hardrock69
in
__vam
Fic- Everyone has a story (short story)
Title: Everyone has a story
Raiting: Pg-R (for now)
Genre: Romance
Pairing: Your kidding...right?
Chapters: two
POV: Ville
Summary: Everyone has a story...even me. Sometimes stories don't have happy endings...and sometimes they do.
Disclaimer: DK, DO, NH
Part 1
I sat on that couch for what seemed like hours after you left to your room. I made sure not to move a muscle until I was positive that you had shut yourself in your room, with her, so that I wouldn’t have to face you in the hallway or anything. I don’t think I’d be able to survive the question in your eyes. It wasn’t until I heard the distant click of your door closing that I got up from the couch, still not really believing all that had happened in the span of less than an hour. My body was numb, as I stepped to the side of the couch, and grabbed my luggage case, the withering rose still in my tight grasp. I had originally intended on giving it to you when I told you my feelings...but that thought quickly slipped away in the disbelief and confusion of my earlier confession.
I lifted my luggage case, and carefully stepped to the stairs, not wanting to make any sound that would make anyone come out of their rooms. Although, I doubt anyone would. Not at three in the morning, at least. I looked up to the top of the stairs, feeling my heart sink that much more. Why was nothing in life easy? Why was it always difficult and paired with so much heartache? Surely love can’t be this impossible. Can it?
I let a silent sigh escape my lips before finally lifting one foot, setting it down on the creaking stairs. I winced as each stair I climbed gave it’s little creak of objection. I finally let out a sigh of air I hadn’t even known I was holding while I climbed the stairs. I swallowed hard, my eyes briefly landing on your door, before falling back down to the floor. And I placed one foot in front of the other, heading towards the guest room.
The worst part about this whole mess was that I thought I had already gotten over the hard part. The part where I came out and told you how I felt about you. But I was sorely mistaken. I hadn’t even scratched the surface. Now I was suffering the hard part. The part of not knowing what was going to happen. The part where I had to wait at least a full eight hours before we could talk again. And even then, I’m almost positive that there will hardly be any talking done because of all that will be going on in the house. What with everyone who lives here and all. And I have a gut feeling that she won’t let us be alone for too long.
I finally reach the door to the guest room, now feeling a little out of place as I opened the door. I closed my eyes and carefully walked in, shutting the door behind me. What was I doing? What the hell was going through my mind when I decided to come all the way here to tell you how I felt. Jesus. Love is complicated.
I take in a deep breath, an aroma of cleanliness and oldness filling my nostrils. As if it had been years since anyone had occupied this room. I slowly made my way to the bed, setting down my suitcase, and finally letting go of my rose, tossing it carelessly on the bed. It’s not as if I needed it anymore.
I stood awkwardly in the room for about two minutes, not entirely sure what to do now. I mean, I could try to sleep, but I highly doubt sleep would come easily for me tonight. Not when there was this unanswered question hanging in the air like a dark rain cloud, getting ready to unleash it’s hell. So I opt for the slightly less complicated task. Where I take out my old, trusty notebook, sit at the window, and write.
I twirl a pen in my hand, my notebook opened to a clean crisp page. But I somehow lack the creative flow to actually write anything. You’d think that right now the juices would be overflowing...seeping out of my brain faster than I could write. But no. Not right now. I’m just drawing a blank. Words seem to be failing me right now. So instead, I just gaze out the window, watching the dark sky as snow begins to fall. My eyes follow one snowflake at a time, watching as it floats down, twirling carelessly in the air, before being lost against it’s silvery white landscape. It’s a beautiful sight. One that I will never get tired of.
I lean forward, resting my head against the chilly glass, and I close my eyes. I imagine myself somewhere other than in your house. Because surely there are much better places I could be right now. But the more I think about it, the more I wouldn’t have it any other way. At least now, I’ve finally come out with my feelings. Now it’s your turn Bammie. It’s your turn to hold it inside and toss and turn until you finally decide exactly what is going to happen to us. It’s in your hands now.
I slightly jump when I hear the doorknob to my room turn, a soft click of the door, making my head whip around as the door slowly opens. For a moment I’m lost. My heart has picked up it’s fiery speed, and my stomach as begun to turn flips again. Is it really possible that you’ve already made up your mind? Are we going to talk now and try to sort out this mess so it doesn’t affect our friendship?
