It's Knelling for Me
Confessions: English is not my native language, and I'm nowhere near perfect at it; but I couldn't resist the urge of writing a HIM slash by letting my weakness get in the way. So here I am and here's my little HIM slash; I just hope you can look pass the mistakes I may have made while writing this…till I find someone to beta this for me. Oh, and I'm new to all these HIM fanfictions, and don't know much of Ville Valo much to my shame and frustration. I just know that he is the sexiest man ever walked the planet, and has the deepest, most sensual voice, and makes the best music…and oh, yeah, his picture has been captured while kissing some guys [Hot!] and if that isn't the best motivation for writing a HIM slash, I don't know what is. [winkwink]
Summery: life has never been easy on the lead singer of HIM; this is a story of how Ville's life has been put into a test of strength , hope, and faith. Just how much can he handle before surrendering to his miserable fate?
Warnings: angst, sexual tension, suicide, rape, character death…and guys, this is slash, which means boy/boy kissing and stuff. (though I'm not sure why this should be considered as a warning!)
Disclaimer: not mine; as if I could be that blessed to own someone like Ville! He owns himself…and I'm quite happy just to own some posters of him…and making out with them!
A/N: btw, this little poem-thingy is by my humble self. I just wanted to try writing sth similar to HIM lyrics, which is not near as good, but I did my best. I even used some words Ville is more fond of in his lyrics! Yeah, tell me what you think.
~ It's Knelling for Me ~
Upon the fine edges of his skin
Breathes a sin so fatal
And with the pulse of his hand
It beats to the rhyme of doom
Beneath the silkiness of his touch
Lies a pain so lethal
And with the hitches in his breaths
It reaches for the mournful gloom
Through the warmness of his veins
Runs a nightmare so wild
And with the tears of his blood
It drips into the nape of solitude
Against the thumping of his heart
Knells an emptiness so wide
And with the dead leaves of shame
It falls from the belfry with gratitude
And destiny blows over the open wounds
All scars interlaced
Of agony a heart engraved
In the dark the paths retraced
Chapter 1: I'm thousands lies away from me
The man's hand was shaking slightly as his pale, slender fingers circled around a small, plastic bottle and squeezed it tightly till the knots turned white and the shaking subsided a little. Beads of cold sweat were lined up on his forehead, wetting his hair, making the long, dark, silky strands stick to his clammy skin. His shoulders were tensed and stiff, and his back was starting to hurt due to his posture of sitting hunched over the table, while pressing the bottle so tight his nails were digging into the flesh of his palm, trying both to stop his shaking and hiding what he was holding onto for dear life. Everything around him was just a blurry blender of unfamiliar sounds and shifting shadows that were looming over him, engulfing him so wholly like a man trying to make himself as much a part of his lover as the skins, fleshes and bones would allow. And the young man was now a part of the shadows, so lost and drown into them that he didn't even feel the warmth of a hand upon his cold cheek.
"Ville, you ok, man?"
The muscles in Ville's body twitched as the voice broke through his trance and panic rose into the pit of his stomach as he looked up to see the concerned face of his long-time friend, Mige. He wanted to say no, oh god how badly he wanted to be honest with his best friend and say no, that he was not ok, that he had not been for a long time, that he needed help, cause he certainly couldn't pull it through all on his own…but all he did was to nod slowly, as his fist became tighter around the bottle to hide it from those dark eyes of the bass player. Mige gave his tensed shoulders a warm, kindly squeeze but didn't leave him as he was praying for him to do. He pulled out the chair opposite him and collapsed heavily into it, putting his hand over Ville's left one which was resting on the table. Mige's hand felt so hot on his own cold skin, and a shiver ran down his spine. Mige noticed the slight trembling, as well as the unhealthy coldness of Ville's skin and his frown deepened in concern.
"Ville, what's wrong? Are you…hiding something from me?"
Ville could understand why Mige was so puzzled over the possibility of him trying to hide something from his best friend. He never did; he didn't need to. If there was only one person Ville could confined in without any doubt or regrets afterwards, that was Mige. But there were things Ville could not even admit to himself. How could he tell Mige about things he had yet to come to terms with himself?
"Mige, I'm fine. You're just overreacting…again."
Ville could not bring himself to meet those dark eyes of Mige, probably filled with a hurt, accusing expression at that moment. In his hunched position, head titled down, he felt defeated; defeated in a war against his own self. A lose/lose war.
"Am I?" Mige's voice carried the accusation Ville could not face in his eyes. "I watch you, you know? You have been sitting here, all by yourself for two hours straight now. And you haven't moved even for once. If this is what you call normal, then yeah, you're right. I'm just overreacting."
It was so strange, hearing such dark sarcasm in a voice that always made Ville laugh because of making the funniest jokes in the world. Ville suddenly felt so guilty, on top of every other wretched feeling he had at that moment, for ruining such light, joking voice to sound so dark and grave.
