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Tainted Love	By : FlameWolf666 Category: Singers/Bands/Musicians > Marilyn Manson Views: 3468 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Marilyn Manson or anything affiliated with him or the band. I don't know any of these famous people in real life and none of this story happened. This is fiction and just for fun. I make no profit from this.

Chapter List
- 6
- 7
- 8
Author's Note: And we begin the wangst in earnest this chapter. Lots of mopey Manson as well as heavy drinking. Rights to the song 'Coma White' belong to Marilyn Manson.
Chapter Seven: Separation Anxiety
Raven bolted upright in a cold sweat, a scream of terror still lingering on her lips from the horrible nightmare. The fact that she had woken up in a completely unfamiliar place didn't help her terror. Slowly, the memories of what happened returned and she began to relax. She was currently in a hotel with Johnny Depp. She had a fight with her boyfriend, Marilyn Manson, and was taking a couple days break to get her emotions in order. The whole situation was so surreal, Raven wasn't sure she wasn't still dreaming. With a sigh, she looked over at the clock to see what time it was. The glowing numbers read back '4:00 a.m.'
As she sat awake, memories of the dream that woke her came back. She had been at a concert with Manson, standing near the back of the stage while he sang. As she watched, a fan crawled from the crowd and began to dance with Manson. It all went pretty normally until the fan pulled out a wickedly sharp knife, beginning to stab the singer. Raven had run onto the stage just as security had tackled the man and Manson had gone to his knees. She had held his bleeding body in her arms, watching helplessly as his life ran from his body in crimson rivulets.
Raven shuddered at the memory, rubbing her goose-pimple covered arms. She found herself wishing she had grabbed a few of her books to read. Glancing at her red phone, she briefly considered calling Manson. Right now she really wanted to hear his voice. Despite her hesitation to call him, knowing everything that had gone on that night; she picked up the phone and dialed the number.
A ring tone playing 'Last Day on Earth' played in the darkness as a screen on a phone lit up. A pale, tattooed arm flailed around, groping for the ringing phone. Finally a pale, black nailed hand grasped the black plastic of the phone and flipped it open. “Mmph, Raven?” came a sleep muzzed growl from the singer as he sat up.
“Oh, fuck. You were asleep. I'm sorry, I'll call back later,” Raven stammered, feeling guilty and stupid.
“No! No. Its okay. Why are you calling so late,” he rasped out, sounding as if the prospect of her hanging up had snapped him fully awake.
“I... feel kinda silly now,” she whispered, picking at the silk sheets nervously.
“Tell me?” he pleaded, the roughness slowly leaving his voice.
“I had a nightmare. You were performing and I was watching you. A fan climbed onto the stage and he...,” Raven started, lapsing into silence as tears began to roll down her pale cheeks. Even though he was obviously alright, the image of him dying in her arms was too horrible to recount.
“What happened?” came a gentle whisper, urging her to continue.
“He... he stabbed you. You bled to death in my arms. I had to watch you die,” she sobbed, wrapping her arms around herself and rocking back and forth.
“Shh, shh. Its okay. I'm obviously safe, otherwise you wouldn't be talking to me,” he soothed gently, his baritone voice washing over her like warm water.
Despite the fact that he was right, Raven still found herself sobbing uncontrollably. The sight of him laying in her arms, bleeding to death, was all too real for her. “Oh hun, I wish I could be there to hold you right now,” Manson whispered gently, his voice caressing her where his hands couldn't.
“I wish you could too,” she whispered, tears still flowing freely down her pale cheeks as she gripped the phone.
“Go to Johnny,” he murmured softly, his voice sounding pained.
“But...,” she replied reluctantly, only to be hushed gently by Manson.
“You shouldn't be alone right now. He won't do anything beyond comfort you,” Manson assured, not sounding too sure himself.
“But..,” she began again, only to once again be shushed.
“Please. You can call me again later. Right now I want you to go to Johnny. I promise he won't mind that you woke him up for this,” the singer pleaded, his voice sounding strained.
“O-okay,” Raven whispered, taking a shaky breath.
“You'll be okay,” he whispered, his voice unusually tender.
“I... I'll call you later. Good night Marilyn,” she murmured into the phone, tears still trickling from her hazel eyes.
“Good night Raven,” he whispered before the phone went silent.
Raven got to her feet, wiping her eyes and turning on her bedside lamp. She gave her eyes a few moments to adjust before shuffling to her door. Opening the green door with a slight creak, Raven peered out into the inky black hallway. She had never been a big fan of leaving her room while it was dark out. Gathering her scant courage, the shaking female scampered out of her room and knocked on the red door that was a few feet down from her door. As she waited for an answer, she shifted from one foot to the other uneasily. It felt as if there was something behind her watching her, making the back of her neck prickle with fear.
