Ironic
Disclaimer: I own all the Johnson's (except Angelina, of course) and Antoinette "Toni" Toussaint. (Actually, I share ownership with FredsAngel, who helped me with the second chapter. The plot, however is all mine.) Everybody else belongs to the brilliant JK Rowling. And the song is Alanis Morissette's (and she owns herself).
A/N: This is a series of ficlets surrounding Angelina's death at 22 and everyone's feelings about it. The song lyrics aren't necessarily in order.
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Blood Before Your Wedding Day
Fred's POV
And isn't it ironic...dontcha think?
I hate this damn song; always have, and now I'll hate it even more. Unfortunately, it also happened to be Angelina's favorite song. And if you're the daughter of Gabrielle Toussaint and Jake Johnson, not only do you get your favorite song played at your funeral, you get Alanis bloody Morissette to sing at it.
Angelina said she liked the song because she said the words were true. And she was right.
It's like rain on your wedding day.
Damn it. The song never ends. Considering the way our relationship was going, it probably would've rained on our wedding day, but we'll never know. She killed herself before we even set a date. Of course, that was my fault. I kept picking fights with her about dates hoping she'd catch on that I wasn't ready to get married. But of course, she never did. I can't blame her. She is-was-a girl and wanted to tie the knot as soon as possible. She had this beautiful, perfectly planned out ideal wedding in her mind. She designed everything from the robes to the bouquet herself. And they would've been beautiful. My Angel was talented like that. And the robes would've been Gladrags originals; her twin sister, Abby, is the fashion-house's top designer. Only one thing stood in the way of her happiness. Me.
But like I said, it's entirely my fault. I shouldn't have asked her to marry me before I was ready. Angel would've waited for me. She was usually pretty patient about things like that. Especially since she knew that I wanted to prove my worth to her family. But the proposal threw her girliness (something that most people didn't even knew existed) into overdrive. For four years, she hounded me about it. And for four years, I gave her fake reasons why we couldn't. We fought about a lot of things during our seven years together, but never anything as serious as when we were going to get married. And even during these fights, we always made up because we loved each other. After all, we knew we were going to get married; we just weren't going to do it right then.
Well life has a funny way of sneaking up on you
When you think everything's okay and everything's going right.
Then came last week's fight; the one that caused two deaths. Angelina told me she was pregnant and I thought she was playing a joke. I told her it wasn't a very funny one and she explained to me, in a very colorful manner, that she wasn't kidding. After I got over the initial shock, I accused her of getting pregnant on purpose; of trying to trap me. I don't know why I did it; probably because I'm a hotheaded moron. I knew that she would never in a million years do something like that. And if I had really thought she would, the hurt look in her eyes would've killed that thought.
"Angel. I-I didn't mean that, I swear." I started, but it was too late. She had already Disappararated. And me, being the idiot that I am, let her go. I thought that maybe she needed a little bit of alone time to cool down, like she usually did after our fights. And when I popped into her flat to talk to her the next morning, she had already hanged herself.
And isn't it ironic...dontcha think?
Will this bloody song EVER end?. I'm the only person Angelina ever allowed to call her "Angel" (anyone else who dared try it ended up in the Hospital Wing), and I'm the person that made her become the real thing.
A little too ironic...and yeah I really do think...
Oh, yeah, Angel was right; the words are true. A little too true, if you ask me.
Disclaimer: I own all the Johnson's (except Angelina, of course) and Antoinette "Toni" Toussaint. (Actually, I share ownership with FredsAngel, who helped me with the second chapter. The plot, however is all mine.) Everybody else belongs to the brilliant JK Rowling. And the song is Alanis Morissette's (and she owns herself).
A/N: This is a series of ficlets surrounding Angelina's death at 22 and everyone's feelings about it. The song lyrics aren't necessarily in order.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Blood Before Your Wedding Day
Fred's POV
And isn't it ironic...dontcha think?
I hate this damn song; always have, and now I'll hate it even more. Unfortunately, it also happened to be Angelina's favorite song. And if you're the daughter of Gabrielle Toussaint and Jake Johnson, not only do you get your favorite song played at your funeral, you get Alanis bloody Morissette to sing at it.
Angelina said she liked the song because she said the words were true. And she was right.
It's like rain on your wedding day.
Damn it. The song never ends. Considering the way our relationship was going, it probably would've rained on our wedding day, but we'll never know. She killed herself before we even set a date. Of course, that was my fault. I kept picking fights with her about dates hoping she'd catch on that I wasn't ready to get married. But of course, she never did. I can't blame her. She is-was-a girl and wanted to tie the knot as soon as possible. She had this beautiful, perfectly planned out ideal wedding in her mind. She designed everything from the robes to the bouquet herself. And they would've been beautiful. My Angel was talented like that. And the robes would've been Gladrags originals; her twin sister, Abby, is the fashion-house's top designer. Only one thing stood in the way of her happiness. Me.
But like I said, it's entirely my fault. I shouldn't have asked her to marry me before I was ready. Angel would've waited for me. She was usually pretty patient about things like that. Especially since she knew that I wanted to prove my worth to her family. But the proposal threw her girliness (something that most people didn't even knew existed) into overdrive. For four years, she hounded me about it. And for four years, I gave her fake reasons why we couldn't. We fought about a lot of things during our seven years together, but never anything as serious as when we were going to get married. And even during these fights, we always made up because we loved each other. After all, we knew we were going to get married; we just weren't going to do it right then.
Well life has a funny way of sneaking up on you
When you think everything's okay and everything's going right.
Then came last week's fight; the one that caused two deaths. Angelina told me she was pregnant and I thought she was playing a joke. I told her it wasn't a very funny one and she explained to me, in a very colorful manner, that she wasn't kidding. After I got over the initial shock, I accused her of getting pregnant on purpose; of trying to trap me. I don't know why I did it; probably because I'm a hotheaded moron. I knew that she would never in a million years do something like that. And if I had really thought she would, the hurt look in her eyes would've killed that thought.
"Angel. I-I didn't mean that, I swear." I started, but it was too late. She had already Disappararated. And me, being the idiot that I am, let her go. I thought that maybe she needed a little bit of alone time to cool down, like she usually did after our fights. And when I popped into her flat to talk to her the next morning, she had already hanged herself.
And isn't it ironic...dontcha think?
Will this bloody song EVER end?. I'm the only person Angelina ever allowed to call her "Angel" (anyone else who dared try it ended up in the Hospital Wing), and I'm the person that made her become the real thing.
A little too ironic...and yeah I really do think...
Oh, yeah, Angel was right; the words are true. A little too true, if you ask me.