New fic. I hardly ever do this, but this one has prologue.
Title: Swanheart - Prologue: Light
POV: Third
Rating: PG-13 - NC-17
Pairings: Beicca, Minde, eventual VAM & eventual LINBU
Summary: Ville Valo and Bam Margera go to school together and are in the same circle of friends. But when a fight between two mutual friends brings them closer together, what happens?
A/N: AU. Completely and utterly AU. OC, too, there are several OCs.
Disclaimer: DK, DO, NH, okay? Swanheart belongs to Nightwish. Any OCs are of my own creation, so don't steal them! xD
Light.
Emerald-green eyes were opened and rubbed. Feet hit the floor as sixteen-year-old Ville Valo folded his pale, lithe figure out of bed and threw open his closet.
“What to wear?” He muttered, taking in the contents of his wardrobe, mostly black, with splashes of crimson and dark purple.
He stood, just in boxers, gazing at his clothes, for a good ten minutes, before picking out tight black jeans, a long black trench coat and a crimson shirt. The boots, lying by his bed went with everything he owned.
As he pulled the clothes on, he wondered why had had agonized over what to wear, considering all he was doing was going to school.
He ran a comb through his hair and applied a thin strip of eyeliner to his bottom lids.
God, I’m always so over-analytical! He thought, as he pulled on his boots and slung his school bag over his shoulder.
He left his bedroom, without bothering to pull up the bedclothes, and went downstairs to where his mother was making breakfast and his father was seated at the table reading the paper.
“Huomen, papa,” Ville said, taking his place at the table. “Huomen, mama.”
Ville’s father grunted and didn’t lift his eyes from the paper.
“Morning, Viltsu,” his mother said, placing bacon and eggs in front of both Ville and his father.
“Kiittää te, Anita,” Ville’s father said, folding and placing aside the paper.
“Thanks mama,” Ville grinned, diving for the bacon and eggs.
Anita sat opposite her husband with her own plate of food. “Kari, have you washed the car?”
Kari sighed and put down his fork. “Yes, dear. You have only been asking me to do that for the past month.” He turned to Ville. “When you’re finished, I want you to go and wake your brother.”
“No need,” The voice of a nine-year-old boy sounded from the door to the kitchen.
Anita smiled as her youngest son, Jesse, got into his chair and demanded food with his eyes. She obliged, dishing out the last of the bacon and eggs.
Ville finished eating and caught sight of the clock, it was seven-thirty and he had promised to be at school by eight. He got up, dumped his plate in the sink and left the house, waving absently at his parents and brother as he went.