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Please Ville	By : KarinVAM Category: Singers/Bands/Musicians > HIM Views: 1527 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not know the members of HIM. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Please Ville
- 1
This one if for you Punkbitch!

Please Ville,

Please, kiss me with your lyrics
Touch me with your songs
Burn me with your deep voice
My heart where it belongs

Love me with your vocals
Stroke me with your gaze
Hold me with that little smile
That appears upon your face

Kill me with your beauty
Sooth me with your laugh
Seduce me with your darkness
Because more, I’ll never have

This was what he found. Written in the little black book from the drawer. The wooded, innocent looking drawer from his nightstand. Bam’s nightstand.
He had seen the book before. Bam had even read from it to him, when he had written down ideas for clips and episodes. It was technical, and funny. Just technical. Just funny.
But this wasn’t technical. And it sure as hell didn’t make him laugh.
He could have ignored the poem. It was just a poem, right? He could have pretended it was one of Bam’s trying-to-be-creative scribbles, and silently laugh that his macho friend Bam actually wrote poetry.
But he couldn’t ignore the pain, the loneliness and the sincerity of the words. And the scariest thing of all: His name.
His name, that was the crown of the poem, sparkling on top. Enjoying the companion of Bam’s pleading. Bam was pleading.
For him to give him something. To give him a crumb. Something, anything. A smile, a song, a glance, so he could pretend it meant more. That was what he'd said. That was what he had written down.
A small tear slipped from his eye while he read the words again and again. Feeling the pain and emptiness behind them. He was pretending while he was around him. He had given up all hope for them to be anything more then they were, and this was all he had left. A dream. A fantasy. Without believing. Which left him with nothing but emptiness. Sometimes numb, sometimes desperate….but mostly empty. Because that’s what you get for abandoning hope.
He knew that, because he lived it.
“You shouldn’t have to pretend. I should have told you.” Was all he could whisper, closing the book and putting it away before a tear could stain the ink.
Bam was in the bathroom, still, and Ville just sat on the bed in his room. The room filled with pictures of him, and both of them together. In his closet were shirts with prints of his face, or the name of his band. In the stereo was his latest album. And behind the closed door the wet, smooth skin was inked with his designs.
He could have known. He could have guessed. But you don’t want to know, or guess, if you have no hope.
Bam was in love with him, and it wasn’t just a schoolboy crush. It was real love. Because he knew, now all the pieces of the puzzle had clicked, that this had been going on since forever. And he hadn’t noticed it like he should, because things had never changed. He had always known Bam like this, so he had took this open, loving and clingy friendship like it was no different than the other friends Bam had.
Bullshit, of course. Still, he never had hope for them. Bam liked women. Bam was straight.
And even now, Bam wasn’t gay, he knew. And that didn’t make it any easier to explain or understand. But he wasn’t. He was just in love. With a man. One man.
And that was him.
He jumped when the knob turned, and the door opened slightly before the boy in question stepped into his bedroom. Damp from his shower, with wet curls falling into his eyes and a grey pair of boxers paired with an element t-shirt covering most of his body parts.
He quickly wiped the tears from his cheeks, not wanting Bam to see him cry. He didn’t want to explain it. Bam wasn’t supposed to know he had looked into the hidden black book in his drawer.
It had been hidden for a reason.
“Willa, you wanna go out later? I found this awesome new bar I want to show you. You want to…….”
I never was a good actor. He stopped in the middle of his sentence when he looked at me. He knew something was up.
Oh damn, I was just as scared now as he must have been for all these years.
“What’s up Ville? Why are you looking at me like that.”
And he sounded so worried. Not suspicious or upset. He was just worried about me. Like he always was. He wanted me to be happy, and feel good. And he tried to make that happen. And if I wasn’t…then he wasn’t either. That was true love. And I hadn’t seen it before.
And what could I say? I didn’t know. So I didn’t say anything.
“Are you ok, Ville? Are you crying? You’re scaring me, say something.”
I was scaring him? I was scaring me too. And he was scaring me.
I was scared.
“Please Ville.”
Oh god no. Not that sentence. It had all started with those two words. It was too much for me to take.
“Bammie…I…You have no hope, do you?”
“What? No hope? No hope for what?”
“Us. You've given up on us. I know you have. But does that mean you've moved on?”
“Ville…”
“Because I never even…..but now….and I can’t move on, now I know…”
“What are you…?”
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry Bam for taking so long. For wasting our time. For being so blind. I’m sorry.”
I was rambling, and he was frowning. I didn’t make much sense, I knew, but I was too afraid that this poem was an old one.
I could use a cigarette.
“Ville. For god sake, what are you talking about damnit.”
He was grabbing my shoulders firmly and kneeled before the bed, so he could look me in the eye. And then I knew, the poem wasn’t an old one after all.
“I’m in love with you.”
It was a week after my confession. After he had smiled, cried, laughed and screamed that he loved me. That he always loved me.
And we had shared our first real kiss. Sweet and desperate, and more pure then anything we had ever felt. That’s what it had been.
And we made slow, beautiful love. Our hands had been shaking from the nerves, and we shed tears until we had no more to cry. And we'd been exhausted afterwards, and fell asleep on his bed, in each others arms.
We didn’t need to speak that night. Everything had already been said.
And after that, after that perfect night, it was clear. We didn’t have to guess what we were now. Or what this would lead to.
We were together now, and always. We had spend years and years of loving each other, denying and avoiding. Such a waste. And now we could act upon it. And fucking hell, I wouldn’t give it up for the world. And neither would he. So we are forever. We are partners, lovers, soul mates, and one day we will be official life partners.
Family understood, and were happy we finally found what we were looking for, and so were our friends. We didn’t care about anything else.
And I was finally happy. Complete. Something I hadn’t allowed myself to feel for an eternity. Nor had Bam, even though he was a better actor then me.
And this morning, after this blissful week that made my heart swell when ever I thought about it, I was alone in his bedroom again. In my lovers bedroom. In my Bammie’s bed.
He was downstairs, making breakfast, I knew. It was a surprise, but the smell reached all the way up to his room, and it made the butterflies in my stomach flutter.
Glancing to the side, I noticed the drawer. The innocent drawer that was the cause of our relationship. Of our happiness.
And I couldn’t help myself. I reached, and pulled it open. The black book was there, and I felt like I had no control over my arm anymore. I reached, and pulled it out.
And opening it, I read new words on the following page. Fresh words that hadn’t been there last week. But brought tears to my green eyes once more.
Please Ville,
Heal me with your kisses
Cure me with your touch
Love me with your being
My hope...no longer lost.

Hi guys! Just a little one shot. I'm not sure about this one, but I wrote this poem over the summer, and realized it could work for a fic, so I wrote this. Did you like it? Let me know! Love you all! Kisses and much love, Karin
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Please Ville