[original] to burn the ropes
title: to burn the ropes
rating: g
word count: 5073
a/n: RIGHT so when ft island's "love love love" mv came out i was just like "FFFFFF SO INSPIRED" and idk i got this thing and honestly i don't think it's the worst thing ever but i really liked it and i hope u do 2 (':
but i don't get the names lol cause putting them up rn... is the first time i've reread this in a while. rly cheesy and etc
also bullshit formatting oops dnw to fix atm (ever)
!songfic btw with the random translated lyrics in italics
Henry and Francine loved each other. However, their every moment was controlled by their mistress’s ropes. So one day, they asked each other-
“What if we burned the ropes?”
--
My heart is freezing, yet my love for you still burns.
I was born for you; I loved you until madness and I was so very happy-
But now the memories are burning away.
Good bye, and take care, my love.
( I try to resist the urge to cry. )
In a dollhouse, tucked snugly into the corner of a closet, lived two dolls, Henry and Francine. They were sold as a set, a man and wife in a glorious house. Their house was essentially one large room with two sides- one for Francine and another for Henry. Henry’s side had a piano and a simple workbench- Henry was dressed in a light colored suit. Francine’s had a vanity mirror with makeup strewn across the table, and a birdcage. Francine was dressed in a knee-length cream colored dress, filled with ruffles, and her shoes were simple white ballet flats.
The owner of the house had grew up long ago- as a little girl, she had played with the dolls every day. She filled the couple with happy memories, spending all of her days with them.
As all children, she grew up. When she was older, she set aside the marionettes and house for cell phones and iPods- she set the dolls in their respective sides in her grandmother’s closet, and never touched them again.
The dolls still managed quite well, despite their owner’s disappearance- however, they never managed to touch each other, as the ropes which bound them their bar. They lived the years like this, until the very end.
“Francine, you know, it’s almost the mistress’s birthday.”
Francine nodded, glancing at him through her mirror. “Do you think we should do something? Will she come back?”
Grinning, Henry spread his arms at his piano. “Of course we should! We’ve done this every year. I’m going to compose a song for her this year. I’m sure she’ll love it.” Sitting at the bench, he placed his delicate fingers at the keys. “I’ve already got the beginning figured out.”
He began to dance his fingers along the keys, starting the song out with a simple, music box-like tune, which slowly evolved into a grand, passionate melody.
Francine smiled. “Always the positive one, aren’t you?” She got up from her chair, and started to make her way towards him. “It sounds great.”
Henry stopped his playing, tapping keys. He blushed slightly, and mumbled, “It’s only the beginning, you know.” He turned and got up, and reached an arm out to his wife. “Here- dear, take my hand.”
Francine struggled, and stretched her arm out as much as her joints would let her, only to collapse. Henry gasped, and reached out a bit more, dropping his hand towards her. “Thank you, Henry. If you ask me, it feels like the ropes are getting looser every day.” She rubbed her wrists where her strings were tied, and reached out to her husband.
“Dearest, I know.” He smiled as her hand gripped his. Slowly pulling her up, he said, “I’ll find a way to get us out of these one day.” They leaned into each other’s embrace, the strings straining. He whispered, “And when I do, I promise you we’ll dance like we did back then.”
She smiled sadly, “I know you will.” Raising herself, she softly kissed his lips.
Walking back with slight difficulty, they both took their seats. Francine, playing with the strings connected to her, and Henry, playing away at his piano.
( I was born as your man, so I loved you endlessly. )
Henry smiled to himself. He looked over the sheets a final time, proud with his work. He folded it carefully, perfectly creasing the edges until he had a proper paper airplane. He quickly scribbled a note onto it, and threw it at his wife. It landed in her dress, and Henry went back to his workbench, concocting schemes of escape from their binds.
( The tears are filling up, soaking my whole body. )
Francine awoke to an airplane in her lap. She smiled at her husband, who was once again playing on the piano. She read the note scribbled on the plane and laughed quietly to herself.