I stand up, gripping my notebook in front of me as a sort of shield against you, because right now, you can throw me anything. And I want to be slightly prepared. My eyes open wide and my heart skips a beat when a slim figure appears in my doorway, closing the door behind her.
“What the fuck are you doing in my room?” My temper flairs when I realize it’s her, standing in my room. Not you.
“I just wanted to warn you.” Her words are icy, punching me in the face as they fly right towards me.
“Warn me about what?” I clench my teeth together. Everyone knew we weren’t the best of friends. As a matter of fact, I think everyone knew we hated each other with a passion. Everyone except you.
“Look, it’s not going to work. So just stop playing your games and leave, before it’s too late.” She spat venomously at me. I squinted my eyes and took in a sharp breath.
“What are you talking about?” I hissed, calling on all of my will to keep me in one place and not do something I might regret later.
“I know why you’re here. I know what you’ve told him. And it’s not going to work.” She stared at me, her eyes piercing the darkness and burning my skin.
“Get the fuck out!” I almost shouted.
“You can’t have him! He’s mine. I won him fair and square!” She shot back. It took all my resolve to not fly to her and give her a good whack in the face.
“Shut the fuck up. Don’t talk about Bam like you won him at a festival. The only reason he’s with you is because he can’t see the conniving little bitch you really are.” I hissed at her. She took a step forward. The air around her seemed to go rigid as she lifted a hand to rest on her hip.
“He will never love you. Can’t you see that?” She shook her head in a pitying sort of way, “You’ve lost. Now get on with your fucking life and leave him alone. That’s all he wants.” She smirked, before turning and leaving the bedroom.
I clenched my teeth together and squeezed my eyes shut. My heart was beating wildly in my chest and my stomach was churning. I loathed her with ever fiber in my being. But I couldn’t ignore what she had said. Because she had put into words my worst fears.
I heard the padding of footsteps being lost in the distance as I assume that she as already reached your room. How dare she come in here and tell me I’ve lost. I mean, you can’t really think I’d believe that you sent her. It’s just not like you. You never send a messenger to do your work. You were always one to dive head first, before anyone else. So she has to be lying. She just has to be.
I fell my knees going week, and I back up to the bed, allowing myself to fall down when the backs of my knees hit the edge of the bed. I bounce slightly, my eyes still transfixed on the door in front of me. I still can’t believe she had the audacity to come in here, disturb my peace, and rant to me about what’s going on between me and Bam. Not her. She has nothing to do with this.
My eyes finally fall to the floor, and suddenly I feel heavy and warm. My limbs are tired and my body just lays itself down, without my permission. I adjust myself on the bed, and start to feel my eyelids droop. I’m slipping away. The room is no longer in my vision. The darkness has consumed me. I can feel myself slipping....
*~*
I can feel a line of warmth, spreading across my face. A bright light almost blinding me as I keep my eyes closed. I groan in displeasure and turn, trying to escape the warm, bright light. But a crumpling of what sounds like paper, makes my eyes flutter open.
I try to focus blurry eyes, and they end up crossing, taking in lines and curves...ink and paper, crumpled under my face. I pull back, and find a letter, addressed to me in messy chicken-scratch handwriting. I pull back some more, adjusting myself into a sitting position and lift the letter, blinking my eyes several times as the black letters on the page blur once or twice.
My eyes quickly scan the page and I take in a sharp breath, noticing that at the bottom of the short letter, it’s signed Bam. I take a deep breath and start at the beginning, holding onto that breath. Holding onto my bleeding heart.
Ville,
I’m not sure when all of this went wrong. I’m not sure when I lost control of everything. But I do know that this is tearing me up inside. It’s eating away at me, and I can’t stand not being in control of my feelings.
You have always been a good friend. One of my best. But that’s all you have ever been to me. A best friend.
I know that probably isn’t what you want to hear right now. Hell, I really don’t like saying it, because it puts these defined lines on us. It makes everything black and white with no room for the grey area of ‘what if’s’ and ‘what could be’s’. But I just need you to know exactly how I’m feeling right now.