"I'm fine." He repeated, but seeing Mige's hard expression he quickly added, "it's just…I guess it's just a weird case of…homesickness."
Mige just raised one of his brow, obviously not believing him.
"Eh…not exactly homesickness…I just don't feel comfortable around these people; I feel so out of place." Ville lied smoothly, letting his tension and panic make his words stutter, making him sound restless and confused instead of terrified and tensed. This time, Mige seemed to buy his act, since his face softened into a warmer, more understanding expression.
"Oh, Ville, you don't need to extract yourself from them like you don't fit in their lot. This was what we were waiting for, for so long, wasn't it?" Ville could only nod while his eyes were fixed upon the wooden table. "Besides, all these American fans like you to the point of obsession. Just…give them a chance. Give yourself a chance, will you? I hate to see you so depressed and alone, when you should be anything but."
Ville managed a tight smile, but his heart felt like a rock in his chest while doing so. He hated lying to Mige, but he hated it even more when Mige believed him. Right now, he was so lost into self-loathing that he wanted nothing but curl up under his bedcover and shut everyone and everything out; he wished he could just shut himself out as well.
"Eh…yeah, you're right. I hate to be depressed and lonely myself." He chuckled dryly, his breath caught at the end and he coughed to force his lungs into drawing oxygen in. Mige gave him a concerned look.
"You sure you ok?" Ville nodded, cheekbones flushed in guilt. "Why don't you go upstairs and take a nap? We have three hours left to our next gig. I'll wake you up in two hours, what do you say?"
Ville managed to raise his head to lock weary, green eyes with warm, dark brown ones. He loved Mige like a brother, so much that sometimes it amazed him how deep his affection for the strong-built man ran in his heart. He loved him so much that it hurt him lying to him, hiding things from him, avoiding him…leaving him. The sting in his eyes brought him back to the present and he smiled to keep the un-welcomed tears at bay.
"Yeah, I feel kinda tired. I…I just go to our room and eh…take a nap." Ville gave Mige another faked smile and brought his hand up to run it through his hair in a nervous fashion. But as he did so, something slipped from his grasp and rolled onto the floor. Both men's eyes followed the small bottle as it stopped in front of Mige's feet and they both went to grab it at the same time. Mige was quicker and nearer to the bottle and Ville's hand only brushed Mige's warm one. There was a horrified expression on Ville's face and a suspicious one on Mige's. He held the bottle in front of his eyes and started to read the name of the drug on the label. Ville found his voice before Mige could open the bottle.
"It's just Theo-dur1; my asthma medications."
Mige's fingers tightened around the bottle and his suspicious expression melted into a soft, caring and concerned one.
"Why are you carrying your medications around? Are you…expecting an attack?"
Now with his hand being free and the bottle in Mige's grasp, Ville ran his fingers though his sweat-drenched locks and let out a heavy sigh. He couldn't look at Mige as he spoke.
"Err…last night I measured my PEFR2, just in case…you know, I didn't want to be unprepared if any attacks came during the festival and ah…my PEFR fell. So basically, it means that my airways are starting to narrow, which can be a warning to an up-coming attack. Yeah, I thought I have some Theo-dur, you know, to relax the muscles around my airways."
By that point, Ville was feeling so wretched and miserable he prayed the earth would split open and swallow him right then and there. Mige nodded in understanding and placed the bottle in Ville's hand. Ville's fingers were too numb to wound round the plastic bottle of his asthma medication. He felt tears welling up in his eyes and bowed his head to conceal them from Mige's searching eyes.
"Do you want me to come with you?"
Ville shook his head and tried to look nonchalant. He wasn't sure whether he had managed to pull it off or not.
"No, no, it's ok. I just take some pills and go straight to bed. Come wake me up in two hours, will you?" Ville's voice hitched slightly as he asked Mige to wake him up in two hours; the sound of a chocked sob, which to Mige probably sounded like a catch in breath.
Mige patted Ville on his back and gave him a reassuring, warm smile; it was a kind of smile Mige only reserved for Ville. A sign of affection Mige only had for him.
"Sure man; sweet dreams."
Ville couldn't bring himself to tell Mige it had been forever since he had a sweet dream; and that today was not going to be any different either…maybe the worst of all.
Clutching the bottle in his fist, Ville started climbing up the stairs that led to his and Mige's bedroom, with Mige watching his best friend's retreating back, thinking how much he loved the green-eyed man and how he wished he could take all his pain away.
If only he would just stop shutting him out.
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1 Theo-dur and slo-bid are brand names for Theophylline, an asthma medication.
2 Peak Expository Flow Rate (PEFR), a gauge of how fast a person can exhale air from the lungs. By breathing into a small hand-held device called a flow meter, an asthmatic can learn when their airways are first starting to narrow. When the PEFR falls, asthma medication may be needed to prevent an attack.