A/N: I am SO sorry. I'm SUCH a crappy writer, AND a crappy person…Especially to Vanessa, who waited very coughINcough patiently for this chapter. BTW, I had just heard that her birthday is this Sunday, so I was writing as fast as I could so that this could be finished on time. I know it took a very long time, but I won't give any bad excuses this time. I guess I was just too lazy and to blocked to write. I'm still very sorry! But even so, I just have this to say: Vanessa'd better be happy for this; it was HARD to follow up on that chapter… God, you can't write so well! At least, for my sanity's sake!
Title: What goes Thump! at Night
The pitch black night was deathly quiet, but if you listened closely, you could hear crickets chirping, calling out to each other in the darkness, and the wind rustling the leaves. All was peaceful, the medley of the nighttime sounds calming to anyone who happened to have a spare moment to stop and listen. That is, until a piercing scream broke through the tranquility of the night. The scream had issued from a building that served as a college dormitory, from a room that belonged to a girl named Francoise Arnoul.
Francoise had been jerked awake from a rather disconcerting dream, and finding that a she had been bleeding from a cut on her side, had cried out. It was one thing to have a nightmare, but a totally different one to wake up and find it to be true. Now, having calmed down sufficiently to go over the events that had happened, she realized that she could remember her dream with amazing clarity. That alone made her suspicious, a small piece of information which was insignificant compared to her dream itself. Joe being in her dream wasn't that surprising, Francoise had found that she was thinking of him more than she had originally realized, but who was that baby? How was he able to talk? How did he know her? Who was attacking her, and why were they after her? Most importantly, how had she been hurt in real life?
Unbidden, an image formed in her minds eye. Somehow, she knew this person was a male even though his face was covered by a mask. It was black, just like the rest of his clothes, save for his eyes. His fluorescent yellow eyes glowed in the darkness surrounding him, and sent ethereal feeling down her spine. She had just shaken off the chills surrounding her, when her door suddenly flew open, yanking her out of her stupor.
"Francoise! Are you alright?" a worried voice called from the hallway. Francoise could see Cynthia's brown head bobbling up and down as she ran towards her, eyebrows furrowed together in concern. As she came through the doorway, Francoise noticed one of her English books on the floor, directly in front of the brunette.
"Cynthia, look—!" Francoise was cut off as Cynthia tripped over said object and came hurtling towards her bed. The last thing Francoise saw was Cynthia's surprised face, and a thump! as she landed. After a moment, both girls looked up at each others faces.
Francoise blinked
Cynthia blinked
Francoise blinked again. Then the girls started laughing like never before, falling off the bed, clutching their stomachs and rolling on the floor. After the laughter had subsided into small giggles, Francoise regained her composure and turned to the other girl lying on the floor beside her, breaths coming in short gasps.
"Don't worry, I'm fine," Francoise reassured her, feeling indeed, quite calm now. It was amazing she had managed to recover from that. Cynthia pursed her lips, and frowned at her with a motherly scowl on her face. She had been up late studying, and had decided to take a walk to clear her mind when she heard Francoise's scream, which had then resulted in the position she was currently in.
Suddenly, "Francoise! I heard your scream and I—,"Joe burst in, hair mussed, clothes askew. He gaped at the sight that greeted him, both Cynthia and Francoise in their nightgowns, cheeks rosy and breathless. Backing away, his eyes widened in shock and surprise.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to come in, I mean, I meant to come in, but I didn't want to come in come in, and I'm so sorry if I interrupted anything that is if you were doing anything together and I don't mean together together, just together, like friends and if you aren't just friends its perfectly ok with me why wouldn't it be," came out in a whole breath, his own cheeks taking on a rosy tinge and not just because of the speech he blurted out in a single breath. Francoise furrowed her brows in confusion, tilting her head to the side,
"Joe, what are you trying to say?" He froze and blushed harder. Before he could open his mouth, Cynthia burst into laughter again. Both Joe and Francoise watched Cynthia as she convulsed with laughter, tears making their way down her pale face. The blond turned to Joe and twirled her finger in a clockwise motion near her temple, then pointing to the brunette, still curled up in her fetal position on the floor. Joe, knowing fully well that Cynthia would tell Francoise and relieve her of her child-like ignorance laughed shakily and quickly changed the subject.
