Love's Requiem [Ville Valo/OC]

Your Sweet 666

Some time during the following afternoon, we managed to tear ourselves from each other. A comfortable silence had fallen over the small cabin, only broken by the quiet crackling of the fire, and the gentle strums across the strings of an acoustic.

Ville sat indian-style on the bed playing his guitar, while humming different tunes to complement his harmonies. Every once in a while, he'd stop to scribble, what I guess must have been music notes, accords whatever you call it, down in a little note pad. I decided to pull out my drawing gear, and placed myself by the dining table to face him. I let his peaceful playing take me away into my own creative bubble, and I observed him until he began appearing on the paper in front of me.

Since I started drawing again, I couldn't put a pencil to paper without drawing him. It was impossible not to.

My heart swelled, every time I lifted my head to look at him. The light of the fire reflected off his auburn hair, creating golden streaks. It hid half of his face, as his eyes observed his fingers moving across the fretboard with calculated precision. I was so at peace, here with him. I loved the feeling of being able to share these quiet moments with him, to sit in silence, as I drew and he played.

He was so preoccupied with his guitar, that he didn't notice all the intense, and analyzing glances I sent his way. I was almost done when he changed positions, and lied down on the bed to lazily continue playing, with his guitar resting on his stomach. I smiled at myself, and decided to finish it from memory. I had memorized every part of him, down to the small crinkles that formed around his eyes when he smiled, and that glimmer he got in his eye when he looked at me.

The playing ebbed out, and was replaced with his light rhythmic snoring. I held a hand to my mouth to stifle a laugh at the sight of him. He'd fallen asleep with his guitar still in his hands, while his mouth hung open, and even still, he looked breathtaking.

I noticed how his guitar was sliding out of his loose grip towards the edge of the bed, to the beat of his breathing, and I slowly stood up to silently tiptoe over to him. I tried, with the best of my ability, to cautiously slide the guitar out from under his heavy arms, as to not pull him from his peaceful slumber. I almost had it freed from him, when his hand dropped over the strings, and produced a lovely loud strum. It broke the silence in the room like a gunshot. I clutched his guitar tightly in my hands, as my shoulders hiked up to my ears while my face scrunched together, and I pursed my lips.

Loud snorting pulled me from my awkward stance. "Oh love, it looks like you're in pain," and then he, of course, had to break out laughing. "So! Are you gonna play me a song Elvis?"

Suddenly I wanted the whack him over the head with his guitar. "Actually! I was trying to save your guitar from dropping to the floor." I shook the guitar in my hand, in emphasis. "But yea, sure I'll serenade you, then you can sing backup with your snoring." I retorted, rather pleased with my own quick come-back.

"Thanks," he grinned. However, his expression suddenly turned serious as my mocking words registered. "Wait! I don't snore!" He said in defense as he sat up, and wiped the sleep from his eyes.

"You most certainly do! And it's really charming too." I continued, as I exaggeratedly imitated his snoring.

His lips fused together in a tight line, and he his eyes narrowed at me. His face was priceless.

The side of my mouth quirked up, so I quickly twirled around, and placed the guitar safely on the floor. "But don't worry, it was cute." I nonchalantly spoke. "The drooling wasn't though."

He cleared his throat, and I could faintly hear how he was frenziedly wiping around his mouth. He huffed, probably, when he realized that I was just fucking with him, and that it was working.