I’m sorry if this isn’t the way you wanted me to tell you my decision. I know you probably wanted to talk things through...but I just don’t think I can handle that right now. Not when all this apprehension and uneasiness will surround every word we speak to each other.
I think that for right now, it would be best if you just left. Give us some room so we can straighten things out in our heads until we’re on a level playing field again. Then maybe we can try and go back to being just friends.
-Bam
I stared at the letter in shock, my mouth hanging open and my hands trembling. I could almost hear the sickening crack of my heart as it broke that much more. I thought I was in pain before this. But now I realize I was severely wrong.
I don’t think there are enough words in any language to describe exactly how I’m feeling right now. The best way to put it is my body has gone numb. My stomach is churning to the point of where I feel like I’m going to throw up. My chest is aching because of the splinters of my heart digging deep into it. My eyes are on fire, the stinging of tears pricking them to the point of agonizing discomfort. And I can’t seem to form one simple thought at this point. I can’t think at all.
Then I see red. Anger, fury boiling inside me. I crumple the letter in my hands and rest my forehead on top of them, as I feel the tears finally spill from my eyes.
This can’t be happening. I knew it was a long shot with you. I knew that it would be very unlikely that you would feel the same, but I never thought you would dive so low as to let me know your feelings in a letter. A cold, impersonal letter. I stood from the bed, the crumpled letter still in my hands. I still have on the same clothes from last night, very wrinkled and disheveled. And my hair is probably in knots right now, but I don’t care. I just want to get out of here. Leave your life...perhaps forever.
I grab my notebook, sniffling as the tears continued to stream down my cheeks. My eyes caught sight of the wilted rose I had thrown on the bed the previous night. It’s been crushed, the wilted petals lying helplessly around the stem. I let out a silent sob at the irony of it. I turn my eyes from the broken rose, and grab my luggage case and head for the door, taking one last look at this room that I will probably never occupy again.
I clench my teeth together and turn from the room, closing the door softly behind me. No need to wake anyone up right now. I wouldn’t want people to find the cool, confidant Ville Valo in tears because he was shot down by his heart’s desire. I descend the stairs quietly, quickly trying to get away from the pain.
The aroma of coffee hits me as I pass the kitchen. But I don’t stop. I can’t stop now. I have to get away. I have to run away.
“Vil?” I stop dead in my tracks, my back facing the owner of the voice. I feel my heart drop to the floor, shattering into a million tiny pieces. “Vil, you leavin?” The voice asks again. I try not to laugh manically, thinking how absurd the question sounded coming from you. After the letter I received this morning, I was almost sure you would’ve known that I would be leaving. As soon as possible. “Ville? What’s wrong?” I heard the same uneasiness from last night in your voice again. And I have a sudden urge to turn around and slap the confused look you probably have on your face right now. Instead, I turn slowly, doing nothing to cover up the tears that still fall down my cheeks.
My eyes fall on you, and you look...horrible. Your hair is tangled and unbrushed, your eyes have dark circles under them, and your skin looks paler than normal. You’re wearing the same black sweat pants from last night, and a plain white shirt. You have a coffee mug in your hands, and your blue eyes are wide as they stare at me. “Ville, what happened? What’s wrong?” You ask, quickly setting down your coffee mug and stepping closer to me. I flinch, moving back and crumpling the letter I still have in my hands even more. I clench my teeth together and almost decide to run. But I stay put, when you face takes on a hurt look, and you stop coming closer. “Why are you crying?” You ask softly.
“Are you fucking serious?” I snarl, feeling slightly better when I see you visibly wince at my words.
“Yes,” You whisper. I scoff, and throw the crumpled letter to your face, watching as it bounces off you and falls to the floor. You stare at me in shock, and slowly bend down to retrieve the letter. “What is this?” You ask, with a slight innocence in your voice. It takes all of my will not to slap you at the absurdity of the question.
“Fucking read it.” I hiss angrily. Your eyes briefly connect with mine before they begin to scan the crinkled page. Your confused look turns to one of doubt quickly followed by anger. Your eyes dart back and forth as you finish the letter, your sapphire eyes almost burning into the page.
“Is this a joke?” You ask quietly, as you raise your fiery eyes to mine.
