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More than a feeling	By : Alaine Category: Singers/Bands/Musicians > HIM Views: 1928 -:- 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.

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A/N

Sorry there’s been such a delay, but school has been really be a pressure on me the last few weeks. Anyway, here’s chapter 3, so enjoy!

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Eventually, Bam falls asleep again. His dreams are, once again, filled with flashes of images; green eyes, soft pink lips and brown curly hair. More soft touches, more sweet moans.

But this time, there are also flashes of soft brown eyes. Missy’s eyes. Angry eyes. Eyes, that are sparkling with unshed tears, tears of pain, tears of understanding, tears of sadness.

“Why Bam? Why?”

His eyes fly open, the images of Missy and Ville slowly disappearing. He bolts up. He bumps his head against the lamp. Annoyed, he looks up at it.

“Stupid, fucking lamp,” he swears softly.

“Don’t know why I hung it there in the first place. Don’t know why I bought it in the first place. Missy liked the lamp…”

He stops in mid-sentence. He remembers. Missy. Gone. The note. In the bin.

“I can’t take it anymore… Bam, are you trying to tell me something? … That you love someone else… that you love… Ville?”

He shakes his head, faster and faster, his hair flying around.

“No. No… NO!”

He slumps down, his head in his hands. Unable to stop it, unable to want to stop it, tears begin to fall. First just one, then soon more follow. Soon, he’s sobbing. Sobbing like he’s never sobbed before.

“I-I don’t…. DON’T love.. Ville!”

Eventually he can’t cry anymore. He has no more tears to shed.

He takes a deep breath and pulls himself together. He gets up and walks to the bathroom. He looks in the mirror. Blue eyes, with red-rimmed corners look at him. Messy, curly hair till his shoulders. A beginning beard is starting to grow. He’s a mess.

He walks back to his room and pulls open his cupboard. He grabs a shirt and some jeans. His foot brushes against something.

He looks down.

It’s the box. The box. With the photo’s. Of Ville. Hundreds of them.

Slowly, he bends and picks up the box. Gently, he brushes the dust from it. He dumps his clothes back in the cupboard and walks to the bed. He plops down, the box in his lap.

He opens the box. Ville. Ville. More Ville. He picks up a photo. It’s of him and Ville, taken the last time they were together. Ville has his arms wrapped around Bam’s waist, and smiles a cheeky smile in the camera. Bam looks slightly uncomfortable, but still manages a small smile.

He turns the photo around, to see when it was taken. Three months ago. He sighs and puts the photo back in the box. He closes the box, securing the lid tightly on top.

He walks back to his cupboard, takes out the clothes and lays them on the bed. Then, he resumes his way to the bathroom. Ten minutes later, he emerges from the bathroom, only a towel casually slung around his hips. His whole body, including his hair, is damp, leaving a wet track behind him.

Slowly, he starts drying himself of. First his hair, then his face, his neck, shoulders and the rest of his body, until he reaches his abdomen and his hips.

He stops and stares at himself. Tatoo’s are spread all over his skin. Heartagrams. Everywhere. Quickly, he covers himself up. He breathes.

Heartagrams remind him of Ville. And he doesn’t want to think about Ville. Thinking about Ville is wrong. Thinking about Ville, gives him a weird, slightly queasy feeling in his stomach. The feeling he always gets when he’s around Ville. It’s the feeling he’s supposed to get around Missy, not Ville.

He shakes his head and continues to dry himself of. He puts on his clothes and heads downstairs. On his way to the kitchen, he grabs a pen and a notebook. He sits down at the table and opens the notebook. He picks up the pen and starts writing.

“I do not love Ville. I love Missy. I am supposed to love Missy.”

Over and over again, he writes it, until he has written an entire page. He puts down his pen.

“What am I going to do?”

“I don’t know.”

“You should know.”

He shakes his head again. He’s talking to himself, to his inner-voice. He always does it when he’s confused about something. Just like now. Missy. Ville. Missy or Ville.

Ville.

Missy.

He snaps his fingers. He jumps up and grabs the phone. As quick as he can, he dials the number he wants to call. After what seems like an eternity, someone picks up.

“Hello?” A sleepy, and slightly agitated voice says.

“Hi Dana, it’s Bam. I was wondering if I could talk to Missy.”

It’s silent on the other end.

“Hello? Dana? Are you still there?”

“Yes.. yes, I’m still there. How did you know Missy is here?” Dana’s voice sounds suspicious.

“I don’t know, I thought it just seemed obvious to call you. Missy always goes to you when something’s up, so that’s how I know.”

Urgent whispering is heard on the background. Then he hears Dana’s voice again.

“Okay Bam. Here she is.”

