Bad Romance. [3/?]
Title: Bad Romance
Chapter: Three
Characters: Eimear O'Donnell, Ville Valo, etc
Summary: Irish girl, Finnish heart
Disclaimer: I WISH!
"Tadaaaaa!"
"Nice cake. What's it supposed to say though fag?"
"In case of asteroid...Jesse came over earlier and ate the icing though. I had to punch him..."
"You could have just re-iced it"
"Ran out of icing. Cigarette?" Ville asked, leaning over the counter and offering her the packed of Marlboro Reds.
"Don't mind if I do," she replied, taking one and setting it between her pursed lips, waiting for Ville to light it for her. "So, what are you making me for dinner Handsome?"
"Veggie chilli pasta," he remarked, trying to keep the giggles from his voice.
"Mmm...interesting"
"It's your recipe"
"I keep forgetting you speak perfect English...Stupid blog"
Ville laughed and returned his attention to the sauce he was slowly simmering in a pot.
****
They'd been 'dating' for over a month now, and Eimear felt totally at ease with Ville; ever respectful, curtious, and naturally, the perfect romantic.
The meal began in near-silence, Eimear quietly wondering how Ville had managed to make her own recipe so many times better, and what he was planning, and Ville pondering how he was going to ask her...
****
Once the meal was finished, Ville cleared his throat and looked up. "I..uhm...I wrote a song for you- Well no, actually...a whole album really..." Ville said, breaking the impromptu silence that had fallen when he'd coughed. His demeanour was one of a somewhat nervous wreck as he toyed with the fork he was holding, fingering the prongs as he waited for a response.
Eimear glanced up at him, an eyebrow arched at a questioning angle. "You wrote your album. For me?! That's the nicest and most romantic thing anyone's ever done for me!"
Ville was slowly shrinking into himself like a turtle into its shell as he nodded sheepishly like a schoolboy caught doing something he ought not to. Eimear smiled. "Awwwh! It explains a lot though...uhm...could I possibly hear it?"
"Well, it's not finished, but...I can play you one of them? Hang on I'll grab Sylvester"
"Sylvester? Like the cartoon cat?"
"No Stallone. It's my acoustic guitar. Don't worry, I don't keep a tiny man in the closet that I make play music to woo gorgeous women or anything. I have Mige for that..." He muttered, making himself chuckle as he opened the door and pulled out the battered old guitar.
"Okay, so I kinda wrote this one when I was trying to ask you out...uhm...It's called "Scared To Death"..." He paused, gazing at her before flickering his watch somewhere else, before settling on a particularly interesting coffee stain on his rug. "...I don't really play the songs until they're recorded and ready to go...and I'm sorry if you don't like it and...-"
"Relax Ville, sweetie, it'll be fine. You don't have to play me it if you don't want to!"
"No I've got myself all hyped to play now. I can't let you down!"
Strumming out the first few chords, Eimear watched his elegant fingers dance across the fretboard, the practised moves coming easily to him, as she gazed, mesmerised by the subtle movements, and beautiful tones they caused.
"In the biblical sense and sensibility,
Let me know you,
I'll kiss that smile off your lips,
Just say when,
Just say when again..."
Playing, he kept his own gaze fixed firmly on the corner of the room, unable to look at Eimear for fear she wasn't enjoying it. For fear of rejection. But right now, playing to her, it felt right, it felt like he'd been writing all those years to play to this woman.
The second he finished, before he could even look up, Eimear was gripping his chin, pulling it upwards towards her own as she met his lips with her own in an impassioned kiss. Leaning back, she simply smiled. "Thank you. That was beautiful"
Smirking bashfully, Ville set the guitar down and stood up opposite her, "Well that leads to my next question very nicely. Will you come on tour with me when the album's completed?"
Chapter: Three
Characters: Eimear O'Donnell, Ville Valo, etc
Summary: Irish girl, Finnish heart
Disclaimer: I WISH!
"Tadaaaaa!"
"Nice cake. What's it supposed to say though fag?"
"In case of asteroid...Jesse came over earlier and ate the icing though. I had to punch him..."
"You could have just re-iced it"
"Ran out of icing. Cigarette?" Ville asked, leaning over the counter and offering her the packed of Marlboro Reds.
"Don't mind if I do," she replied, taking one and setting it between her pursed lips, waiting for Ville to light it for her. "So, what are you making me for dinner Handsome?"
"Veggie chilli pasta," he remarked, trying to keep the giggles from his voice.
"Mmm...interesting"
"It's your recipe"
"I keep forgetting you speak perfect English...Stupid blog"
Ville laughed and returned his attention to the sauce he was slowly simmering in a pot.
****
They'd been 'dating' for over a month now, and Eimear felt totally at ease with Ville; ever respectful, curtious, and naturally, the perfect romantic.
The meal began in near-silence, Eimear quietly wondering how Ville had managed to make her own recipe so many times better, and what he was planning, and Ville pondering how he was going to ask her...
****
Once the meal was finished, Ville cleared his throat and looked up. "I..uhm...I wrote a song for you- Well no, actually...a whole album really..." Ville said, breaking the impromptu silence that had fallen when he'd coughed. His demeanour was one of a somewhat nervous wreck as he toyed with the fork he was holding, fingering the prongs as he waited for a response.
Eimear glanced up at him, an eyebrow arched at a questioning angle. "You wrote your album. For me?! That's the nicest and most romantic thing anyone's ever done for me!"
Ville was slowly shrinking into himself like a turtle into its shell as he nodded sheepishly like a schoolboy caught doing something he ought not to. Eimear smiled. "Awwwh! It explains a lot though...uhm...could I possibly hear it?"
"Well, it's not finished, but...I can play you one of them? Hang on I'll grab Sylvester"
"Sylvester? Like the cartoon cat?"
"No Stallone. It's my acoustic guitar. Don't worry, I don't keep a tiny man in the closet that I make play music to woo gorgeous women or anything. I have Mige for that..." He muttered, making himself chuckle as he opened the door and pulled out the battered old guitar.
"Okay, so I kinda wrote this one when I was trying to ask you out...uhm...It's called "Scared To Death"..." He paused, gazing at her before flickering his watch somewhere else, before settling on a particularly interesting coffee stain on his rug. "...I don't really play the songs until they're recorded and ready to go...and I'm sorry if you don't like it and...-"
"Relax Ville, sweetie, it'll be fine. You don't have to play me it if you don't want to!"
"No I've got myself all hyped to play now. I can't let you down!"
Strumming out the first few chords, Eimear watched his elegant fingers dance across the fretboard, the practised moves coming easily to him, as she gazed, mesmerised by the subtle movements, and beautiful tones they caused.
"In the biblical sense and sensibility,
Let me know you,
I'll kiss that smile off your lips,
Just say when,
Just say when again..."
Playing, he kept his own gaze fixed firmly on the corner of the room, unable to look at Eimear for fear she wasn't enjoying it. For fear of rejection. But right now, playing to her, it felt right, it felt like he'd been writing all those years to play to this woman.
The second he finished, before he could even look up, Eimear was gripping his chin, pulling it upwards towards her own as she met his lips with her own in an impassioned kiss. Leaning back, she simply smiled. "Thank you. That was beautiful"
Smirking bashfully, Ville set the guitar down and stood up opposite her, "Well that leads to my next question very nicely. Will you come on tour with me when the album's completed?"