“What?” I ask in disbelief.
“Did you write this?” You ask, lifting the paper towards me.
“Are you fucking kidding?”
“I didn’t write this. Who did?” You voice was a little louder, slightly echoing in the kitchen.
“How the fuck am I supposed to know. It was there when I woke up!” I shot back, feeling the anger and confusion start to boil beneath my skin. Your bright eyes stared at me for a few seconds longer before realization set in.
“Don’t leave,” You instructed firmly, then you disappeared, running up the stairs. I set down my luggage case and watched you as you turned the corner, and then it finally dawned on me. You didn’t write it. As a matter of fact, the whole letter didn’t sound like anything you would ever say. It just wasn’t you. I let out a sharp gasp. I knew exactly who had wrote that letter.
“Now get the fuck out!” I heard your booming voice echo through house.
“But Bammie,” it was her voice.
“Don’t fucking call me that! Ever!” you shouted at her. My mouth hung open and I mentally slapped myself. How could I have believed it. “Get out!” You shouted one last time. I saw a bundle of blonde hair and dark clothes rush past me and out the front door, barely recognizable.
“I am so sorry,” I turned when I heard your voice. My tears had long since stopped, but my cheeks were still wet.
“She wrote it?” I asked dumbly.
“Yeah. She was...afraid she’d lose me. But she made the fucking mistake. She shouldn’t have done that to you.” You quickly explained, pacing back and forth in the kitchen. I kept quiet, watching you pace. I felt an enormous amount of weight lift off my shoulders. I was almost excited at the prospect that maybe that wasn’t how you felt after all. Silence overtook us for a few moments.
“You know, Ape use to tell me that sometimes the one thing you’re looking for is the one thing you can’t even see.” Bam half smiled, his eyes glued to the floor, “It’s funny actually. She knew how I felt before I did. I guess it’s mother’s intuition.” He shrugged lightly, his blue eyes finally lifting to mine.
“What are you saying?” I tried to break his code. Tried to understand his difficult language. But my mind just wouldn’t work. I don’t think I could recite the alphabet at this point.
“Ville, I...” You started, lifting your eyes to mine. “I’ve never thought about you...the way you think about me.” You explained. I felt my heart drop again. God. I don’t think I can do this again.
“Bam,”
“Let me finish, please.” You pleaded, your eyes burning into mine. So I took a deep breath and stood still, preparing myself for heartache all over again. “It’s true, you know.”
“What’s true?” I asked quietly, crossing my arms in front of my chest.
“I couldn’t see what I wanted...even though it was right in front of me.” I watched you carefully, still very unsure of what was happening. Then you stepped forward, hesitantly at first, but then with more conviction with each step you took towards me. My eyes grew wide and my heart all but stopped in my chest. “It’s true, I’ve never thought about you like that. But after last night...after all the thinking I did,” you were now only inches from me, your body heat crashing against mine, warming me in ways I never thought possible. “I decided that you were right.”
“Right about what?” I whispered, hypnotized by your bright eyes.
“About love. It does make sense. I’ve only ever felt the way I do with you, the way I feel when I’m with someone I’m in love with.” My hurt practically burst through my chest, and I could barely form any coherent thoughts.
“Are you saying you’re in love with me?”
“I’m saying that I do feel something for you. More than I feel for my other friends. And I would like to try...and see where it takes us.” You lifted an unsure hand to cup my cheek.
“Bam,” I whispered, my eyes fluttering shut as I melted into the warmth of your hand on my cheek.
“I can’t promise you it’ll be easy Ville. And I can’t promise you that everything will work out.” You whispered, your face getting closer to mine. “But I will promise you that I’m going to try, and that I’ll be true to my heart. And right now, my heart is saying that I want to be with you.”
“That’s all I want. That’s all I ask for,” I whispered before leaning forward and finally pressing my lips to yours, savouring their feel and taste. I burned it into my memory so that every passing day I could call on it, and just close my eyes and think of you. I wrapped my arms around your waist, pulling you impossibly closer to me as you deepened the kiss.
If I were to die, right here right now. I wouldn’t be afraid. Because nothing will ever replace the feeling I have, being wrapped in your arms in the most intimate embrace.