Bam waits. He hears Dana whispering something to Missy, but he can’t hear it.

“Hello? Bam? It’s me. Missy.”

“Missy? Look, please come back. I think I’ve got it all figured out. I do NOT love Ville. I just know it. I really do.”

Missy doesn’t reply.

“Missy? Missy, please! Please come back! I-I need you…”

“Bam?”

“Yes, I’m still here,” Bam’s voice sounded desperate and hopeful in his own ears.

“Look. I know this is hard for you. But I don’t think it would be a good idea if I came home. We both know you don’t love me. We both know you don’t need me. We both know who you DO need. And that someone is Ville.”

“No. No, I’ve said it. I don’t love him. I love you! Come back… come back. Please…”

His voices cracks and he starts crying.

“Please Missy, believe me. I won’t go out again. I’ll never leave you again, only if you come back!”

“I’m sorry Bam.. I can’t. I just can’t,” Missy’s voice breaks.

“I’m sorry Bam. I have to go. I’ll speak to you soon.”

She ends the call.

Bam puts the phone down, feeling numb. She won’t believe him. No matter what he says, she won’t believe him.

He runs upstairs and grabs a photo of Missy. He shoves his hand into his pants and grabs his cock.

It’s limp. He starts stroking it, while looking at Missy’s photo, repeating her name, over and over.

His cock stays limp in his hand.

“Please.. Please work!” He grows frustrated. But no matter how hard he tries, he can’t grow hard.

He tears the photo into pieces and throws them in the bin. In the corner of his eyes, he catches a movement. A photo falls on the ground. He picks it up and turns it around.

It’s the photo of him and Ville, taken three months previously. Immediately, he senses the strange feeling in his stomach again, and then another feeling makes him freeze.

He’s growing hard. He’s growing hard by looking at Ville. He screams in desperation and frustration and throws the photo across the room with all his might.

Music makes him stop. It’s his phone. Someone’s calling him. He stalks over to his phone, flips it open and holds it close to his ear.

“Yes?” His voice is slightly out of breath. “Hello?”

“Hello sweetheart.”

He nearly drops the phone.

Ville. It’s Ville. His heart thumping wildly, he tries to reply casusally.

“Hey,” He gulps. “I-I haven’t spoken to you in a while. I know I haven’t called you, but I’ve been so busy with the show, you know how it is. And all those fangirls, geez, it’s unbelievable. And of course Missy. Woman, you know, they always want your attention and stuff!”

He give a shaky laugh and continues rambling.

“So, what have you been up to? You know, this is really a coincidence, I was just looking at some photo’s of you and me, and then I remembered it’s been a really long while ago since I’ve spoken to you, and now you call and it’s just so-“

Ville cuts him of, laughing softly.

“Bammie, energetic as always. I can’t say a word and you start rambling! But yes, you’re right.”

“W-what am I right about?”

“It hás been a long time ago since I’ve seen you. I was thinking, I’m coming to America next week, so what do you think about it?”

“T-think about what? W-what are you talking about? “ Bam stutters.

“Oh, sweetheart, have you been drinking too much? I think you have,” Ville says, amused and slightly concerned at the same time.

“No. No, I haven’t been drinking anything lately. Yes, it would be nice if you could come over, but I don’t think I have the time. The show and stuff. I have a really busy period coming up, with interviews and stuff, so I don’t think it’ll work.”

“Oh, alright…” Ville's voice sounds slightly strained and hurt. “Okay. I’ll see you later then.. maybe… another time.”

Bam cringes.

“Well.. Maybe you could come.. Next monday or something? I suppose I could cancel a couple of interviews and make some time,” Bam blurts out.

“Okay! I’ll see you then! Can you pick me up from the airport, I don’t feel like taking a cab. Last time I did it, the driver kept harassing me with questions and kept flirting with me.”

“O-okay.. I guess. I’ll come and pick you up,” Bam says, his voice quivering slightly.

“Okay, brilliant! I really miss you, you know… It’s been ages since I’ve seen you, so I really am looking forward to it. I have to go now, another interview. See you soon, sweetheart, and take care!”

“B-bye.”

Bam slowly puts the phone down.

He’s coming, Ville. Next week.

Bam feels a fluttering feeling in his stomach, soon joined with a slight feeling of dread and fear.

Did Ville notice the way he was acting on the phone, stuttering and tripping over his words?

He sighs and grabs his coat. He opens the front door, into the fresh morning air.

Surely it wouldn’t be too early to start drinking?

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Well, that turned out rather longer than I expected. I hope Ville wasn’t too out of character. Let me know what you think, and I’ll send the next chapter sooner!

Alaine.
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More than a feeling