If I Die Young
LONDON, ENGLAND - 1958
The lights in the club dimmed as the singer and her band walked on stage. The muttering and whispering of the crowd seized as they were all held by the singer's beauty.
She walked straight, with confidence in her steps. She wore a black jeans with a plain black T-shirt, her hair streaming down her back like a luscious waterfall. She stepped up to the microphone while her bandmates got ready. She smiled at the crowd and waved.
This simple gesture was answered with a lot of yelling and cheering. 'Goodnight Mooners!' She shouted, riling up the crowd. She grinned. 'Okay, tonight, we'll start with something a little bit different. We'll get real loud after this one, but we got a special request, from one of you!' More cheering greeted her words. 'Someone asked us to sing a little song called 'If I die young'. Now I hope you guys like it, so, let me hear your voices and see your hands, because here we go!' cheering and screaming, clapping and marriage proposals were shouted when she turned around to the band to sign the start.
The band played the intro, and it became clear soon why the crowd loved their singer. She got her microphone, proceeded to the edge of the stage and sat down, shaking hands with the people on the first row. When she started singing, every other sound in the club seemed to dim. Everyone was listening, their attention drawn.
If I die young, bury me in sand
Lay me down on a bed of roses
Sink in me in the river, at dawn
Send me away with the words of a love song
Godric smiled sadly, his eyes never leaving Ariana, who was now singing while pacing around on the stage, completely oblivious to the crowd. She and the guitarist moved over the stage together smoothly, almost natural. He saw the secret smiles and twinkling eyes when their eyes met, but though it enraged him beyond anything he had ever seen, he contained himself. He had been gone for a very long time.
She was allowed to move on, as he had told her to. He just hoped he wouldn't have to be there to see it.
There's a boy here in town,
Says he'll love me forever
Who would've thought forever could be severed by
The sharp knife of a short life, oh well
I've had just enough time
He frowned when Ariana's hand stroked the young man's face, as she had once done his, a smile lighting up her entire face. He closed his eyes and forced himself to breathe in and out slowly. She's not mine anymore, he told himself, over and over again. Ariana still did not know he was in the club, and luckily she didn't.
She would've blasted him out. He forced himself to listen to her words again. He kept marveling over her singing. How was it that, in all the years they had spent together, he had never even known she could sing?
What I never did is done
A penny for my thoughts
Oh no, I'll sell 'em for a dollar
They're worth so much more after I'm a goner
And maybe then you'll hear
The words I've been singing
Funny when you're dead
How people start listening
The music slowed and Ariana didn't sing for a few moments. The crowd slowly started cheering, like a jumbo-jet starting up. When Ariana started singing again, with more power than before the crowd cheered and she even got a few people to sing along.
As she ended the song, a loud applause greeted her last words and the last notes. She smiled and bowed to the crowd, thanking them and telling them she'd be back after a short ten-minute break.
She left the stage, laughing and chatting with the dark-haired guitarist. He felt another pang of jealousy.
He only came to the club to see if she was okay, but he wasn't sure if he could stay away from her now he had seen her. Seeing her had aroused the feeling of missing her. It was more painful than it had been in years.
He got up, leaving his cocktail untouched. He followed Ariana and her band as they moved to the back of the bar. After they had chatted for a bit, the band returned to the stage to set up.
He knew this was the only chance he'd get to talk to her. He swallowed and approached her.
He reached out a hand to her shoulder, bracing himself for anything when she would turn around.
'Ariana,' he said, when she turned.
Everything seemed to dim around me. The lights, people, even the music. Time itself seem to pause and drag out the moment to prolong the spring of warmth that bloomed in my heart. Perhaps this was what Snow White must have felt when she woke up after Prince Charming's kiss, I thought.
For standing behind me was a young man, pale and handsome. He seemed indifferent, unobservant to the crowd and onlookers who noticed him. But when he caught my eye at last, his expression profoundly changed. A smile graced his lips and reached his wonderfully piercing eyes. My mouth fell open, and however I tried, I could not remember how to close it.
'Godric. . .' I whispered, not knowing what else there was to say. His smile made my heart ache. I had not realized how much I had missed him until this moment. I raised my hand to his face and slapped him. His expression hardly changed, only his smile disappeared.
'I guess I deserved that.' I nodded. 'You bet you did.' I cupped his face and kissed him. When I leaned back, his smile had returned. 'You deserved that one too.'
His smile was irresistible. He kissed me again, softly and shortly, and then nodded toward the stage. 'I think your boyfriend is jealous.' I turned to see Marc, my guitarist, gazing in our direction, his eyes narrowed in rage. I turned back to Godric and smiled. 'He's not my boyfriend. He knows that. He sometimes forgets that.' Godric smiled and kissed me on the cheek. 'You have to get up there. I'll wait. I promise.' I frowned before I tried to turn back to the stage, but he wouldn't let go of my hand. My left hand.
His mouth hung open a little bit. 'You . . . You're still wearing your ring. Why would you wear your ring?' I smiled at him. 'Why wouldn't I?' I said, and walked back to the stage.
When she had finished her performance for the night, she joined him at his table in the corner.
Though most of their conversation remained unspoken, he did tell her why he had not returned for so many years. He explained why had done the things he had done. Ariana spoke very little, and he spoke a lot. It was almost like an opposite world. She wasn't angry, knowing why had he lied to her.
She sat with her feet on the third chair at their table, a hardly touched cocktail in front of her.
He looked at her. 'You've hardly said anything.' She looked up at him. 'What is there to say?' He shrugged. 'Must be something you would like to say. Anything would be fine. Even if you said you hated me.'
