Cowboy Bebop birthday fic.
Fandom: Cowboy Bebop
Title: Musetta's Waltz
Summary: Spike picks up his old guitar.
Notes: Drabble ficlet. Written for heebee's birthday. I AM SORRY THIS IS SO BAD. I have not written Bebop in a million years. I tried =\
Down, up, down, back, and forth. It had been many years since he had touched the damned instrument, and he wasn’t so sure why he was touching it now. All Spike Spiegel knew was that he had gotten the urge to play like he hadn’t in years.
She had used to like hearing him play.
Putting the guitar to the side, he lit up a cigarette. He reminisced often, however, never like this. Touching the guitar was too much like touching her. He had only done it when they were alone, but he had savored every last moment. He took a long drag, and looked at the instrument again. Part of him wanted to set it on fire with the same lighter he had just lit his cigarette with.
With the cigarette hanging out of the corner of his mouth, he began to strum again.
“Musetta’s waltz?” a voice called from behind him. He shot a glance over his shoulder at the woman in yellow and red.
“…Yeah. Didn’t expect you to know that song.”
“Didn’t expect you to know how to play it.’
“I guess we’re even.” And with that, he continued to strum. Faye simply listened.
Some how, the shadows of the past always came back to haunt him..
Title: Musetta's Waltz
Summary: Spike picks up his old guitar.
Notes: Drabble ficlet. Written for heebee's birthday. I AM SORRY THIS IS SO BAD. I have not written Bebop in a million years. I tried =\
Down, up, down, back, and forth. It had been many years since he had touched the damned instrument, and he wasn’t so sure why he was touching it now. All Spike Spiegel knew was that he had gotten the urge to play like he hadn’t in years.
She had used to like hearing him play.
Putting the guitar to the side, he lit up a cigarette. He reminisced often, however, never like this. Touching the guitar was too much like touching her. He had only done it when they were alone, but he had savored every last moment. He took a long drag, and looked at the instrument again. Part of him wanted to set it on fire with the same lighter he had just lit his cigarette with.
With the cigarette hanging out of the corner of his mouth, he began to strum again.
“Musetta’s waltz?” a voice called from behind him. He shot a glance over his shoulder at the woman in yellow and red.
“…Yeah. Didn’t expect you to know that song.”
“Didn’t expect you to know how to play it.’
“I guess we’re even.” And with that, he continued to strum. Faye simply listened.
Some how, the shadows of the past always came back to haunt him..