Dearest-
I think our mistress would really enjoy this song. Don’t you? We could just dress you up like a bird and put you in that birdcage of yours- you can sing it just like the birds do! I hope you enjoy it. I’m still working on the lyrics. ;)
Henry
She quickly scanned the sheets, reading the notes and humming the song softly.
“Henry~!” He glanced over the piano, still playing the song. “Yes?”
“I think it’s perfect.” She smiled warmly, and asked, “Could I help with the lyrics?”
“Although I’d love you to, I want to surprise you.” He stuck his pinky out into the air, and grinned. “Pinky promise not to peek?”
She laughed, and also stuck her pinky out. “Of course.” Not like I could reach your side anyways. She turned around as Henry went back to playing. She felt the tears in her eyes, and let them spill over, and wept to herself silently, closing her eyes.
She remembered the days when their mistress still played with them, waltzing as three, snacking on milk and cookies, and leaning on her as she fell asleep playing with them. Back then, Francine and Henry were younger, more lively, and able to love. However, those days were long gone. Mistress had left them; grew out of them. She and Henry could no longer waltz together or picnic with each other. They were condemned to their sides of the house, barely able to embrace each other, their strings preventing them from getting any closer. Though they had drifted apart physically, their love for each other was still as strong as ever. Only natural, of course, seeing as we were born for each other.
She knew they both couldn’t bear living like this any longer, and it was only a matter of time before they were driven mad by their love. What Francine didn’t know was how Henry managed to stay so strong. While she was already falling deeper into depression, her husband still remained as positive as ever.
If only I could have your strength, love.
If only.
( I loved you until madness, and I was so very happy.)
A flurry of notes woke Francine from her slumber. “Good morning, dearest!”
Francine smiled sleepily. “Good morning, love.”
“Do you know what today is?” Henry asked, as he continued to hit keys randomly.
“I do.”
“Mistress, happy birthday!” They exclaimed in unison.
The last notes of Henry’s piano resonated within the halls of their home.
A period of silence followed, filled with hopes of their mistress suddenly opening the closet door, letting the sunlight reach into their home again; and a warm, loving embrace between Henry and Francine.
Nothing happened.
Francine smiled weakly. “There’s always next year, isn’t there?”
Henry remained stoic. He turned to his piano, and played their mistress’s birthday song with such passion and ferocity that Francine was worried that something would happen to the piano.
The song ended, and the notes echoed. He faced his wife, and told her, “You know, I’ve finished the lyrics. I’ve finished the song.
“It’s finished.”
Something about his words chilled her to the bone, though she couldn’t really figure out why. Henry suddenly smiled again, though there was something off. “You know, dear, I thought that we could celebrate her birthday a little differently this year.” He hobbled rather unsteadily over to the end of his bench, and fished out a single candle and a match. “And I think I also figured out a way to get us out of these binds.”
She smiled, and nodded. “Of course. How should we do this?”
( Thank you, really. I now understand what this love is. )
Henry’s work bench brought to the center of the room, and Henry had turned Francine’s birdcage into something of a stand for the candle. He lit it, the flame highlighting his wife’s lovely features. “Here,” he gestured. “Take my hands. This flame will burn the ropes, and we’ll be free.” Francine smiled, and grasped her husband’s hands.
“How long will this take?”
“A little while. These are pretty hard to burn through.”
She took a deep breath and thought. Opening her mouth, she was interrupted by Henry’s sudden words- “Want to hear the lyrics?”
She grinned. “Exactly what I was going to ask you.”
“Before I sing it, I just want you to know that though I was born to be your man, I really do love you, dearest. I love you more than anyone or anything in the world. Do you love me too?”
“Of course, love.” She nuzzled her head the best she could into his shoulder, though the strings around her waist prevented her from doing much. “I love you too.”
(Leave me and please, be happy. )
Henry smiled. He opened his mouth, and his deep, smooth voice rang out, filling their house with song. Francine was puzzled over the next few lyrics that came out from his mouth.
“My heart stops, my breaths are dead, you’re leaving me
My heart is freezing, I loved you, I was happy.
I was born as your man, so I loved you endlessly
So I try to resist the urge to cry.”
