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Beside You In Time	By : runningnakedinthepark Category: Singers/Bands/Musicians > Rammstein Views: 1537 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not know the members of Rammstein. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

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Title: Beside You In Time 2/7

Author: Robby a.k.a Mr. Naked

Pairing: Richard/OC

Rating: NC 17

Disclaimer: Never happened.

Beta: flowers and candy goes to hannelore_k

Author's Notes : This story is based on an idea suggested by akasha6. Also, it has been inspired by Richard's recent interviews, but it doesn't follow strictly the facts as told by him.

Places parallel I know it's you

Feel the little pieces bleeding through

*

I chose this place because I felt comfortable being here. I felt welcomed in it. I felt drawn into it. And the others, my friends and acquaintances, told me the same thing. They felt really comfortable in here, too.

“With an older house, one would expect some sort of sense of spookiness,” one of them told me.

I laughed, because I didn't know what to reply. When you re-do a house, you scrape away the layers of old, and bring in the new. But I guess no one can rip that “old” state right from the heart of a house. That remains there forever.

Otherwise, you replace everything, install new things, make sure that your crib will be warm and cozy. In these modern times, we can transform everything, turn it into high-tech convenience, so simple, so fast. So, of course I wondered.

I walked out of my little studio, my bones and muscles sore from sitting around. My eyes were also achy from staring into the computer's screen. It was afternoon, and I decided I needed a little break from all that. I stepped out from the small room and entered the rest of the house. That's when I stopped, stunned.

It was way too fucking cold. Freezing. The rest of the house was like the inside of a freezer; I was expecting to see a crust of ice covering the walls. I looked toward the windows. It was sunny outside. It was very far from being cold outside. It wasn't winter yet! But in my house it felt like January in the Himalayas.

All the windows were closed, separating the ice-kingdom from the outside world. Also, it felt as if the air was replaced by cold. And everything in the house was standing still because this coldness insinuated itself in each of every object's particles, not turning each cell into an ice cube, but freezing it still for eternity.

I wasn't scared. I was rather puzzled. Not shocked. I was only wondering, amazed. How? How could it get so freezing cold in here, when it seemed rather impossible for this to happen?

For whatever reason something inside of me was expecting this world, everything solid in it, to start sliding slowly like melted chocolate. I was standing in the threshold of the door that separated my studio from the rest of the house, staring in fascination. I knew this place inch by inch, yet it felt as if I was seeing it for the first time.

“Too many sleepless nights,” I mumbled and shook my head.

I would have laughed at myself, if it weren't for this damn cold creeping up my spine. And just then, it started to feel even colder; on the exposed skin of my arms, on the back of my neck and even infiltrating through the fabric of my t-shirt as if someone was slowly wrapping this frozen blanket around me. I felt the hairs on my forearms rising. I was about to turn into an ice statue.

I forced myself to walk to the windows, struggled with my stiffened, almost blue fingers to open them, to let in the warm air from outside. Finally, I managed to open one of the windows and I stood in front of it, to let myself be embraced by the warmth of the sun out there. I looked down the street – it was completely empty, the asphalt shining, reflecting the sun’s golden rays.

*

“And, how are the neighbors?”

I grinned into the telephone receiver.

“Any special ones?”

“Not really,” I said, and looked out the window, down my street. It's a huge city, looking as if it's the capital of the world, yet one could see the autumn here too, its shades of rusty gold and bronze. “Actually, there'll be someone...” I whispered, more to myself.

“Someone cute?” The inquisitive mind wanted to know.

“Ah, I don't know... I mean, I haven't seen him too closely to tell. But he seems alright.”

“You're talking riddles again, Richard.”

I laughed.

“Are you afraid someone will attempt to take him away from you?”

“No, it's not that. It's just... He's someone that lives on my street, don't know in which one of the buildings, but I saw him a few times on the street, waiting...”

“Maybe he only comes to visit someone that lives there.”

“Maybe... I only saw him there, waiting. I didn't go there to get a closer look at him.”

“You should go down there then, when he appears again, and take a good look at him,” I was advised.

I was planning to do so, but the guy didn't show up in the next days. Then, I had to leave New York. I returned, a short time after. I had fresh ideas to work on and a very tight time schedule. Not that I was complaining, I liked it that way. I was given a reason, a sense to my life.

One morning I entered this small coffee place on my street. I didn't usually go there, I had my own “hip” places, but that day I didn’t have time for any of those. I hadn’t slept all night again, and when I finally decided to detach myself from the studio and at least have some coffee, I discovered that the damn machine didn't want to work. Plugged in, switched on, the electricity was working fine throughout the house, but not this God damn stupid machine!

