Bandom One-shots book 3

Love In Harmony (Breric)

I woke up to the smell of coffee and the gentle sound of a guitar being plucked in the living room. I didn't need to open my eyes to know who it was. Bruce always had this way of playing that made even a simple chord progression sound like the start of something big.

I stretched, the sunlight streaming through the blinds warming my face, and let out a soft groan. It was the start of another day on a rare break between tours, and we were spending it together in our little New York apartment.

"Morning, sleepyhead," Bruce called out from the living room, his deep voice carrying the same warmth as the sunbeams on my face. "Coffee's ready."

I shuffled out of bed, throwing on a t-shirt and some sweatpants, and padded out to find him perched on the couch, guitar in hand, a cup of coffee on the table in front of him. His hair was still a little wild from sleep, and he was wearing one of my old KISS shirts—two sizes too big for him but adorable nonetheless.

"You're spoiling me," I teased, grabbing the coffee and taking a sip.

He set the guitar down, looking up at me with those soft brown eyes that never failed to make my heart do a little flip. "You deserve it."

Four years together, and he still found ways to say things that left me speechless. I plopped down next to him, leaning into his side. His arm automatically came around me, pulling me closer.

"Anything special you wanna do today?" he asked, his fingers absentmindedly tracing patterns on my arm.

I shrugged. "Not really. Just... this."

He chuckled, the sound low and comforting. "We can do that. No plans. Just you and me."

We spent most of the morning like that—talking, laughing, him playing snippets of songs he was working on while I hummed along or tapped out a beat on my thighs. It was easy, the kind of easy that comes with years of knowing someone inside and out.

At some point, I must've dozed off against him, because I woke up to find a blanket draped over me and the soft sound of dishes being washed in the kitchen. I wandered over to find him standing at the sink, sleeves rolled up, hair tied back.

"Are you trying to make me fall in love with you all over again?" I joked, wrapping my arms around his waist from behind.

He turned his head, a playful smile on his lips. "Is it working?"

"Always."

He finished up and turned to face me, his hands still damp as they rested on my shoulders. "I was thinking..."

"Uh oh."

He laughed, leaning his forehead against mine. "Shut up. I was thinking we could go out tonight. That little Italian place you love? I made a reservation."

I blinked up at him, caught off guard. "Bruce, you didn't have to—"

"I wanted to. Besides, it's been a while since we had a proper date."

He was right, of course. Between tours and studio sessions, quiet nights like this were rare, and proper date nights were even rarer.

"Okay," I said softly, reaching up to brush a strand of hair from his face. "Let's do it."

The rest of the day passed in a blur of lazy contentment. By the time we were getting ready for dinner, I felt lighter than I had in weeks. Bruce looked amazing in a simple button-down shirt and jeans, and when he saw me struggling with my tie, he stepped in without a word, his fingers deftly fixing it for me.

"Perfect," he said, adjusting the knot and smoothing the fabric over my chest.

I grinned. "You just wanted an excuse to touch me."

"Guilty," he admitted with a wink.

Dinner was everything I hoped it would be—good food, soft lighting, and Bruce's hand resting on my knee under the table. We talked about everything and nothing, the way we always did, and by the time dessert came around, I was feeling a little giddy from the wine and his smile.

When we got home, he pulled me into the living room, where the guitar still sat on the couch.

"Dance with me," he said, holding out a hand.

I laughed. "To what? There's no music."

"I'll fix that." He picked up the guitar, strumming a soft, familiar tune. It took me a moment to recognize it—our song, the one we'd danced to on a whim at some party years ago.

I couldn't say no to him, not when he was looking at me like that. So I let him lead, swaying gently to the melody, his fingers never faltering on the strings.

By the time the song ended, I was leaning into him, my head resting against his chest.

"Four years," he murmured, his lips brushing against my hair.

"Four amazing years," I corrected, looking up at him.

He smiled, pressing a soft kiss to my forehead. "Here's to many more."

"Many more," I echoed, closing my eyes and letting myself get lost in the warmth of his embrace.

~Love In Harmony~

~today marks the day we lost Eric Carr. Rest in peace to a legend~