(no subject)
Title: Suojelusenkeli
Author: enkelisuukko.
Pairing: Ville/OFC and Ville/Bam. Sort of.
Rating: I'm guessing PG-13
Summary: Bam's in love with Ville, Ville's oblivious and pining over a chick that's not even really his. It blows, I know. I'm sorry.
Disclaimer: Don't know, Don't own, Never happened, Probably never will...
Warnings: Mentions of cutting. Oh, and it's slightly AU on Bam's side.
It happened again didn’t it? You called me, crying and screaming into the phone. She hurt you again and all you could do was drown your misery in darkness and broken glass. I knew just from the sound of your cries how desperately you wanted to believe in her. How much you wanted to believe that she hadn’t cheated on you. Again. You wanted to believe that it hadn’t been her that you saw leaving your home with another man. So you drowned your sorrows in bottles again, throwing them and shattering them against the wall after they were empty. Even after you promised me the last time that this happened you wouldn’t do it again.
It never fails. She hurts you, you wait until you're drunk and barely able to speak, much less speak English, to call me. I remember finally giving in and taking lessons so I could understand your slurred mix of Finnish, English, and God knows what else. But you always call, and I’m always there to pick up the pieces. In the next couple days when you’re sober and she goes home to you, after leaving her last conquest, you won’t remember this. You won’t remember me comforting you, or the reason I pack my things and jump onto the first flight out to keep you from hurting yourself. You won’t remember the drunken rambling, the fighting as I pull the cracked bottle neck from your hand right before you cut into your wrist, your arm, your ribcage. Anywhere that you felt might be a decent spot to start cutting. You won’t remember me holding you and rocking you back and forth like a small child until you pass out, clutching at my shirt as your burning tears soak into my clothes. You won’t remember my promises that things will get better, that everything will be ok. You won’t remember anything.
You’ll wake up one morning, with me holding you in my arms, and wake me up with a giggle and a quick kiss on the tip of my nose. You’ll ask me why I’m with you and I’ll hide the hurt in my eyes and grin telling you that I felt like a surprise visit. While I’m once again mentally promising you that I’ll come for you if you only ask. You’ll laugh and tell me not to waste my money on a miserable bastard like yourself and I’ll force myself to laugh with you. Still making mental promises. Promising that I’ll stand next to you, supporting you no matter what problems you have. I’ll do everything I can. Just for you. And just like always you’ll smile that sweet smile while telling me that I’m insane when I trail off. Too wrapped up in making promises you’ll never hear. I’ll grin again then hug you tightly.
You’ll drag me out of bed and force me to sit in the bathroom with you as you shower when you realize that you’re still in the same clothes from days before. I’ll sit on the toilet with the lid down closing my eyes and forcing myself not to cry when I hear you singing in the shower while you wash up. You’ll start mumbling about how many miles literally and figuratively between our lives. You’re the rockstar. I’m just the poor soul you met in a bar once. I’ll mumble millions as you wash your hair. That the miles can’t keep us apart from our hearts.
Our grieving hearts. Yours for the love that the woman you love won’t give you. Mine..mine because I can’t stand to see you so utterly miserable. Because I love you. It’s unrequited, but I know in a way you love me too. I think your love for me is more of a best friend type of love if anything. So I’ll sit there wishing you were mine. I’d never treat you the way she does. It’ll be another silent promise. Sealed with love.
We’ll hear a knock on the bathroom door, I’ll take a deep breath wishing that the whore hadn’t come back this time. But she always comes back. You’ll laugh giddily and jump out of the shower moving to the door as quickly as you can, sliding across the wet tile. Ignoring me as you open the door still damp and covered in soap. She’ll have that look on her face...that one that tells you that she’s sorry. That she never meant to hurt you. That she would take it back if she could. That she loves you and she’ll never do it again. You’ll shake your head starting to cry as she tells you that she didn’t mean to sleep with him. That she was drunk. “Please forgive me,” she’ll beg as she starts to cry. You’ll slam the door in her face as your bottom lip starts to quiver, your eyes filled with tears. She’ll scream and I’ll tell her to leave, then escort her from the house as you fall apart once more.
