A/N: HEY I'M NOT DEAD! Here's a little Amnesia inspired oneshot for Valentine's day!
I base the suitor's appearances off of this: art/Amnesia-Alois-Basile-Malo-205617659 (look on DeviantArt) …except I imagine Basile a bit differently. Otherwise, though, this is what I'm referring to when I call them blonde, brunette, etc. rather than using their real names.
I'm sorry that it's crap, I wrote it in less than an hour cuz I was rushed.
Regardless, I hope you enjoy?
Single's Night
A quiet melody reverberated through the empty hallway, one that Basile didn't recognize. Was that idiot of a violinist trying to compose again? God, he hoped not, especially after the disaster that'd happened last time. The carpenter already had enough to deal with, considering the brain-dead blonde that was slung over his shoulder. He gave a quick, irritated knock on the man's door, and the music continued.
"Hey, dickbag, hurry up!"
The violin screeched into silence. No response was given, but footsteps were heard marching towards the door. It creaked open, and irked green eyes met pissed off brown.
"What do you want?"
"Isn't this a good enough explanation?" Basile growled, jostling the drunk on his back, "He's your friend, let me in."
Malo rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest, but stepped aside for the taller man to enter. He knew better than to question.
"Get in."
"So, what the hell happened?" Malo asked as Basile tossed Aloise onto the couch.
The blonde groaned, muttering for the "goddamn brute to be nice for once" before phasing out once more.
"Went out for a drink," Basile shrugged, taking a seat, "'Nuff said."
The brunette sighed. "Indeed…" He grasped a half-empty bottle of wine from the shelf. "Want more?"
Aloise lay dazed on Malo's couch, his back facing the other two men in the room. Basile downed his drink (second or tenth, neither were sure), yet didn't show even the slightest sign of intoxication. Malo, on the other hand, swirled the wine around his glass, not interested in drinking it. Now that those two were here, he couldn't practice. Now that he couldn't practice, he couldn't stop thinking about it.
He wasn't alone. He knew that they knew too. After catching Justine cheating on all of them…it had been like getting hit by a bullet.
"How many times?" the violinist wondered aloud, "How many times have we been tricked by her?"
"Does it really matter?" Basile retorted, "We've fallen for it twice. We'll fall for it again."
The brunette offered no response, his eyes fixed on his glass, and Basile sighed.
"To hell with that bitch," he scoffed, "I hope she dies and burns in hell for all eternity."
At this, Malo let out a slight chuckle. "You're really good at holding grudges, aren't you?" Basile scoffed again, and Malo laughed out loud. On the couch, Aloise stirred slightly.
"Justine…" He murmured, half asleep, yet Malo's smile didn't falter. Perhaps he was still insane.
"It doesn't matter," the violinist said, taking a sip from his glass, "We're free from her, for now at least. So let's enjoy that freedom while we can."
Basile smirked. "That's probably the most sensible thing that's ever come out of your idiot mouth," he remarked, raising his glass, "To us?"
A quiet clink. "To us."
A/N: I might revise and repost this later.