Wax dripped from the candle, pooling at the bottom. Francine gave her husband a puzzled look, only to find his eyes bright with tears. The flame licked the ropes, and Henry gripped her hands harder.
“The raindrops soak my whole body
I force myself again, look up and look at the sky,
The raindrops fall to my eyes as I think of you
And it replaces the tears I have been holding in
“I loved you until madness, and I was so very happy
The memories of love given to me send you away.”
Tears had started to flow, and Henry’s hands started to shake. It would’ve been unnoticeable, had Francine not held his hands.
“Goodbye, my love, love, love,
Take care, my love, love, love
Even if the tears filling up soak my whole body
Now, goodbye, goodbye, goodbye
Leave me and please be happy
One step, one step, you’re going farther away.
“I silently fill a glass of wine
As I barely hold it with my hands, I think of you and let out a sigh
I drink one glass,
I think of you,
I also swallow the tears I have been holding in.”
Francine, also crying, shook his hands. The fire had now started to burn through the ropes. She could see that as Henry had said, it would take a while. “Henry? Henry!” He shook his head, and continued to sing their mistress’s “birthday song”, his voice wavering slightly.
“I loved you until madness, and I was so very happy
The memories of love given to me send you away.
“Goodbye, my love, love, love,
Take care, my love, love, love,
Even if the tears filling up soak my whole body.
Now, goodbye, goodbye, goodbye
Leave me and please be happy
One step, one step, you’re going farther away.”
“Henry, I’m not going anywhere,” Francine cried, shaking her hands. “Please, talk to me!”
“My heart is cold, I didn’t know love,
Thank you, really. I now understand what this is what love is.
My heart stops, my breathing dies, you’re leaving-”
Smiling sadly, he continued singing.
“Goodbye, my love, love, love
Take care, my love, love, love
Even if the tears filling up soak my whole body
Now, goodbye, goodbye, goodbye
Leave me and please be happy
One step, one step, you’re going farther away.”
The flames now up to their hands, Francine was screaming at him, shaking his hands. “Darling, darling! Look!” Shaking a hand, the burning rope was flung around as she pulled Henry into an embrace. “We’re free! Now, let’s get this fire put out, shall we?”
Henry looked upwards, letting the strings burn.
“The raindrops soak my whole body, I look up at the sky
Even if the tears filling up soak my whole body
Now, goodbye, goodbye, goodbye
Leave me and please, be happy
One step, one step, you’re going farther away.”
He had stopped singing, yet the strings continued burning, reaching their hands. He raised his hands up to examine them, almost admiring the glow. “Dearest, I’ve always loved you. I’m sorry for this, really. I knew that if we did this, we wouldn’t stop burning.” Smiling at her, he whispered, “At least we’ll be together, right?”
Francine finally understood what her husband had done. As she was a doll, she felt no physical pain. However, she did feel emotional pain, and the pain that they had been living with had apparently become too much for both of them. Guess we were both pretty weak, weren’t we? “Of course. Only a small price to pay to bring us together, isn’t it?”
Henry finally smiled, a real smile, for the first time in years. They held each other tightly as the flames continued to consume them, burning through the wood that made them, eating through the strings that kept them bound from each other.
( My heart stops, my breathing dies, you’re leaving me. )
The house that once hid away a doll house burned to the ground. The occupants all managed to survive, as the closet housing the house was located in the attic, far away from where the people were.
Firefighters never really knew what caused the fire- they blamed it on some electrical spark in the attic, setting one of the many flammable objects in there aflame.
Among the ruins laid a blackened doll house, and two dolls. The dolls, burned beyond repair, were found next to a candle. A firefighter who found them had his thoughts, and then dismissed them. He left the marionettes, tangled in an embrace, strings burned through, the blackened faces revealing faint smiles.
( I loved you, and I was happy. )
Somewhere, in another dollhouse, lived two marionettes. A woman in a knee-length cream colored dress, and a man with a light colored suit. They loved each other very much.
In their house, they waltzed to no end, and snacked on milk and cookies in those rare moments they took a break.