So I ask one last time. Have you ever been in love? I have. It’s absolutely wonderful.
Raiting: Pg-R (for now)
Genre: Romance
Pairing: Your kidding...right?
Chapters: two
POV: Ville
Summary: Everyone has a story...even me. Sometimes stories don't have happy endings...and sometimes they do.
Disclaimer: DK, DO, NH
Part 1
I sat on that couch for what seemed like hours after you left to your room. I made sure not to move a muscle until I was positive that you had shut yourself in your room, with her, so that I wouldn’t have to face you in the hallway or anything. I don’t think I’d be able to survive the question in your eyes. It wasn’t until I heard the distant click of your door closing that I got up from the couch, still not really believing all that had happened in the span of less than an hour. My body was numb, as I stepped to the side of the couch, and grabbed my luggage case, the withering rose still in my tight grasp. I had originally intended on giving it to you when I told you my feelings...but that thought quickly slipped away in the disbelief and confusion of my earlier confession.
I lifted my luggage case, and carefully stepped to the stairs, not wanting to make any sound that would make anyone come out of their rooms. Although, I doubt anyone would. Not at three in the morning, at least. I looked up to the top of the stairs, feeling my heart sink that much more. Why was nothing in life easy? Why was it always difficult and paired with so much heartache? Surely love can’t be this impossible. Can it?
I let a silent sigh escape my lips before finally lifting one foot, setting it down on the creaking stairs. I winced as each stair I climbed gave it’s little creak of objection. I finally let out a sigh of air I hadn’t even known I was holding while I climbed the stairs. I swallowed hard, my eyes briefly landing on your door, before falling back down to the floor. And I placed one foot in front of the other, heading towards the guest room.
The worst part about this whole mess was that I thought I had already gotten over the hard part. The part where I came out and told you how I felt about you. But I was sorely mistaken. I hadn’t even scratched the surface. Now I was suffering the hard part. The part of not knowing what was going to happen. The part where I had to wait at least a full eight hours before we could talk again. And even then, I’m almost positive that there will hardly be any talking done because of all that will be going on in the house. What with everyone who lives here and all. And I have a gut feeling that she won’t let us be alone for too long.
I finally reach the door to the guest room, now feeling a little out of place as I opened the door. I closed my eyes and carefully walked in, shutting the door behind me. What was I doing? What the hell was going through my mind when I decided to come all the way here to tell you how I felt. Jesus. Love is complicated.
I take in a deep breath, an aroma of cleanliness and oldness filling my nostrils. As if it had been years since anyone had occupied this room. I slowly made my way to the bed, setting down my suitcase, and finally letting go of my rose, tossing it carelessly on the bed. It’s not as if I needed it anymore.
I stood awkwardly in the room for about two minutes, not entirely sure what to do now. I mean, I could try to sleep, but I highly doubt sleep would come easily for me tonight. Not when there was this unanswered question hanging in the air like a dark rain cloud, getting ready to unleash it’s hell. So I opt for the slightly less complicated task. Where I take out my old, trusty notebook, sit at the window, and write.
I twirl a pen in my hand, my notebook opened to a clean crisp page. But I somehow lack the creative flow to actually write anything. You’d think that right now the juices would be overflowing...seeping out of my brain faster than I could write. But no. Not right now. I’m just drawing a blank. Words seem to be failing me right now. So instead, I just gaze out the window, watching the dark sky as snow begins to fall. My eyes follow one snowflake at a time, watching as it floats down, twirling carelessly in the air, before being lost against it’s silvery white landscape. It’s a beautiful sight. One that I will never get tired of.
I lean forward, resting my head against the chilly glass, and I close my eyes. I imagine myself somewhere other than in your house. Because surely there are much better places I could be right now. But the more I think about it, the more I wouldn’t have it any other way. At least now, I’ve finally come out with my feelings. Now it’s your turn Bammie. It’s your turn to hold it inside and toss and turn until you finally decide exactly what is going to happen to us. It’s in your hands now.
I slightly jump when I hear the doorknob to my room turn, a soft click of the door, making my head whip around as the door slowly opens. For a moment I’m lost. My heart has picked up it’s fiery speed, and my stomach as begun to turn flips again. Is it really possible that you’ve already made up your mind? Are we going to talk now and try to sort out this mess so it doesn’t affect our friendship?
