Heaven Tonight; chapter 4
Title: Heaven Tonight
Rating: PG-13 now, NC-17 later
Pairing: Vam, duh.
Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot.
Summary: The year is 1730, Ville is the Prince of Helsinki, Bam is a stalker (kind of)
chapter one, two and three.
http://lovetehjonathan.livejournal.com/
As if the fact that she thought that she looked good could conceal the issue of her missing son.
Ville ran jumped out of the carriage, stumbling slightly on the wet cobblestones. The people on the street were more than surprised at seeing The Prince behave this way. In fact, I think they were surprised to see him at all! Ville coughed as he stood up-his asthma acting up-but he ignored it, and began running. He wanted to get as far away as he could from this place. He just didn’t care anymore, if he had to live on the streets rather that live the way he was now with Silvia, then so be it!
He thought he could make it farther, but his asthma was making it harder and harder to breathe, so he stopped at a street corner to catch his breath. As he leaned up against the wrought-iron fence, he realized that the bottoms of his pants were soaked through to his skin from the early rain’s puddles. He didn’t know how far away he was either, but frankly, he didn’t even care. He finally felt free for the first time, out on the streets without anyone to correct him, or boss him around. It all felt so surreal and carefree. He loved it.
Alas, as soon as he caught his breath, he was running again. The farther he ran, the less the weight seemed to be on his shoulders. His eyes darted around, frantic and searching. He thought about the boy, wondering if he could find him.
What was his name? …Brandon, no…he called himself Bam.
Bam Margera.
Ville had never heard of him before, he couldn’t be royalty, not with that whole spying act. The fact that he was in fact, a he didn’t bother Ville at all. Ville seriously was so tired of being surrounded by images, he wanted life, and the fact that Bam was a boy didn’t effect him the slightest. It was what was on the inside that counted, and frankly, Ville was glad he was a boy because if he did find him, Bam was going to be his. And he would happily ruin the royal family and live out his life in the wonders of the countryside, with his boy. Oh yes, now that sounded like a real treat to Ville, with his boy. It was so taboo, considered so wrong, that made it so appealing to him. He was going to do it. He was going to find Bam.
By now Ville had stopped at a corner shoppe, to ask the owner about the individual nicknamed Bam when he saw him. Him, this Brandon person step into a pub. Ville stopped dead in his tracks, like a deer in the headlights. He almost fell over while he was ogling him, but soon snapped out of it and rushed forward to fetch Bam.
He sprinted to the pub, the hard soles of his pointed shoes clapping against the ground, their suede exterior absolutely ruined from the puddles. Ville lunged forward to catch the door, yanking it through jerkily, something Princes didn’t do.
By this time, everyone was staring at him, the man behind the counter that was cleaning the glasses had his mouth open a little bit. Ville ignored it, intent on finding Bam. His eyes darted around, looking for him. Finally, his eyes finally lay upon him. Bam’s eyes stared back into his with a frightened sheen.
Spying was illegal.
Spying got you beheaded.
Bam slammed his drink down on the lacquered table and bolted for the back door. Ville followed him, determined to catch him. However Bam’s thoughts were different. He thought that The Prince wanted to kill him, no…wait, princes didn’t kill people, they ordered someone to do it for them…but then again, princes wouldn’t chase down the people they supposedly wanted dead…would they? Bam was utterly confused, he had no idea what to do, so he continued running, Ville hot on his trail.
Blinded by fear, Bam turned a corner and ran smack into a street vender’s cart, the impact knocking him out as he hit the ground with a loud thud! his legs and arms splaying out before him. Ville watched him from afar, his legs still running toward the fallen body of his ‘watcher’.
Ville had stopped running now, he was looking down at Bam, there was a steady little trickle of blood creeping over the side of his face. Ville’s breath was erratic from running and his heart was beating so hard he could see his chest shaking. The street vender was staring at him, eyes wide. He had hair like ropes, something Ville was unfamiliar with.
“…Is that yours?” The vender asked, motioning to Bam.
“What?” Ville snapped his head toward the new speaker, not terribly aware of everything at the moment. “…Oh yes, yes, that belongs to me.” His hand making a light fanning motion towards his face.
“Okay…my…my name is Linde. Do you…want to buy a flower?” The vender asked, holding up a Purple trumpet bloom.
“…Oh yes, yes of course, sure.” Ville said, waving his hand, handing over the equivalent of about 200 U.S. dollars, the smallest amount of money he had in his pockets. Linde the Street Vender stared at the money in Ville’s outstretched hand, appalled.
“Ah-Are you sure?” Linde stuttered, he had never seen so much money in his entire life.
“Yes, I’m sure. Give me that bouquet of roses.” Ville requested, pointing to his choice. Linde handed him the flowers, grabbing the money hastily. Ville took the flowers and turned his gaze to Bam again, he was still down. Ville wanted to wake him, but in fear of Bam running away again, he resisted. Instead he called a taxi carriage, the driver giving him a greedy look, knowing that Ville had a lot of money.
So Ville told the footman to load Bam into the carriage, the man didn’t hesitate, the idea that Ville would pay him more popping into his head. Ville slid into the seat next to Bam, careful not to nudge him as the footman closed the door.
CLIFF HANGA.