"What happened? I heard someone scream and rushed over here to see what happened, fearing the worse, and I find you two in hysterics. I think I deserve an explanation!" he said indignantly, which made set off another bout of giggles. Even so, he had conveniently forgotten the fact that he was worried to death about her, causing him to jump out of bed, hastily throwing any clothes on, and rushing out of the dorm, nearly crashing into a few walls and annoying doors. But, that was all to be expected. What was really perturbing was that, unconsciously, his tongue had reached up to push against his back tooth as he ran, and he almost expected everything else to stand still. Thinking back, he realized it was a stupid idea, expecting his back tooth to make time stop around him. Francoise spoke, startling him out of his reverie,
"I'm fine, Joe. Just a little nightmare, that's all. And…thanks for caring about me," her voice nearly inaudible with those last words. Joe reached up a hand to scratch at the back of his hair sheepishly, averting his eyes while a blush blossomed across his boyish cheeks, muttering a small,
"My pleasure…" Cynthia watched her two friends in fascination, looking from one to another, a conclusion slowly forming in her head.
"OH MY GOD!" broke through the silence, ruining the moment between the blushing pair. Joe, glad for the excuse, asked politely,
"Cynthia, what's wrong?" Her brown eyes were wide and sparkling with wonder.
"I can't believe I didn't notice it sooner!"
"Notice what?" asked Francoise, trading suspicious glances with Joe.
"It's so obvious! I'll be surprised if the whole school doesn't know by now!"
"Know what?" Joe said, confusion evident in his voice.
"Gods, this is so funny, everyone else but you two has realized this already!"
"Realize WHAT? Tell us, NOW!" two voices simultaneously demanded, both pairs of eyes promising a cold, harsh punishment. Laughing, Cynthia answered easily,
"Duh! The fact that both of you are head over heels in love with each other!" That statement silenced the entire room, and all that could be heard was the soft chirping of the crickets. Cynthia watched as her two friend's faces remained the same, eyes wide and mouth agape kept from their previous emotion, anger at her, but this time it portrayed a completely different feeling. Both of them radiated a jumble of feelings, among them shock, embarrassment, and right in the center of the mix, a bit of happiness. You ask how Cynthia would know about this? She was a psychology major, and was trained to tell peoples emotions, however well hidden. This proved very useful, but was an extreme annoyance to her friends, especially if they had a secret they didn't want her to know. To her, it was a gift from heaven itself.
"Bu…but…uh…I…um…wait…uh…" Joe stuttered, unable to find words to express himself. The blond sitting on the bed beside him just stared at the brunette, stunned. A blush quickly formed on her porcelain face, and managed to bite out,
"Cynthia…I…I don't think that's…that's entirely…appropriate," Cynthia, having her fill of fun for the night grinned, and waved a hand at the frozen couple.
"Well, its up to you guys to discuss. I'm going back to bed for my beauty sleep! Ta-ta!" and with that, she strode off, humming a small tune to herself. When the mischievous brunette left, it was just Joe and Francoise, all alone.
"She's really going to need that beauty sleep," Joe commented, in an attempt to break the awkward silence. To his surprise, Francoise giggled, and replied,
"You'd better hope she didn't ear that, or else you wouldn't live to see daylight,"
"Yeah, but it would be worth it, to see her face," Things were stable for a moment, the air more relaxed. That is, until Joe discovered a small red patch on Francoise's left side. At first, a burst of red splashed across his face, as he thought up a reason for it to be there, but it quickly dissipated once he realized that she wouldn't bleed there, unless…
"Francoise. What happened to your left side?" he asked with a clipped voice, eyes boring into hers. Francoise's eyes widened as she saw how hard Joe's usually warm cinnamon eyes had become, and her hand flew to her injury.
"Oh, it's nothing. I accidentally cut myself while shaving, and forgot to bandage it," she said hastily, smiling up at him. Joe remained suspicious, but it was obvious Francoise didn't want to tell him anything else. His eyes were darkened with fury, knowing that someone had snuck up on his golden-haired angel in the middle of the night. Whoever that person was—he would pay.
"Are you sure you're alright?" he couldn't help but try to get the information out of her, yet it was hard to do so without letting her know.
"Yes Joe, I'm perfectly fine, but I think you should get some sleep. Come on, we don't have all night!" Getting up, Francoise made her way to her closet, making sure her wound was inconspicuously hidden. It wouldn't do any good if Joe were to catch a glimpse of it again.