I stand up, gripping my notebook in front of me as a sort of shield against you, because right now, you can throw me anything. And I want to be slightly prepared. My eyes open wide and my heart skips a beat when a slim figure appears in my doorway, closing the door behind her.
“What the fuck are you doing in my room?” My temper flairs when I realize it’s her, standing in my room. Not you.
“I just wanted to warn you.” Her words are icy, punching me in the face as they fly right towards me.
“Warn me about what?” I clench my teeth together. Everyone knew we weren’t the best of friends. As a matter of fact, I think everyone knew we hated each other with a passion. Everyone except you.
“Look, it’s not going to work. So just stop playing your games and leave, before it’s too late.” She spat venomously at me. I squinted my eyes and took in a sharp breath.
“What are you talking about?” I hissed, calling on all of my will to keep me in one place and not do something I might regret later.
“I know why you’re here. I know what you’ve told him. And it’s not going to work.” She stared at me, her eyes piercing the darkness and burning my skin.
“Get the fuck out!” I almost shouted.
“You can’t have him! He’s mine. I won him fair and square!” She shot back. It took all my resolve to not fly to her and give her a good whack in the face.
“Shut the fuck up. Don’t talk about Bam like you won him at a festival. The only reason he’s with you is because he can’t see the conniving little bitch you really are.” I hissed at her. She took a step forward. The air around her seemed to go rigid as she lifted a hand to rest on her hip.
“He will never love you. Can’t you see that?” She shook her head in a pitying sort of way, “You’ve lost. Now get on with your fucking life and leave him alone. That’s all he wants.” She smirked, before turning and leaving the bedroom.
I clenched my teeth together and squeezed my eyes shut. My heart was beating wildly in my chest and my stomach was churning. I loathed her with ever fiber in my being. But I couldn’t ignore what she had said. Because she had put into words my worst fears.
I heard the padding of footsteps being lost in the distance as I assume that she as already reached your room. How dare she come in here and tell me I’ve lost. I mean, you can’t really think I’d believe that you sent her. It’s just not like you. You never send a messenger to do your work. You were always one to dive head first, before anyone else. So she has to be lying. She just has to be.
I fell my knees going week, and I back up to the bed, allowing myself to fall down when the backs of my knees hit the edge of the bed. I bounce slightly, my eyes still transfixed on the door in front of me. I still can’t believe she had the audacity to come in here, disturb my peace, and rant to me about what’s going on between me and Bam. Not her. She has nothing to do with this.
My eyes finally fall to the floor, and suddenly I feel heavy and warm. My limbs are tired and my body just lays itself down, without my permission. I adjust myself on the bed, and start to feel my eyelids droop. I’m slipping away. The room is no longer in my vision. The darkness has consumed me. I can feel myself slipping....
*~*
I can feel a line of warmth, spreading across my face. A bright light almost blinding me as I keep my eyes closed. I groan in displeasure and turn, trying to escape the warm, bright light. But a crumpling of what sounds like paper, makes my eyes flutter open.
I try to focus blurry eyes, and they end up crossing, taking in lines and curves...ink and paper, crumpled under my face. I pull back, and find a letter, addressed to me in messy chicken-scratch handwriting. I pull back some more, adjusting myself into a sitting position and lift the letter, blinking my eyes several times as the black letters on the page blur once or twice.
My eyes quickly scan the page and I take in a sharp breath, noticing that at the bottom of the short letter, it’s signed Bam. I take a deep breath and start at the beginning, holding onto that breath. Holding onto my bleeding heart.
Ville,
I’m not sure when all of this went wrong. I’m not sure when I lost control of everything. But I do know that this is tearing me up inside. It’s eating away at me, and I can’t stand not being in control of my feelings.
You have always been a good friend. One of my best. But that’s all you have ever been to me. A best friend.
I know that probably isn’t what you want to hear right now. Hell, I really don’t like saying it, because it puts these defined lines on us. It makes everything black and white with no room for the grey area of ‘what if’s’ and ‘what could be’s’. But I just need you to know exactly how I’m feeling right now.