“Dearest,” the man asked the woman one day, “Isn’t it lovely how we don’t have those pesky strings anymore?”
rating: g
word count: 5073
a/n: RIGHT so when ft island's "love love love" mv came out i was just like "FFFFFF SO INSPIRED" and idk i got this thing and honestly i don't think it's the worst thing ever but i really liked it and i hope u do 2 (':
but i don't get the names lol cause putting them up rn... is the first time i've reread this in a while. rly cheesy and etc
also bullshit formatting oops dnw to fix atm (ever)
!songfic btw with the random translated lyrics in italics
Henry and Francine loved each other. However, their every moment was controlled by their mistress’s ropes. So one day, they asked each other-
“What if we burned the ropes?”
--
My heart is freezing, yet my love for you still burns.
I was born for you; I loved you until madness and I was so very happy-
But now the memories are burning away.
Good bye, and take care, my love.
( I try to resist the urge to cry. )
In a dollhouse, tucked snugly into the corner of a closet, lived two dolls, Henry and Francine. They were sold as a set, a man and wife in a glorious house. Their house was essentially one large room with two sides- one for Francine and another for Henry. Henry’s side had a piano and a simple workbench- Henry was dressed in a light colored suit. Francine’s had a vanity mirror with makeup strewn across the table, and a birdcage. Francine was dressed in a knee-length cream colored dress, filled with ruffles, and her shoes were simple white ballet flats.
The owner of the house had grew up long ago- as a little girl, she had played with the dolls every day. She filled the couple with happy memories, spending all of her days with them.
As all children, she grew up. When she was older, she set aside the marionettes and house for cell phones and iPods- she set the dolls in their respective sides in her grandmother’s closet, and never touched them again.
The dolls still managed quite well, despite their owner’s disappearance- however, they never managed to touch each other, as the ropes which bound them their bar. They lived the years like this, until the very end.
“Francine, you know, it’s almost the mistress’s birthday.”
Francine nodded, glancing at him through her mirror. “Do you think we should do something? Will she come back?”
Grinning, Henry spread his arms at his piano. “Of course we should! We’ve done this every year. I’m going to compose a song for her this year. I’m sure she’ll love it.” Sitting at the bench, he placed his delicate fingers at the keys. “I’ve already got the beginning figured out.”
He began to dance his fingers along the keys, starting the song out with a simple, music box-like tune, which slowly evolved into a grand, passionate melody.
Francine smiled. “Always the positive one, aren’t you?” She got up from her chair, and started to make her way towards him. “It sounds great.”
Henry stopped his playing, tapping keys. He blushed slightly, and mumbled, “It’s only the beginning, you know.” He turned and got up, and reached an arm out to his wife. “Here- dear, take my hand.”
Francine struggled, and stretched her arm out as much as her joints would let her, only to collapse. Henry gasped, and reached out a bit more, dropping his hand towards her. “Thank you, Henry. If you ask me, it feels like the ropes are getting looser every day.” She rubbed her wrists where her strings were tied, and reached out to her husband.
“Dearest, I know.” He smiled as her hand gripped his. Slowly pulling her up, he said, “I’ll find a way to get us out of these one day.” They leaned into each other’s embrace, the strings straining. He whispered, “And when I do, I promise you we’ll dance like we did back then.”
She smiled sadly, “I know you will.” Raising herself, she softly kissed his lips.
Walking back with slight difficulty, they both took their seats. Francine, playing with the strings connected to her, and Henry, playing away at his piano.
( I was born as your man, so I loved you endlessly. )
Henry smiled to himself. He looked over the sheets a final time, proud with his work. He folded it carefully, perfectly creasing the edges until he had a proper paper airplane. He quickly scribbled a note onto it, and threw it at his wife. It landed in her dress, and Henry went back to his workbench, concocting schemes of escape from their binds.
( The tears are filling up, soaking my whole body. )
Francine awoke to an airplane in her lap. She smiled at her husband, who was once again playing on the piano. She read the note scribbled on the plane and laughed quietly to herself.
