and She Said (![[info]](http://p-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} bloodied_quill) wrote,@ 2007-03-15 15:13:00 |
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Title: I'll sing without you
Category: fan fiction, one-shot
Genre: drama
Rating: PG
Date: February-March, 2007
Pairing: sakura x hyde
Word count: 489
POV: First person (hyde)
Author's Note: "THE GHOST IN MY ROOM" is the b-side of "niji", L'Arc's first single after Sakura left the band. The fic title is a line from X JAPAN's song "Longing".
What does the lover of every musician ask?
Will you write a song for me, Baby?
You asked that of me sometimes. You’d come up to me casually, your arms around my shoulders warm, protective more than possessive, your smile and tone challenging me to guess if you were serious or playing. I couldn’t tell which; I’d only laugh nervously, changing my answers every time to see if you’d ever change the question.
I don’t write things that are so personal.
I could never put such things into words. Call me selfish; I don’t want to share.
It would never be as beautiful as you are, Darling.
But your question never failed, though your responses were as variable as mine. A ruffle of my hair, whether it was short or long; a pinch of my waist through thick clothes, thin clothes, no clothes; the faintest hints of a blush behind a laughing smile; pouts and protests; imitations of childish pleading; the most convincing casual indifference—I wouldn’t say yes, and you wouldn’t hear no.
I must have driven you crazy some nights, keeping you up late, testing out new tunes and new lyrics on you. You never complained, though; even when my late-night songwriting sessions deprived you of sleep, in the morning you smiled at me bleary-eyed over the kitchen table and a cup of coffee and you offered the kindest of compliments. And even when I started learning to know your lies from your truths, I knew you were genuine in your admiration.
It was the nights when you didn’t come, when you forgot our plans, when you forgot I even existed, when you weren’t there to ask me to write a song for you, that I put pen to paper and let the ink spill, the pen weeping where I could not. I wrote about you, me, us, the things I saw in you that kept me waiting up at night even though I knew that, if you came at all, I’d wish I hadn’t been awake to see your arrival. And in the morning, you’d try to smile and tell me it’d be different the next time. And the next time, I’d tear up those pages and try again.
It wasn’t until you stopped coming that I stopped destroying my pitiful attempts to capture you in words. What else could I have held you with? Not with my arms, not with my emotions, not with satin sheets and blackout curtains. Your presence filled the pages where it used to fill the space beside me; I drank from your coffee cup as I chased the traces you’d left behind.
You became the phantom that whispered in my dreams, whispered in my waking, had me spinning in circles dizzier and dizzier but unwilling to stop the ride.
Will you write a song for me, Baby?
I will sing it for you, Darling; for the ghost in my room.
Category: fan fiction, one-shot
Genre: drama
Rating: PG
Date: February-March, 2007
Pairing: sakura x hyde
Word count: 489
POV: First person (hyde)
Author's Note: "THE GHOST IN MY ROOM" is the b-side of "niji", L'Arc's first single after Sakura left the band. The fic title is a line from X JAPAN's song "Longing".
What does the lover of every musician ask?
Will you write a song for me, Baby?
You asked that of me sometimes. You’d come up to me casually, your arms around my shoulders warm, protective more than possessive, your smile and tone challenging me to guess if you were serious or playing. I couldn’t tell which; I’d only laugh nervously, changing my answers every time to see if you’d ever change the question.
I don’t write things that are so personal.
I could never put such things into words. Call me selfish; I don’t want to share.
It would never be as beautiful as you are, Darling.
But your question never failed, though your responses were as variable as mine. A ruffle of my hair, whether it was short or long; a pinch of my waist through thick clothes, thin clothes, no clothes; the faintest hints of a blush behind a laughing smile; pouts and protests; imitations of childish pleading; the most convincing casual indifference—I wouldn’t say yes, and you wouldn’t hear no.
I must have driven you crazy some nights, keeping you up late, testing out new tunes and new lyrics on you. You never complained, though; even when my late-night songwriting sessions deprived you of sleep, in the morning you smiled at me bleary-eyed over the kitchen table and a cup of coffee and you offered the kindest of compliments. And even when I started learning to know your lies from your truths, I knew you were genuine in your admiration.
It was the nights when you didn’t come, when you forgot our plans, when you forgot I even existed, when you weren’t there to ask me to write a song for you, that I put pen to paper and let the ink spill, the pen weeping where I could not. I wrote about you, me, us, the things I saw in you that kept me waiting up at night even though I knew that, if you came at all, I’d wish I hadn’t been awake to see your arrival. And in the morning, you’d try to smile and tell me it’d be different the next time. And the next time, I’d tear up those pages and try again.
It wasn’t until you stopped coming that I stopped destroying my pitiful attempts to capture you in words. What else could I have held you with? Not with my arms, not with my emotions, not with satin sheets and blackout curtains. Your presence filled the pages where it used to fill the space beside me; I drank from your coffee cup as I chased the traces you’d left behind.
You became the phantom that whispered in my dreams, whispered in my waking, had me spinning in circles dizzier and dizzier but unwilling to stop the ride.
Will you write a song for me, Baby?
I will sing it for you, Darling; for the ghost in my room.