Johnny opened the door slowly, hiding a yawn as he looked down at her with first confusion and then worry. “Raven? Come on in,” he offered, stepping out of the way so she could enter. Trying to ignore the fact that the actor was shirtless, Raven smiled at him in gratitude as she entered the huge room. This room was a light blue and had a huge, comfortable looking bed that looked recently slept in.
“Why are you awake so late? Are you okay?” the actor asked gently, putting on a black robe.
“I... I had a nightmare. I called Manson in tears and he sent me in here,” she replied quietly, looking away from him in shame.
“What was the nightmare?” he asked kindly, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder.
With a shaky voice, Raven once again recounted the disturbing dream; breaking down into sobs at the end. She was dimly aware of being taken into a gentle hug as a hand pet her shoulder length black hair. “You said you just called him right?” he asked gently, his deep voice rumbling in his chest and vibrating her cheek.
“Y-yeah but it didn't help. Just the thought of helplessly watching him die...,” she whispered, shuddering helplessly at the horrible image.
“It was just a dream. No matter how scary it was, it wasn't real,” he assured, just holding her gently.
“I can still feel his blood running through my fingers. The image of his life leaving his eyes is burned into my mind. I don't think I'll be sleeping again tonight,” she whispered, laughing bitterly while tears still rolled down her cheeks.
“Shhhh. Here, call him again and put him on speaker phone,” Johnny suggested, gently leading her to his bed and having her sit down.
“Wha?” she whimpered, looking up at the actor with tear-filled, confused eyes.
“Just trust me. I have an idea. I just hope he'll be up for it,” Johnny mused sitting next to her and hiding another yawn behind his hand.
“O-okay,” Raven stammered nervously, flipping open the phone and hitting the call button. A few rings later and a gruff voice answered.
“Raven?! Are you with Johnny? Are you okay?” came a barrage of questions from the obviously worried singer.
“Yes, I'm fine. Johnny's right here beside me. He suggested I call. Can I put you on speaker phone?” she asked, looking at Johnny with unsure hazel eyes.
“Yeah, sure,” Manson replied, sounding confused and curious.
Raven hit a button on the phone and the sounds from Manson's end filled the room. “Marilyn, ya there?” Johnny semi-yelled, wanting to be sure the singer heard him.
“I'm here! You don't have to shout! Now, why am I on speaker phone?” Manson asked, his voice full of curiosity.
“Well, Raven just told me about her nightmare and she's understandably distraught. I propose me being your arms,” the actor offered tentatively.
Silence permeated the room as Raven stared at Johnny as if he had grown two heads. There was no way Manson would agree to such a thing! “Would you keep it platonic?” Manson snarled, his voice sounding an odd mix of angry and desperate. Raven looked at her deep red phone with an expression of stunned horror.
“Of course. Brian, she's all yours. I promise,” Johnny assured softly, not sounding the least bit offended.
“I-is he... are you offering what I think you are?” Raven squeaked, backing away from Johnny while clutching her phone.
“Easy Raven. I promise it will be no more than a hug and it won't even really be from me. Just think of it like a proxy hug,” he assured, staying where he was to give her some space.
“Raven, please. I know this isn't ideal for either of us but at least this way I can offer you some modicum of comfort,” Manson urged. The singer was gripping his phone so hard his knuckles were white and his eyes ere shut tight as he silently begged her to accept the proposal. It was literally tearing him apart to hear her this distraught and be unable to hold her.
“O-okay,” Raven agreed, looking at Johnny with a mix of embarrassment and shyness.
“Johnny, could you... hug her for me,” Manson whispered, sounding as if the request caused him great pain. In truth, he was far more bothered by Johnny touching her than anything else. If he had his way, he would be the one holding her.
Raven went stiff as the devastatingly handsome actor gently gathered her into his lightly muscled arms and held her gently. Then he began to slowly rock back and forth. From the phone in her hand came soft, soothing noises as she was rocked. Closing her eyes, Raven slowly began to relax as she allowed herself to believe it was Manson who was comforting her. “I'm right here. I'm safe,” the singer purred as a nose burrowed itself into her hair.
Sighing softly, the black haired female leaned back into the lightly muscled chest of the man behind her. “It was so real,” she whimpered, keeping her eyes shut while the man holding her rocked her.
“I know, but it wasn't I'm still alive,” Manson murmured as a nose brushed tenderly against her ear. A shudder of arousal coursed through her body as she bit her lower lip.
