Love's Requiem [Ville Valo/OC]

Fortress of Tears

During the past three weeks, I had discovered that Ville was quite the hermit himself. We found no problem in agreeing to stay indoors, in the private comforts of my apartment. I think the press also played a part in it. He was a big deal in Finland, and people would often snap pictures of him, and he'd end up on the cover of gossip tabloids. I was actually surprised that no one had found out about us yet. Then again, we hadn't really been out and about in public together much, besides those few times, and even then, it had been dark. We had been lucky. It wasn't like we wanted to keep it a secret, well I kind of did, but I guess we were just equally alike when it concerned about keeping our private life, private.

I had come to love Ville's dark sense of humor. His sarcasm was so on-point, that even I had a hard time keeping up sometimes, and I'm Danish, sarcasm is what we do. Of course, he meant that the Finnish did it better. So we agreed to disagree on that one.

I hadn't been to see his place yet, but he told me that he lived in a tower, of some sorts, and Ville being Ville, I thought he was full of shit. I thought it was just one of his typical sarcastic antics; trying to make me fall for it, only to tease me about it later. I mean, did he really expect me to believe that he lived in a tower? However, he was being rather persistent in trying to convince me. He was so cute when he got all animated, with big arm movements, and hand gestures to convince me that it was true. He'd flip his shit, and laugh hysterically into his hands in frustration, every time I'd call him Rapunzel, because she too, lived in a tower.

We could do that back and forth on so many topics, teasing each other until our faces turned blue. It always resulted in some pretty heated make out sessions, like we were both fighting for dominance, not just for the kiss but for getting the last word in.

Ville had been so understanding, and so incredibly patient about taking everything slow, and would wait until the right time with me. He even told me about when he'd lost his virginity, which also was late compared to 'normal convention', and how he wished that he had waited. It had apparently been a very rushed and messy event. He even winced when he talked about it.

When we weren't joking around, we got to know each other. The subject of my family, the life I had before I moved, and why I moved, came up a couple of times. I skillfully steered us around the topic, guiding him to talk about his family, the band and tours, anything else really. Or I'd just start throwing jokes around. That was one of the better tactics actually. It always worked like a charm, maybe because he hadn't seen through it, or seen through me yet.

I wasn't sure if he noticed that I kept pivoting, maybe he did, and didn't what to push it, like he sensed how I uncomfortable I'd get. I did the same when the topic about how school had been for me, and whatnot, came up. I was so embarrassed about the whole thing, all of the things, and I was scared that he'd think less of me, or even pity me if he knew. So I'd rather keep it too myself, play my cards safe, thinking that it was better that way... or so I told myself. You'd be surprised at how easily you can make yourself believe your own lies, if you just repeat them enough times. I'd know.

It turned out he came from a warm home, it's the best way I can describe it. With loving and supportive parents, no abuse or a destructive alcohol spring flowing through the household, infecting everything and everyone in its wake. When he talked about his family, I became more, and more painfully aware of how my childhood stood out in stark contrast to his, and how too many things, which never should have happened in my childhood, had happened. It just caused me to divert the conversation away from my situation even more, fearing that he'd never be able to understand... No one would understand. It had been gradually turning up the volume of that familiar negative voice, lurking in the dark corners of my mind, and it was becoming unbearably hard to keep it under control. What only fueled it even more, was the growing high I had when I was with him, because I had learned that highs will, and must be, followed by an equal low. That's just how it is...