Dearest-
I think our mistress would really enjoy this song. Don’t you? We could just dress you up like a bird and put you in that birdcage of yours- you can sing it just like the birds do! I hope you enjoy it. I’m still working on the lyrics. ;)
Henry
She quickly scanned the sheets, reading the notes and humming the song softly.
“Henry~!” He glanced over the piano, still playing the song. “Yes?”
“I think it’s perfect.” She smiled warmly, and asked, “Could I help with the lyrics?”
“Although I’d love you to, I want to surprise you.” He stuck his pinky out into the air, and grinned. “Pinky promise not to peek?”
She laughed, and also stuck her pinky out. “Of course.” Not like I could reach your side anyways. She turned around as Henry went back to playing. She felt the tears in her eyes, and let them spill over, and wept to herself silently, closing her eyes.
She remembered the days when their mistress still played with them, waltzing as three, snacking on milk and cookies, and leaning on her as she fell asleep playing with them. Back then, Francine and Henry were younger, more lively, and able to love. However, those days were long gone. Mistress had left them; grew out of them. She and Henry could no longer waltz together or picnic with each other. They were condemned to their sides of the house, barely able to embrace each other, their strings preventing them from getting any closer. Though they had drifted apart physically, their love for each other was still as strong as ever. Only natural, of course, seeing as we were born for each other.
She knew they both couldn’t bear living like this any longer, and it was only a matter of time before they were driven mad by their love. What Francine didn’t know was how Henry managed to stay so strong. While she was already falling deeper into depression, her husband still remained as positive as ever.
If only I could have your strength, love.
If only.
( I loved you until madness, and I was so very happy.)
A flurry of notes woke Francine from her slumber. “Good morning, dearest!”
Francine smiled sleepily. “Good morning, love.”
“Do you know what today is?” Henry asked, as he continued to hit keys randomly.
“I do.”
“Mistress, happy birthday!” They exclaimed in unison.
The last notes of Henry’s piano resonated within the halls of their home.
A period of silence followed, filled with hopes of their mistress suddenly opening the closet door, letting the sunlight reach into their home again; and a warm, loving embrace between Henry and Francine.
Nothing happened.
Francine smiled weakly. “There’s always next year, isn’t there?”
Henry remained stoic. He turned to his piano, and played their mistress’s birthday song with such passion and ferocity that Francine was worried that something would happen to the piano.
The song ended, and the notes echoed. He faced his wife, and told her, “You know, I’ve finished the lyrics. I’ve finished the song.
“It’s finished.”
Something about his words chilled her to the bone, though she couldn’t really figure out why. Henry suddenly smiled again, though there was something off. “You know, dear, I thought that we could celebrate her birthday a little differently this year.” He hobbled rather unsteadily over to the end of his bench, and fished out a single candle and a match. “And I think I also figured out a way to get us out of these binds.”
She smiled, and nodded. “Of course. How should we do this?”
( Thank you, really. I now understand what this love is. )
Henry’s work bench brought to the center of the room, and Henry had turned Francine’s birdcage into something of a stand for the candle. He lit it, the flame highlighting his wife’s lovely features. “Here,” he gestured. “Take my hands. This flame will burn the ropes, and we’ll be free.” Francine smiled, and grasped her husband’s hands.
“How long will this take?”
“A little while. These are pretty hard to burn through.”
She took a deep breath and thought. Opening her mouth, she was interrupted by Henry’s sudden words- “Want to hear the lyrics?”
She grinned. “Exactly what I was going to ask you.”
“Before I sing it, I just want you to know that though I was born to be your man, I really do love you, dearest. I love you more than anyone or anything in the world. Do you love me too?”
“Of course, love.” She nuzzled her head the best she could into his shoulder, though the strings around her waist prevented her from doing much. “I love you too.”
(Leave me and please, be happy. )
Henry smiled. He opened his mouth, and his deep, smooth voice rang out, filling their house with song. Francine was puzzled over the next few lyrics that came out from his mouth.
“My heart stops, my breaths are dead, you’re leaving me
My heart is freezing, I loved you, I was happy.
I was born as your man, so I loved you endlessly
So I try to resist the urge to cry.”
