In which Dave Mustaine entertains an enemies-to-lovers relationship with a talented guitarist, one of his former band's member sister.
↳ TW: mention of S.A. and substance abuse
↳ favoring chapters helps me a lot!
Started: 10/01/2023
Finished: 05/05...
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The early morning air was crisp, carrying a slight chill as the sky transitioned from darkness to the gentle hues of the blue hour. With each step I took down the sidewalk, my worn-out sneakers met the damp grass on people's front yards. The world around us was deep in slumber, but not us—we were wide awake, wandering through the moments of the night.
Dave walked beside me, and I couldn't help but steal glances at him. His ginger hair was ruffled, and his eyes held a glint of mischief and tenderness. As we walked, conversation flowed effortlessly between us, a desperate attempt to ease the unresolved tension that lingered since our previous encounter.
"I was thinking about cutting my hair shoulder-length again," Dave casually mentioned, breaking the silence.
"Nooo, don't do that," I replied with a hint of whiny fatigue. "You have such nice hair. I'll never forgive you if you do that."
His laughter, soft and lighthearted, filled the early morning air. "You think so? Well, you're the expert, I guess."
"Yeah, you have the nicest hair out of the bunch in my opinion," I admitted. "Don't tell anyone though." I playfully added, trying to distract myself from the magnetic pull I felt towards him.
We arrived at my house, and I turned to face him, feeling his gaze upon me. His eyes, dilated and intense, seemed to look through me. A shiver ran down my spine, and I swallowed nervously, captivated by the emotions swirling in his eyes.
"You can leave me here," I said, offering him an easy way out of our late-night adventure. "I'm sorry for the burden I caused."
"No problem," he replied softly, his eyes still fixed on me. "I just wanted to be sure you got home just fine."
Suddenly, the words that had been haunting me during our walk surfaced again, and I couldn't help but ask, "Dave, what were you about to tell me in the maze?"
His demeanor shifted slightly, and he looked away for a moment, lost in his thoughts. "You really want to know?" he asked, a sheepish smile playing on his lips.
"Yeah?" I replied, my curiosity piqued.
"Have you ever thought that maybe we already met in another life?" he mused, his gaze focused on a distant memory.
The question caught me off guard, and I looked at him with surprise. "No, not really," I admitted, my mind struggling to grasp the idea. "But why were you talking about remembering something?"
"Can you imagine if we had met before?" he continued, seemingly yearning for a reality unburdened by fame and expectations. "No responsibilities, no branding, no press, no industry. Just two young people meeting for the first time, totally unbothered."
The concept seemed surreal and out of place, but there was a strange reassurance in it, like a comforting escape from the overwhelming world we lived in. "That would be cool, I guess," I said, my gaze shyly averting from his enigmatic expression.
