'm overdue a vanilla/beanie hat/Ville cuddle on the couch. Best worrying about what there's to worry about later...