For my friend Fay, ty for beings a dear and passing on half the gear in our raids. Lylas but i only took about 20 minutes to think of it and write it. I removed a portion of the song to better fit my use for it.
Song: These Words by Natasha Bedingfeild (Not my own of course)
She sits near the fire tossing bits and pieces of paper into a campfire, throwing out the incorrect words. She watches as it crumples and burns in the flame - erasing her wrongs. It continues, the paper burning, until she reaches the end of her pile and finds two pictures at the bottom.
Threw some chords together
The combination D-E-F
It's who I am, it's what I do
And I was gonna lay it down for you
She inspects them from behind the leather straps that cover eye-less sockets; still able to see the faded photos. They are of her and her friend before and after the plague had killed them only to be resurrected as grotesque creatures of the living dead.
A color one of her and him in a village, dancing and laughing, is first. She knew before she died that she felt this way. She knew when she awoke again that she still felt that way. Yet she can't find the words to tell him.
Try to focus my attention
But I feel so A-D-D
I need some help, some inspiration
(But it's not coming easily) Whoah oh!
She looks up from the photos and slips them into her bag without looking at the second. She watches as the flames dance and sing with the wood and paper she tossed inside. A stray piece flies out and she catches it, blowing on it softly to dowse the flame. 'I' is the only readable piece before the scorch marks. She tosses it to the fire, reminded of her need to find the correct words to say.
Trying to find the magic
Trying to write a classic
Don't you know, don't you know, don't you know?
Waste-bin full of paper
Clever rhymes, see you later
He returns early to their small campsite, no food in his empty hands. Her eyes dart around the fire making sure none of her paper escaped again. He notices and apologizes for finding nothing - for the third night in a row. He assumes she is looking for food and not her secret notes.
These words are my own
From my heart flow
I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you
There's no other way
To better say I love you, I love you...
She watches him, unaware of the look on her features. He becomes unsteady under her gaze and asks if there is something wrong. She jolts and looks away with a shake of the head. Suddenly she feels a change in his stature and she looks back at an angered friend.
Nothing I write is ever good enough
He starts with dark whispers but it quickly grows to shouts that echo through the dead forest. She knows that it is brought on from frustration but the words still hurt her to the core.
These words are my own
From my heart flow
I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you
There's no other wayTo better say
I love you, I love you!
The three words pound in her ears as his shouts continue. She can't hear his words; only what she so desperately wants to tell him yet can't. She knows his shouts should hurt her more but she only feels blunt blows not the intended icy lance.
I'm getting off my stage
The curtains pull away
No hyperbole to hide behind
My naked soul exposes
Whoah.. oh.. oh.. oh.. Whoah.. oh..
As he abruptly shifts the fog clears and those three perfect words slip from her mind. She begins to hear what he is actually saying. Why can't you tell me what you think? How you feel? I hate it when you keep things from me! Why? I'm your best friend, please tell me!
Trying to find the magic
Trying to write a classic
Waste-bin full of paper
Clever rhymes, see you later
Hate. The word strikes home and the tears that would have normally come sooner shoot out from the holes she is forced to call eyes. Not even leather straps can keep such liquid from leaking onto her cheeks. She hears everything clearly as he expresses his frustrations with her. How she acts around her.
These words are my own
From my heart flow
I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you
He thinks he has won, seeing the tears flowing down pale skin unmarred by the plague but dead nonetheless. His voice gains aggression as he asks a final time how she is feeling - what she is thinking. A piercing feeling spreads from her chest and bubbles to her lips and before she knows what is being said she hears the words in her ears.
That's all I got to say,
Can't think of a better way,
And that's all I've got to say,
I love you, is that okay?
She has found them, those perfect words that couldn't any better express her feelings to this life and death friend. This man she has spent so many years with yet never talked to as anything more then a dear friend. His rants stop and he watches her cry with glowing yellow eyes. He doesn't believe he heard her correctly.
Then she asks if he is fine with that. If she may feel that way towards him. His shoulders fall and he slips his arm around her slight frame, holding her. Quietly into her hair he whispers his answer.