"Wh-what? Whaddya mean?" dumbfounded, Joe looked at her as if she was crazy.
"What do I mean? I mean, you'd better settle down for the night, it's late, and we have finals tomorrow," came from deep within the mahogany wardrobe. Warm cinnamon eyes widened, and his face burst into flame, once he realized what Francoise had meant.
"Yo…You want me to…to…sleep here? With you?"
"Yeah, what else would I have meant?" Looking up from her rummaging, she spied Joe's burning face, "Ugh, not in that way, you perv! You're going to be sleeping on the floor!"
"But why can't I just go back to my own dorm?"
"Don't be silly, it's freezing outside, you'll definitely catch a cold. Besides, if you're caught, you'll be in major trouble,"
"But…but…"
"That's not gonna help you at all, so I suggest you stop with the whining and help me with these blankets," which was followed by a seemingly endless stream of flying pieces of thick cloth. After Francoise had piled all the blankets up so that it made a second bed in the middle of the room, she took out some big t-shirts that, when held up by the coat hanger trailed on the ground, and a stack of boxers balanced precariously on the upturned palm of her hand.
"These should be big enough for you, go try them on in the bathroom," she motioned toward the door in the corner of her dorm. Still wary of her plan, Joe gathered the stacks of clothes and went through the said door. Once he closed and locked it, he looked around at his surroundings, and prepared himself for the worst. What greeted him was shocking, even with that extra protective preparing. One word that could be used to describe it would probably be... Pink. Everything was pink, down to the little bristles on her pink toothbrush. There was pink soap, pink towels, pink toilet seat—he wouldn't be surprised if there was pink water running out of the pink faucet in the pink sink. It was like a boy's worst nightmare, without the cooties.
Trying to relax, he took a deep breath. Wrong move. What hit him was so overpowering, it nearly knocked him over. It was Francoise's scent. The lovely smell of fresh roses, combined in such a perfect way with warm vanilla. It was the scent he dreamed about, the scent he longed for day and night. Collapsing in a heap on the pink-tiled floor, he closed his eyes, and breathed in. Oh, how he wished he could be immersed in this scent forever, forever by his angel's side.
"Joe? What's wrong? Are you hurt? Come on, answer me! Joe!" her worry-soaked voice rang through the air like a shot, startling the dreamy-eyed young man.
He scrambled up from his fetal position, and quickly called back, "I'm fine, Francoise!"
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah, I just slipped, it's nothing, so don't worry!" Reluctantly, he got up and started to undress, carefully folding every piece of clothing and placing them carefully on the floor. The last thing he wanted Francoise to think was that he was a messy slob. Looking at the stacks of t-shirts and boxers stacked before him, he found that they were looked like they belonged to a boy. Picking up the uppermost pieces of clothing, he put them on and observed the end product in the floor-length mirror. He didn't look half bad, considering that the t-shirt went up to his knees, and the boxers were too loose. Strangely enough, they didn't have Francoise's scent. He was slightly disappointed, but more perturbed. It not only had Francoise's perfume, but it had another flavor to it, more like cologne. Why would Francoise have someone else's clothes in her closet? Did it mean anything that the clothes were definitely a male's? Did Francoise have… NO! That couldn't be possible! Francoise isn't that kind of girl—is she? No, she would definitely not be one of those. But…but what if she had one? What if… If she had one, then… Then what would they do—
Joe felt his face burst into flame for what felt like the millionth time that night, and leaned heavily against the pink-tiled wall. No, no, bad, very bad, Joe! You shouldn't be thinking about those things here!
"Joe? You're taking an awfully long time in there! Are you sure you're O.K?"
"Yeah, I told you, don't worry about me! Don't stay up for me, you need sleep!"
"But hurry up!" Taking one last glance at his reflection, and once having made sure he was blush-free, he took in a deep breath, and exited the bathroom.
Meanwhile, Francoise was outside, worrying incessantly about, whom she considered, a chestnut-haired cutie, in her bathroom. He was taking such a long time, and she couldn't help but become anxious to the point of wearing a hole in her floor. She kept worrying about him, no matter what he did. It was as if, magically, in her subconscious she thought that he was constantly in mortal danger, like he had some horrible enemy that would kill him on the spot once they got the chance. She knew it was ridiculous, she knew it had come out of nothing, but somehow, in her mind, it was rooted there, unable to be pulled out.