I’ll move back into the house and to the bathroom, finding the door locked as usual. I’ll close my eyes resting my head against the door as I call your name. “Open the door love.” I’ll murmur almost silently as I twist the handle back and forth as far as it will turn while locked. You’ll scream “No,” and I’ll hear glass shatter as you punch the mirror. I’ll fall to my knees listening as you trash the bathroom, cut yourself, unable to do anything to help you. “Open the door Ville. Please.” I’ll beg starting to cry. You’ll open the door after a few minutes and I’ll stand and pull you into my arms holding you as you cry. I’ll do everything that I can to light your life. To make you smile. And it will break my heart.
I’ll comfort you while I’m hurting inside. While I’m loving you. Waiting for you until I can see your smile. Until I see you smile a smile that’s just for me. However long I might have to wait. You’ll mourn the loss of her even though you know that she won’t really be gone. Even though you know that she was never really yours to begin with. Love and loss. You’ll embrace the pain, refuse to let me comfort you until you’ve had a few swallows of whatever booze you have left. If it’s raining you’ll insist that we go for a walk so you can try to hide your tears. I’ll get you dressed in something that will cover your cuts and we’ll go walking, but you can’t hide your tears in the rain.
But for now..for now I’m sitting on the plane, waiting impatiently for takeoff so I can be with you. You once called me suojelusenkeli, in the midst of a drunken stupor and a night of me comforting you. I never knew what it meant, and you refused to tell me. I finally, after two years of listening to you cry over her, found out that it means guardian angel. The plane starts to move and I smile weakly putting my earbuds in and closing my eyes so I can sleep most of the way to you in an attempt of shortening the time I can be there with you. So I can hold your head up when you cry. So I can be there by your side when you need me most. So I can be your guardian angel. I’ll be there. Just wait my darling.
***
Comments and con-crit are loved muchly. So please comment. Even if it's just to tell me that this sucks. :)
Author: enkelisuukko.
Pairing: Ville/OFC and Ville/Bam. Sort of.
Rating: I'm guessing PG-13
Summary: Bam's in love with Ville, Ville's oblivious and pining over a chick that's not even really his. It blows, I know. I'm sorry.
Disclaimer: Don't know, Don't own, Never happened, Probably never will...
Warnings: Mentions of cutting. Oh, and it's slightly AU on Bam's side.
It happened again didn’t it? You called me, crying and screaming into the phone. She hurt you again and all you could do was drown your misery in darkness and broken glass. I knew just from the sound of your cries how desperately you wanted to believe in her. How much you wanted to believe that she hadn’t cheated on you. Again. You wanted to believe that it hadn’t been her that you saw leaving your home with another man. So you drowned your sorrows in bottles again, throwing them and shattering them against the wall after they were empty. Even after you promised me the last time that this happened you wouldn’t do it again.
It never fails. She hurts you, you wait until you're drunk and barely able to speak, much less speak English, to call me. I remember finally giving in and taking lessons so I could understand your slurred mix of Finnish, English, and God knows what else. But you always call, and I’m always there to pick up the pieces. In the next couple days when you’re sober and she goes home to you, after leaving her last conquest, you won’t remember this. You won’t remember me comforting you, or the reason I pack my things and jump onto the first flight out to keep you from hurting yourself. You won’t remember the drunken rambling, the fighting as I pull the cracked bottle neck from your hand right before you cut into your wrist, your arm, your ribcage. Anywhere that you felt might be a decent spot to start cutting. You won’t remember me holding you and rocking you back and forth like a small child until you pass out, clutching at my shirt as your burning tears soak into my clothes. You won’t remember my promises that things will get better, that everything will be ok. You won’t remember anything.
