Oneshots und Gedanken

...And...

~Nothing But Thieves Vampire FF~

„You're behaving strange, you know that?" Dom asked after the concert. His eyes focused Joe, who was wiping the sweat off his face with a towel.

"What makes you think that?" he asked, drinking from a bottle of water.

"Dunno. You're quiet," Dom suggested.

"He's right," James agreed. "You're quiet."

In fact that was nothing new. Phil and Dom were the two who made the most noise. They were always making fun of anything. But Conor knew what they meant. Joe was quiet. More than ever. The singer just sat there, drinking his water, exhausted from singing.

"I'm sorry." Joe's voice was just a whisper, floating through the bright room. The night shone through the window like another world, the world of darkness, absolute blackness.

The others hadn't expected an answer like that and now they didn't know what to say. There was just silence. A silence that only made this loneliness, that slept inside Conor's chest, grow.

Sometimes for Conor it was just another concert in another city he didn't know. Maybe those thoughts were wrong but in the end it was all the same. As much as he loved singing and making his fans happy it was always the same people, the same songs, the same hotel. And some nights he just wasn't able to feel it, this glorious mysterious vibe that he got when visiting another city.

In addition he was tired, so tired. But nothing could make him sleep and he was beginning to feel really, really bad. Tired, useless. He didn't talk, just sang. But this time the other band members seemed to be more concerned about Joe who wasn't that good either. Conor understood that but anyway he was so lonely. He just longed for another one of Joe's silent looks into his eyes, wanted to feel this connection again, wanted to feel understood again.

He put on a warm and fluffy jacket and additionally wrapped himself in the blanket. The blonde man opened the door that led to the balcony, a cold breath of air struck his cheeks. It was a shared balcony with access from two rooms but anyway Conor was surprised when he saw Joe sitting on the other side on a small chair. He wasn't wearing at least a t-shirt, his upper body was all naked, pale skin shimmering in the fading moonlight.

"Hey there," Joe said and he sounded surprised, as if he hadn't expected Conor to come outside.

"Gosh, you must be freezing!" Conor exclaimed without even saying hello.

"No. Actually no," the guitarist replied. "So you can't sleep? Again?"

"Yeah," Conor replied softly. He stepped towards the edge of the balcony to get a better look at the city. He liked city lights. They always were so calming.

He felt Joe standing up, appearing next to him. For a while neither of them said a word. They were just looking at the lights or at something that was hidden way behind the city, the world.

"So... You were in my room," Joe said and it came out of nowhere.

"What?"

"A few days ago. You came into my room. I thought you wanted to talk or something but then you just left," Joe explained. His hair was waving in the cool air.

"Well..." Conor shrugged. Suddenly he felt really uncomfortable. "I thought you were asleep."

"I never sleep," was all Joe answered. His voice sounded so sad but there was another emotion behind it. Something like an urge, something really hurtful.

"You don't?" Conor didn't understand.

Joe sighed. His hands grabbed the handrail, knuckles white. He had beautiful hands, soft guitar hands. Something was going on inside him and to be honest it scared Conor. He would never admit it but his stomach was cramping.

"I'm just so, so hungry," Joe whispered. His voice was more hissing than actual sound.

"Well then eat," Conor suggested with a nervous laugh. What was he talking about?

Suddenly he felt Joe's hands grabbing his shoulders. He turned around automatically, looking shocked into Joe's eyes. The gates to his soul. They were furious and in pain. Dark, no, red. It was hard to watch. Joe was breathing so hard.

"What is wrong with you?" Conor asked. He was scared but also concerned. He didn't want his friend to be like that, to feel the way he felt. Because whatever it was, it must be very painful.

Without a word Joe leaned toward Conor's neck. His lips touched his artery, gently. There was almost no touch at all. But Conor couldn't move. His hands clutched the blanket, his breath turned into fading clouds, his heart beat so fast, Joe must've felt the blood pulsing through his vein.

And then it all made sense. The song, the lyrics, the video. No sleep, no heartbeat. Conor couldn't breathe.

"You're a vampire, right?" he asked.

"I am," Joe affirmed.

It was so cold. Seconds felt like ages. Joe's lips still flew over Conor's neck, shivering and unsteady.

"Are you going to kill me?" Conor's voice was almost nothing. A feather blown away by wind. He wasn't afraid. After all, Joe was his best friend.

(Fortsetzung folgt.)