I’m sorry if this isn’t the way you wanted me to tell you my decision. I know you probably wanted to talk things through...but I just don’t think I can handle that right now. Not when all this apprehension and uneasiness will surround every word we speak to each other.
I think that for right now, it would be best if you just left. Give us some room so we can straighten things out in our heads until we’re on a level playing field again. Then maybe we can try and go back to being just friends.
-Bam
I stared at the letter in shock, my mouth hanging open and my hands trembling. I could almost hear the sickening crack of my heart as it broke that much more. I thought I was in pain before this. But now I realize I was severely wrong.
I don’t think there are enough words in any language to describe exactly how I’m feeling right now. The best way to put it is my body has gone numb. My stomach is churning to the point of where I feel like I’m going to throw up. My chest is aching because of the splinters of my heart digging deep into it. My eyes are on fire, the stinging of tears pricking them to the point of agonizing discomfort. And I can’t seem to form one simple thought at this point. I can’t think at all.
Then I see red. Anger, fury boiling inside me. I crumple the letter in my hands and rest my forehead on top of them, as I feel the tears finally spill from my eyes.
This can’t be happening. I knew it was a long shot with you. I knew that it would be very unlikely that you would feel the same, but I never thought you would dive so low as to let me know your feelings in a letter. A cold, impersonal letter. I stood from the bed, the crumpled letter still in my hands. I still have on the same clothes from last night, very wrinkled and disheveled. And my hair is probably in knots right now, but I don’t care. I just want to get out of here. Leave your life...perhaps forever.
I grab my notebook, sniffling as the tears continued to stream down my cheeks. My eyes caught sight of the wilted rose I had thrown on the bed the previous night. It’s been crushed, the wilted petals lying helplessly around the stem. I let out a silent sob at the irony of it. I turn my eyes from the broken rose, and grab my luggage case and head for the door, taking one last look at this room that I will probably never occupy again.
I clench my teeth together and turn from the room, closing the door softly behind me. No need to wake anyone up right now. I wouldn’t want people to find the cool, confidant Ville Valo in tears because he was shot down by his heart’s desire. I descend the stairs quietly, quickly trying to get away from the pain.
The aroma of coffee hits me as I pass the kitchen. But I don’t stop. I can’t stop now. I have to get away. I have to run away.
“Vil?” I stop dead in my tracks, my back facing the owner of the voice. I feel my heart drop to the floor, shattering into a million tiny pieces. “Vil, you leavin?” The voice asks again. I try not to laugh manically, thinking how absurd the question sounded coming from you. After the letter I received this morning, I was almost sure you would’ve known that I would be leaving. As soon as possible. “Ville? What’s wrong?” I heard the same uneasiness from last night in your voice again. And I have a sudden urge to turn around and slap the confused look you probably have on your face right now. Instead, I turn slowly, doing nothing to cover up the tears that still fall down my cheeks.
My eyes fall on you, and you look...horrible. Your hair is tangled and unbrushed, your eyes have dark circles under them, and your skin looks paler than normal. You’re wearing the same black sweat pants from last night, and a plain white shirt. You have a coffee mug in your hands, and your blue eyes are wide as they stare at me. “Ville, what happened? What’s wrong?” You ask, quickly setting down your coffee mug and stepping closer to me. I flinch, moving back and crumpling the letter I still have in my hands even more. I clench my teeth together and almost decide to run. But I stay put, when you face takes on a hurt look, and you stop coming closer. “Why are you crying?” You ask softly.
“Are you fucking serious?” I snarl, feeling slightly better when I see you visibly wince at my words.
“Yes,” You whisper. I scoff, and throw the crumpled letter to your face, watching as it bounces off you and falls to the floor. You stare at me in shock, and slowly bend down to retrieve the letter. “What is this?” You ask, with a slight innocence in your voice. It takes all of my will not to slap you at the absurdity of the question.
“Fucking read it.” I hiss angrily. Your eyes briefly connect with mine before they begin to scan the crinkled page. Your confused look turns to one of doubt quickly followed by anger. Your eyes dart back and forth as you finish the letter, your sapphire eyes almost burning into the page.
“Is this a joke?” You ask quietly, as you raise your fiery eyes to mine.
“What?” I ask in disbelief.