You’ll wake up one morning, with me holding you in my arms, and wake me up with a giggle and a quick kiss on the tip of my nose. You’ll ask me why I’m with you and I’ll hide the hurt in my eyes and grin telling you that I felt like a surprise visit. While I’m once again mentally promising you that I’ll come for you if you only ask. You’ll laugh and tell me not to waste my money on a miserable bastard like yourself and I’ll force myself to laugh with you. Still making mental promises. Promising that I’ll stand next to you, supporting you no matter what problems you have. I’ll do everything I can. Just for you. And just like always you’ll smile that sweet smile while telling me that I’m insane when I trail off. Too wrapped up in making promises you’ll never hear. I’ll grin again then hug you tightly.
You’ll drag me out of bed and force me to sit in the bathroom with you as you shower when you realize that you’re still in the same clothes from days before. I’ll sit on the toilet with the lid down closing my eyes and forcing myself not to cry when I hear you singing in the shower while you wash up. You’ll start mumbling about how many miles literally and figuratively between our lives. You’re the rockstar. I’m just the poor soul you met in a bar once. I’ll mumble millions as you wash your hair. That the miles can’t keep us apart from our hearts.
Our grieving hearts. Yours for the love that the woman you love won’t give you. Mine..mine because I can’t stand to see you so utterly miserable. Because I love you. It’s unrequited, but I know in a way you love me too. I think your love for me is more of a best friend type of love if anything. So I’ll sit there wishing you were mine. I’d never treat you the way she does. It’ll be another silent promise. Sealed with love.
We’ll hear a knock on the bathroom door, I’ll take a deep breath wishing that the whore hadn’t come back this time. But she always comes back. You’ll laugh giddily and jump out of the shower moving to the door as quickly as you can, sliding across the wet tile. Ignoring me as you open the door still damp and covered in soap. She’ll have that look on her face...that one that tells you that she’s sorry. That she never meant to hurt you. That she would take it back if she could. That she loves you and she’ll never do it again. You’ll shake your head starting to cry as she tells you that she didn’t mean to sleep with him. That she was drunk. “Please forgive me,” she’ll beg as she starts to cry. You’ll slam the door in her face as your bottom lip starts to quiver, your eyes filled with tears. She’ll scream and I’ll tell her to leave, then escort her from the house as you fall apart once more.
I’ll move back into the house and to the bathroom, finding the door locked as usual. I’ll close my eyes resting my head against the door as I call your name. “Open the door love.” I’ll murmur almost silently as I twist the handle back and forth as far as it will turn while locked. You’ll scream “No,” and I’ll hear glass shatter as you punch the mirror. I’ll fall to my knees listening as you trash the bathroom, cut yourself, unable to do anything to help you. “Open the door Ville. Please.” I’ll beg starting to cry. You’ll open the door after a few minutes and I’ll stand and pull you into my arms holding you as you cry. I’ll do everything that I can to light your life. To make you smile. And it will break my heart.
I’ll comfort you while I’m hurting inside. While I’m loving you. Waiting for you until I can see your smile. Until I see you smile a smile that’s just for me. However long I might have to wait. You’ll mourn the loss of her even though you know that she won’t really be gone. Even though you know that she was never really yours to begin with. Love and loss. You’ll embrace the pain, refuse to let me comfort you until you’ve had a few swallows of whatever booze you have left. If it’s raining you’ll insist that we go for a walk so you can try to hide your tears. I’ll get you dressed in something that will cover your cuts and we’ll go walking, but you can’t hide your tears in the rain.
But for now..for now I’m sitting on the plane, waiting impatiently for takeoff so I can be with you. You once called me suojelusenkeli, in the midst of a drunken stupor and a night of me comforting you. I never knew what it meant, and you refused to tell me. I finally, after two years of listening to you cry over her, found out that it means guardian angel. The plane starts to move and I smile weakly putting my earbuds in and closing my eyes so I can sleep most of the way to you in an attempt of shortening the time I can be there with you. So I can hold your head up when you cry. So I can be there by your side when you need me most. So I can be your guardian angel. I’ll be there. Just wait my darling.
***
Comments and con-crit are loved muchly. So please comment. Even if it's just to tell me that this sucks. :)