I was too tired, so I decided to drag myself to the small place on my street. Outside – still cold, the world almost turned into this ice cube over night, but now the sun rose above, casting golden pink rays, making everything sparkle like honey. I inhaled the sharp cold air and walked the few steps to the coffee place. The whole world seemed to be just waking up, stretching its joints numbed by the cold. It gave me such a peaceful feeling; I suddenly felt very awake, admiring and charmed by the surroundings. I was starting to actually feel happy that I had to get out of the house.

I got to that little place – very small, just a couple of tall tables with bright, light brown tops glittering in the sunlight coming through the window. The long bar was crowded with bottles of all sizes and shapes, there were clean glasses hanging above the counter, and in the corner, the espresso machine. Behind the counter was a pretty young girl, talking with the only customer in there – an old guy that had a dog on a leash. I asked her for a coffee and sat on one of those bar stools at the counter. I put my cigarette pack and lighter on the wooden surface of the bar and fetched myself an ashtray, just cleaned, still a bit damp and warm. I lit a cig and waited for the coffee. I turned and looked around the place, at the yellowish walls, the contrast they made with the dark silhouettes of the tables and the chairs, some decorations, sepia photos in black frames, the guy sitting in the corner at the last table... I turned my glance toward him to see him better. The guy on my street, waiting!

Nicely built, dark, almost black hair, and incredibly white skin on his face and hands. His face features looked familiar to me, with his well contoured lower jaw, and yet delicate traits. I...

g Here's your coffee, sir!”

The girl at the bar interrupted my reverie, and placed with clinging sounds, the cup on its plate. I looked at the dark liquid, vapors emerging lazily off its surface filling my nostrils with their enticing scent. I mixed it a bit and took a first sip, enjoying it fully. Each particle of me warmed, slowly coming back to life. I put the cup back on its plate. I dragged another smoke and then I turned to take another look at that guy.

There wasn't anyone sitting at any of those tables.

“Of course,” I mumbled under my breath.

*

I felt cold, as if a flat icy snake was crawling right under my skin and over my flesh. I knew I was lying down in my bed and I was conscious that I had to cover myself, but when I made the attempt to move, to drag the blanket over me, I realized I was paralyzed. My body refused to obey the command sent by my brain.

At the same time I was sure that there was someone in the house. In that instant, a trail of thoughts ran like a howling train through my head – I was alone here, thousands of kilometers away from everyone I knew and called friends.

Oh, this was stupid!

There was no one in the house. I only had to get up and see that there was no one. But when I attempted to move, I couldn't. It was more than feeling as if paralyzed, it was like I had been shut into this carcass, my body.

Move, you idiot!

But I just couldn't. Instead, my heart was racing like mad.

Fuck!

I had to stand up. I had to go see! I had to!

And my heart was beating even faster, while I had the feeling that all my insides would liquefy and pour out of me. I didn't know what frightened me more – the fact that someone was in the house, or the fact that I felt as if strapped to the bed. A prisoner of my own body.

This couldn't be real!

Then it dawned me – I was asleep. That's why I couldn't move. But I had to wake up to check, to see who was in the house and what they wanted.

Wake up!

I was trying to open my eyes. In the same time I was looking at the things in my room surrounding my bed.

Wake up!

I was forcing my eyelids to part as I was desperately looking at the door of my bedroom, as if expecting the intruder to show up there, any second from now.

Open your fucking eyes!

I was struggling to detach my head off my pillow and open my eyes. I was seeing, but in the same time realizing that I was still asleep and that I needed to stand up, to wake the fuck up, to go and check, fuck!, just move already!

Panic was consuming me, my liquefied insides were turning into ice.

He sat on the edge of my couch, near my body. The tip of his fingers traveled gently along my exposed forearm, the touch sending sweet, yet calming shivers throughout my fibers. He leaned a bit above me, his lips whispered to me gently, warm:

“Wake up.”

My eyes opened instantly. I was home. I was lying on my sofa, looking at the ceiling. It was in the afternoon – through the open window I could hear voices and street noises coming from outside. Also, muffled voices were coming from the TV.

I sat up slowly on the sofa and took a cig from the pack lying on the floor. I lit it, and dragged hungrily the first smoke. I rubbed my face with my hands. My heart was beating like mad, and the feeling of panic still lingered inside me, uncomfortably – I felt as if I had taken a trip to the Land of the Dead and back.

It was warm in the house though. I was alone.

To be continued...
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Beside You In Time