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Hey everyone. I'm Erin and I used to be saltforwound on here. I posted a little fic here awhile ago called Goodnight Lights. I decided I'm going to make a chapter story and I have already written out the prologue and the first chapter.
Title: Novembers Eve
Rating: PG-13 for now.
Pairings: Ville/Bam. But right now it's just Ville, later on Bam will come in.
Summary: Ville is alone and needs someone to brighten his days. Who will be that someone?
Disclaimer: Don't know, don't own, didn't happen.
A/N: The prologue and chapter one might be a bit confusing, but it all will work out in later chapters. Enjoy.
PROLOGUE
“Mr. Valo, will you please come up to stand. Hold out your right hand and put it on the bible. Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you God?”
You’ve done it now, Ville. You have really done it now buddy.
“Where were you this very date, November 17, three years ago at exactly 11:15 pm?”
Shh Ville. Keep a straight face. Lie. Lie. Don’t say anything.
“Mister Valo. Mister Valo? Are you okay?”
Fuck fuck. I can’t do this. I really can’t. I feel sick, so sick.
-------
CHAPTER ONE
I want to go home. I am home. Where am I. Dear Ville, you are nothing. You are old, you are aging. No one likes you. Die. Come on Ville, let’s walk. Go outside. Get fresh air so your mind doesn’t take over. Ville, don’t fall asleep, get up, good.
“Fuck. It’s just a daydream, just a silly daydream.” Ville mused to himself. Ville talks a lot to himself because he’s lonely. He’s been living alone since he was 17. He’s now 28. Ville doesn’t know his sexuality. Nor does he care. Sure he’d like to have that special someone with him, but he doesn’t believe in soul mates. See Also: Jealousy of couples.
Ville got up from his old musty bed. He always used the bed as a metaphor to himself. Just laying there all day staring into space. Waiting for someone to be held in his arms. The white sheets reminded him of his pallor skin and the decaying body of the bed was like his frail body, ready to break.
He got dressed in his usual. Jeans and a ripped t shirt and some old sneakers. Ville decided he was going to walk in the nearby park and see what’s happening in his little town. He rarely left his house because there was nothing else for him to do. All day he would sit around, stare at the blank, snowy television screen and watch infomercials. Ville wasn’t an insomniac, he just doesn’t have the desire to sleep. He liked to daydream better anyway.
His neighbors always thought Ville had some kind of mental problem. No one would really know, not even himself. Ville kept to himself a lot. He liked to think and over analyze things. He’d look at his chair and spend hours of creating different situations that chair could be in if it was a real human being.
Ville is a jealous and overprotective whore that is going to the park to meet the daydream he keeps having.
--Like so far?
Title: Novembers Eve
Rating: PG-13 for now.
Pairings: Ville/Bam. But right now it's just Ville, later on Bam will come in.
Summary: Ville is alone and needs someone to brighten his days. Who will be that someone?
Disclaimer: Don't know, don't own, didn't happen.
A/N: The prologue and chapter one might be a bit confusing, but it all will work out in later chapters. Enjoy.
PROLOGUE
“Mr. Valo, will you please come up to stand. Hold out your right hand and put it on the bible. Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you God?”
You’ve done it now, Ville. You have really done it now buddy.
“Where were you this very date, November 17, three years ago at exactly 11:15 pm?”
Shh Ville. Keep a straight face. Lie. Lie. Don’t say anything.
“Mister Valo. Mister Valo? Are you okay?”
Fuck fuck. I can’t do this. I really can’t. I feel sick, so sick.
-------
CHAPTER ONE
I want to go home. I am home. Where am I. Dear Ville, you are nothing. You are old, you are aging. No one likes you. Die. Come on Ville, let’s walk. Go outside. Get fresh air so your mind doesn’t take over. Ville, don’t fall asleep, get up, good.
“Fuck. It’s just a daydream, just a silly daydream.” Ville mused to himself. Ville talks a lot to himself because he’s lonely. He’s been living alone since he was 17. He’s now 28. Ville doesn’t know his sexuality. Nor does he care. Sure he’d like to have that special someone with him, but he doesn’t believe in soul mates. See Also: Jealousy of couples.
Ville got up from his old musty bed. He always used the bed as a metaphor to himself. Just laying there all day staring into space. Waiting for someone to be held in his arms. The white sheets reminded him of his pallor skin and the decaying body of the bed was like his frail body, ready to break.
He got dressed in his usual. Jeans and a ripped t shirt and some old sneakers. Ville decided he was going to walk in the nearby park and see what’s happening in his little town. He rarely left his house because there was nothing else for him to do. All day he would sit around, stare at the blank, snowy television screen and watch infomercials. Ville wasn’t an insomniac, he just doesn’t have the desire to sleep. He liked to daydream better anyway.
His neighbors always thought Ville had some kind of mental problem. No one would really know, not even himself. Ville kept to himself a lot. He liked to think and over analyze things. He’d look at his chair and spend hours of creating different situations that chair could be in if it was a real human being.
Ville is a jealous and overprotective whore that is going to the park to meet the daydream he keeps having.
--Like so far?