"Ta-da, you like?" Joe came out, arms wide open, and just begging to be hugged. It took all of Francoise's quickly dwindling self-control to not lunge forward and bury herself into his arms.
"Yeah, it looks great! Now, let's go to bed," and with that, she turned around, and without even letting Joe get into bed first, turned off the light, and plunged the room into utter darkness. Thankfully, she acted fast enough to hide the blush that spread across her face. She shouldn't have lent him her brother's old shirts! It wasn't that he looked ugly in them, he looked absolutely perfect! A bit too perfect. The t-shirt was loose enough to look normal for a guy, but hugged him slightly in the chest, giving a better view of his defined muscles. Oh, how she wished she could be held to that chest, safe and isolated from everything else but Joe.
The unaware object of her affections was left to wander in the dark, trying desperately to find something to hold onto, in case he tripped over something, and landed on a certain someone. But, it was hard to concentrate on his goal when he partly wanted to land on her. He knew it was a bit selfish, and he would probably crush her, but it would be heaven to be so close to her, even for a short bit of time. Finally finding his makeshift bed, he lay down on it, and stared at, what he supposed was the ceiling.
"Francoise?"
"Hm?"
"Are you sure you're ok?"
"What do you mean?"
"That cut you had earlier…"
"Oh…Oh yeah, that! I'm fine, don't worry!"
"Are you sure?"
"Yes, I'm perfectly alright! It's nothing!"
"No, it's not nothing. You're starting to sound like me, and that means something's seriously wrong with you." Laughter was heard, the sound resembling the gentle chime of bells.
"Joe, there's nothing wrong with me, nor with you. Didn't I tell you before? It was just a little cut, nothing more, so you don't have to worry!" The young man opened his mouth in a near-silent yawn, and then flipped over onto his side, his drooping eyelids finally getting some rest. Slowly loosing consciousness, he heard a tune being sung with such a sweet voice, it could've only belonged to an angel.
Night
time sharpens
Heightens each sensation
Darkness stirs
And
wakes imagination
Silently the senses
Abandon their defenses
So sweet…
Slowly,
gently
Night unfurls its splendor
Grasp it, sense it
Tremulous
and tender
Turn your face away
From the garish light of
day
Turn your thoughts away from cold unfeeling light
And
listen to the music of the night
So beautiful…
Close
your eyes
And embellish on your darkest dreams,
Purge all
thoughts of the life you knew before,
Close your eyes, let your
spirit start to soar
And you'll live like you've never lived
before
It wasn't real, it was ethereal in a way, just so…
Softly,
deftly
Music shall caress you
Hear it, feel it
Secretly
possess you
Open up your mind
Let your fantasies unwind
In
this darkness which you know you cannot fight
The darkness of the
music of the night
In his mind, he was falling, falling in a hole of darkness. Surprisingly, he was not afraid, but kept hearing that alluring music…
Let
your mind start a journey through a strange new world,
leave all
thoughts of the world you knew before,
let your soul take you
where you long to be,
only then can you belong to me.
Far up ahead, he could see a bright light, shining brightly in the darkness. He had to reach it, he just had to!
Floating,
falling
Sweet intoxication
Touch me, trust me
Savor each
sensation
Let the dream begin
Let your darker side give in
To
the power of the music that I write
The power of the music of the
night
As he approached his goal, he saw it, the most exquisite being he had ever seen. She was the epitome of beauty, stunning in more ways than one. She was reaching out to him, beckoning him to come closer, and he did. He grasped her hands, and she took them away from the darkness, showing him the light.
You
alone can make my song take flight
Help me make the music of the
night
Yes… I will.
A/N: Yes, I know it's WAY too short, considering the time I've been away, but… you know me. I've just finished this at 11:20 P.M, and am about to go watch Full Metal Alchemist! So yeah, if the ending's a little weird, I'm sorry, it's late! BTW, I don't own "Music of the Night", it's a beautiful song written by some guy from Phantom of the Opera, and my friend's absolutely obsessed with it. Ok, I'm going to be an annoying brat, but: Angela, I sent you an email, but I'm not sure you've received it…But you're too busy with work and all that, I'm sorry. I just wanted to confirm…
Again, I'm very sorry for the delay, and Happy Birthday, Vanessa! I hope this is…um…how do I put it? I hope this is uh…to your liking!