“Did you write this?” You ask, lifting the paper towards me.
“Are you fucking kidding?”
“I didn’t write this. Who did?” You voice was a little louder, slightly echoing in the kitchen.
“How the fuck am I supposed to know. It was there when I woke up!” I shot back, feeling the anger and confusion start to boil beneath my skin. Your bright eyes stared at me for a few seconds longer before realization set in.
“Don’t leave,” You instructed firmly, then you disappeared, running up the stairs. I set down my luggage case and watched you as you turned the corner, and then it finally dawned on me. You didn’t write it. As a matter of fact, the whole letter didn’t sound like anything you would ever say. It just wasn’t you. I let out a sharp gasp. I knew exactly who had wrote that letter.
“Now get the fuck out!” I heard your booming voice echo through house.
“But Bammie,” it was her voice.
“Don’t fucking call me that! Ever!” you shouted at her. My mouth hung open and I mentally slapped myself. How could I have believed it. “Get out!” You shouted one last time. I saw a bundle of blonde hair and dark clothes rush past me and out the front door, barely recognizable.
“I am so sorry,” I turned when I heard your voice. My tears had long since stopped, but my cheeks were still wet.
“She wrote it?” I asked dumbly.
“Yeah. She was...afraid she’d lose me. But she made the fucking mistake. She shouldn’t have done that to you.” You quickly explained, pacing back and forth in the kitchen. I kept quiet, watching you pace. I felt an enormous amount of weight lift off my shoulders. I was almost excited at the prospect that maybe that wasn’t how you felt after all. Silence overtook us for a few moments.
“You know, Ape use to tell me that sometimes the one thing you’re looking for is the one thing you can’t even see.” Bam half smiled, his eyes glued to the floor, “It’s funny actually. She knew how I felt before I did. I guess it’s mother’s intuition.” He shrugged lightly, his blue eyes finally lifting to mine.
“What are you saying?” I tried to break his code. Tried to understand his difficult language. But my mind just wouldn’t work. I don’t think I could recite the alphabet at this point.
“Ville, I...” You started, lifting your eyes to mine. “I’ve never thought about you...the way you think about me.” You explained. I felt my heart drop again. God. I don’t think I can do this again.
“Bam,”
“Let me finish, please.” You pleaded, your eyes burning into mine. So I took a deep breath and stood still, preparing myself for heartache all over again. “It’s true, you know.”
“What’s true?” I asked quietly, crossing my arms in front of my chest.
“I couldn’t see what I wanted...even though it was right in front of me.” I watched you carefully, still very unsure of what was happening. Then you stepped forward, hesitantly at first, but then with more conviction with each step you took towards me. My eyes grew wide and my heart all but stopped in my chest. “It’s true, I’ve never thought about you like that. But after last night...after all the thinking I did,” you were now only inches from me, your body heat crashing against mine, warming me in ways I never thought possible. “I decided that you were right.”
“Right about what?” I whispered, hypnotized by your bright eyes.
“About love. It does make sense. I’ve only ever felt the way I do with you, the way I feel when I’m with someone I’m in love with.” My hurt practically burst through my chest, and I could barely form any coherent thoughts.
“Are you saying you’re in love with me?”
“I’m saying that I do feel something for you. More than I feel for my other friends. And I would like to try...and see where it takes us.” You lifted an unsure hand to cup my cheek.
“Bam,” I whispered, my eyes fluttering shut as I melted into the warmth of your hand on my cheek.
“I can’t promise you it’ll be easy Ville. And I can’t promise you that everything will work out.” You whispered, your face getting closer to mine. “But I will promise you that I’m going to try, and that I’ll be true to my heart. And right now, my heart is saying that I want to be with you.”
“That’s all I want. That’s all I ask for,” I whispered before leaning forward and finally pressing my lips to yours, savouring their feel and taste. I burned it into my memory so that every passing day I could call on it, and just close my eyes and think of you. I wrapped my arms around your waist, pulling you impossibly closer to me as you deepened the kiss.
If I were to die, right here right now. I wouldn’t be afraid. Because nothing will ever replace the feeling I have, being wrapped in your arms in the most intimate embrace.
So I ask one last time. Have you ever been in love? I have. It’s absolutely wonderful.