Wax dripped from the candle, pooling at the bottom. Francine gave her husband a puzzled look, only to find his eyes bright with tears. The flame licked the ropes, and Henry gripped her hands harder.
“The raindrops soak my whole body
I force myself again, look up and look at the sky,
The raindrops fall to my eyes as I think of you
And it replaces the tears I have been holding in
“I loved you until madness, and I was so very happy
The memories of love given to me send you away.”
Tears had started to flow, and Henry’s hands started to shake. It would’ve been unnoticeable, had Francine not held his hands.
“Goodbye, my love, love, love,
Take care, my love, love, love
Even if the tears filling up soak my whole body
Now, goodbye, goodbye, goodbye
Leave me and please be happy
One step, one step, you’re going farther away.
“I silently fill a glass of wine
As I barely hold it with my hands, I think of you and let out a sigh
I drink one glass,
I think of you,
I also swallow the tears I have been holding in.”
Francine, also crying, shook his hands. The fire had now started to burn through the ropes. She could see that as Henry had said, it would take a while. “Henry? Henry!” He shook his head, and continued to sing their mistress’s “birthday song”, his voice wavering slightly.
“I loved you until madness, and I was so very happy
The memories of love given to me send you away.
“Goodbye, my love, love, love,
Take care, my love, love, love,
Even if the tears filling up soak my whole body.
Now, goodbye, goodbye, goodbye
Leave me and please be happy
One step, one step, you’re going farther away.”
“Henry, I’m not going anywhere,” Francine cried, shaking her hands. “Please, talk to me!”
“My heart is cold, I didn’t know love,
Thank you, really. I now understand what this is what love is.
My heart stops, my breathing dies, you’re leaving-”
Smiling sadly, he continued singing.
“Goodbye, my love, love, love
Take care, my love, love, love
Even if the tears filling up soak my whole body
Now, goodbye, goodbye, goodbye
Leave me and please be happy
One step, one step, you’re going farther away.”
The flames now up to their hands, Francine was screaming at him, shaking his hands. “Darling, darling! Look!” Shaking a hand, the burning rope was flung around as she pulled Henry into an embrace. “We’re free! Now, let’s get this fire put out, shall we?”
Henry looked upwards, letting the strings burn.
“The raindrops soak my whole body, I look up at the sky
Even if the tears filling up soak my whole body
Now, goodbye, goodbye, goodbye
Leave me and please, be happy
One step, one step, you’re going farther away.”
He had stopped singing, yet the strings continued burning, reaching their hands. He raised his hands up to examine them, almost admiring the glow. “Dearest, I’ve always loved you. I’m sorry for this, really. I knew that if we did this, we wouldn’t stop burning.” Smiling at her, he whispered, “At least we’ll be together, right?”
Francine finally understood what her husband had done. As she was a doll, she felt no physical pain. However, she did feel emotional pain, and the pain that they had been living with had apparently become too much for both of them. Guess we were both pretty weak, weren’t we? “Of course. Only a small price to pay to bring us together, isn’t it?”
Henry finally smiled, a real smile, for the first time in years. They held each other tightly as the flames continued to consume them, burning through the wood that made them, eating through the strings that kept them bound from each other.
( My heart stops, my breathing dies, you’re leaving me. )
The house that once hid away a doll house burned to the ground. The occupants all managed to survive, as the closet housing the house was located in the attic, far away from where the people were.
Firefighters never really knew what caused the fire- they blamed it on some electrical spark in the attic, setting one of the many flammable objects in there aflame.
Among the ruins laid a blackened doll house, and two dolls. The dolls, burned beyond repair, were found next to a candle. A firefighter who found them had his thoughts, and then dismissed them. He left the marionettes, tangled in an embrace, strings burned through, the blackened faces revealing faint smiles.
( I loved you, and I was happy. )
Somewhere, in another dollhouse, lived two marionettes. A woman in a knee-length cream colored dress, and a man with a light colored suit. They loved each other very much.
In their house, they waltzed to no end, and snacked on milk and cookies in those rare moments they took a break.
“Dearest,” the man asked the woman one day, “Isn’t it lovely how we don’t have those pesky strings anymore?”