She smiled sadly. 'Wouldn't it be so much easier if I did say that? But I would be lying. And, That I cannot permit myself to do. I couldn't live without you again. Believe me, I tried. But I just . . . I can't.' The more he looked at her, the more convinced he got there was something very different about her. He still thought she was beautiful, but there was something a little more . . . raw about her features. Her cheekbones were more profound and her eyes seemed to be larger than he remembered. The more he looked at her, the more he came to think she had been seriously ill. This thought scared him. She could die of illnesses.
Her hair seemed to be duller and worse cared for than he remembered too.
'You look like you've been ill,' he ventured to ask. She looked up. 'Yeah,' she whispered. 'Yeah, but I'm fine. Don't worry, it won't kill me. I'm sure you were so worried.' The sarcasm in her voice was obvious. He shook his head. 'You have no idea how often I wanted to come back, tell you the truth. But I thought you would be safer without me. That's the only reason I stayed away.'
She frowned. 'Godric, I'm not mad. I know why you left. Why you came back and why you left again. I just don't get why you're here now.' He sighed. 'Would you believe me if I told you I don't know either?' Something of a smile appeared on her lips. 'That must be so frustrating. You hate not knowing things.' He smiled wryly. 'No kidding.' Then, 'Why is it that I didn't know you were such a good singer?' She shrugged. 'One unusual talent is more than enough for me.'
They didn't speak for a while. Godric tried to ignore her hostile attitude, for he knew she was afraid of getting hurt again. 'Will you ever be able to forgive me?' The ice in her eyes seemed to melt as her gaze met his. She leaned over the table for his hand. She dropped the bracelet he had left her all those years ago in his hand. 'I wear my ring, I kept the bracelet. I kept my love. I will forgive you at one point. But twenty years is a long time, even considering our long lives. I love you, Godric,' she said, her eyes still on his. 'I hope loving you is going to be enough to forgive you. Love will certainly help, but you have to be patient with me.' He nodded. 'Do you want me to leave?' She shook her head. 'I won't last another twenty years without you.' 'You have seen me in these years,' he countered. She smiled wryly. 'Once in ten years isn't a real thing.' That, he could not deny.
At four AM, the club owner told them he wanted to close up, so they left for Ariana's apartment. Stopping in front of the door, keys in her hand, she turned around to face him. 'It's small, dirty and during the day, completely dark. There aren't any windows. You can stay here if you want. It'll be easier.' He nodded. He wanted to ask why she had left Dallas, but there was no point in asking. He knew she would've had to leave because she didn't age. She turned and opened the door. 'Please, Godric, come in.' He followed her inside and let his eyes wander around, though it was hard keeping them off Ariana.
She led him from the shabby hall into a small two-room-apartment, a sofa and a table on one end of the wall, facing the kitchen. Books were piled on a small table beside the sofa and a ragged blanket adorned the sofa. The kitchen was even tinier and sported the second door, presumably to the bedroom.
She gestured around, obviously not at ease. 'I know it's . . . Well, nothing really, but . . This aroused the least suspicion.' He didn't say anything.
She turned and looked at him. 'Why aren't you saying anything?' He shrugged. 'What is there to say?' She shrugged too. 'I don't know. Something. Anything.' She dropped herself on the sofa and closed her eyes in desperation. He sat down next to her, deliberately moving slowly.
She still looked like she would be blown away by the smallest breeze. She turned to him – playing with the bracelet around her wrist – and stroked his hand. It was the tiniest hint of affection, but it was more than he had expected.
'Godric,' she whispered when he kept his eyes away from her. 'Godric, look at me. Please, I know I don't look the same anymore, maybe not even pretty anymore. But I need you to look at me. Please.' He raised his eyes to hers and stroked her face; 'Please, don't be ridiculous. You're beautiful to me. Always have been. Always will be.' She shook her head. 'I thought we were through with the lying.' 'We are. I'm not lying to you. You are beautiful.' Before he had thought it through, before he realized what he was doing, he leaned in and kissed her. When the moment of surprise had passed, she kissed him back, allowing him to pull her closer. She was skinnier, yes, but not unhealthily skinny anymore.
For the first time in years, he fully appreciated how much he needed Ariana near him. Her body against his, the warmth of her skin, the softness of her lips on his. But this was wrong. She was angry. He shouldn't be kissing her while she was mad at him. It took him all of his willpower, but he managed to push her up and keep her there. 'What now?' she said. He shook his head. 'I don't think you should be with me while you're still mad at me.' She took his hands, pulled them from her shoulders and leaned in to kiss him. 'Whenever we fight, kissing always makes it better.' 'But,' he began, but she interrupted him by putting her finger on his lips. 'Godric, trust me, I'll tell you when I don't want something, but you, I do want.'
When her lips once again met his, he forgot every objection he had. He forgot what he wanted to say. All he remembered was to hold her closer, to kiss her.
The day passed quickly into the night, before either of them had noticed. They never made the bed.
The sofa had proven its use though. Not until hours later had he carried her to the bed and laid down beside her. Neither of them spoke very much. Hours and hours later, Ariana fell asleep, leaning to Godric's chest. Godric, however, could not find rest at all. He studied Ariana's features, the way she slept, the steady rising and falling of her chest. He could no longer remember how he had lived without her for so long, or why he had been alright with the idea of her moving on.
Only the thought filled him with rage as he had never before felt. Blood Rage. But now, with Ariana locked safely in his arms, he could not bear to sleep, to rest, and miss another moment of her life.
He stroked her hair out of her face and kissed her forehead. 'I love you, Ariana. . .' He whispered.
HiHi, here's the next chapter xD I hope you like it.
I don't know when I'll be updating next, because school's starting again tomorrow. :s
Please review and tell me what you think.
Thanks for reading!
Xx Annaelle