“I'm so happy you're okay,” Raven whispered, a tear escaping from one shut lid. A gentle thumb brushed it away and a gentle kiss was placed on her cheek. The faint brush of stubble made her brow knit in confusion. Wasn't it Manson holding her?
“Try to get some sleep,” the performer urged gently as she was slowly laid down on the silk sheets.
“W-will you sing to me?” Raven asked shyly as lightly muscled arms wrapped around her waist from behind.
“Of course. What do you want to hear?” Manson replied, sounding half amused.
“Sing me 'Coma White'?” she asked timidly, smiling as a ward blanket was carefully tugged over her.
“There's something cold and blank behind her smile,” Manson began, his voice sounding hauntingly sad.
“She's standing on an overpass in her miracle mile,” Raven responded, her voice sounding just as sad and haunted. A male gasp from behind her made her almost startle. That certainly hadn't sounded like Manson.
“You were from a perfect world,” the performer hissed, sounding almost accusing.
“A world that threw me away today, today, todaaaayayay. To run away,” Raven belted, sounding just as accusing as well as a bit bitter.
“A pill to make you numb,” Manson whispered, sounding a bit shaken. The last line she had sang had struck a chord deep within him. Someone had thrown her away. He would have to ask for a story later.
“A pill to make you dumb,” she snarled, practically spitting the words.
“A pill to make you anybody else,” they sang together, Raven sounding bitter and jaded.
“But all the drugs in this world,” Manson began, slipping from the normal tone of the song to sounding sympathetic. It sounded as if Raven had been put on a plethora of pills to help mental problems that didn't exist.
“Won't save her from herself,” Raven finished, sounding resigned and sad.
“Her mouth was an empty cut,” the singer whispered, sounding comforting. From the sounds of it, she had also hit rock bottom.
“And she was waiting to fall,” she whispered, longing and sadness laced in her voice. The man behind her tightened one arm around her and was petting her hair.
“Just bleeding like a polaroid that lost all her dolls,” Manson murmured as a hand caressed her cheek gently.
“Cause you were from a perfect world,” Raven responded, her voice beginning to fade as she started to doze. The gentle petting and the sound of Manson's voice was lulling her to sleep.
“A world that threw me away today, today, todaaaayayay. To run away,” the performer whispered, his voice soft and gentle.
“A pill to make you numb,” Raven mumbled, slipping into a deep slumber.
“Goodnight Raven,” Manson whispered as Johnny spooned the sleeping female.
Raven awoke disoriented and startled, sitting up in a light blue bed. Blinking blearily, memories of the night before slowly came back. As she remembered the phone call and Johnny holding her, Raven turned a bright red. She had herself convinced it had been Manson holding her but it had really been Johnny burrowing his nose in her hair. It had been Johnny giving her that kiss on the cheek. It had been Johnny that had held her while she slept. Suddenly Raven felt very guilty as well as confused.
The haunting melody of a familiar and yet dreaded ring tone broke her from her thoughts. With a shaky hand, she grasped the deep red phone and pressed the answer button. “Raven?” came a very tired male voice from the other end.
“M-manson. Last night was... awkward,” Raven whispered, pinching the bridge of her nose.
Meanwhile, Amanda had awoken and stumbled downstairs for some coffee to find almost all of the band gathered in the living room. Telling herself it wasn't worth the gray hairs, she moved towards the living room anyway; bracing herself for the high blood pressure she was about to have. Sure enough there stood her coffee table, broken in half with a very satisfied looking keyboardist standing in the middle of the ruins. The amusement in his brown eyes was the last straw. “Run...,” Amanda hissed, her brown eyes almost turning red from rage.
“Are you sure its okay?” Raven asked, a frantic edge to her voice while she paced the room. She had told him everything Johnny had done without hesitation. She would never hide anything, no matter how damning, from Manson.
“Raven, try to calm down. Listen to me closely, its okay. I'm not the least bit mad at you,” Manson assured, his baritone voice like velvet.
“A-are you sure?” she whispered, not quite daring to believe that he wasn't furious.
“Yes. You were distraught and needed comfort. That's all that happened from what you told me,” he whispered, sounding comforting and gentle.
“Get the fuck back here so I can beat your ass Madonna Wayne Gacy!” came a garbled, female scream from the other end.
“Sorry, I have to go. Even if he deserves it, I have to stop her from killing him,” Manson sighed, sounding aggravated. He pinched the bridge of his nose as he let out a frustrated groan. This was exactly what he didn't need right now.
“Yeah, you better hurry from the sounds of it. Bye and good luck,” Raven chuckled, allowing relief to wash through her. Manson wasn't mad. She had been over thinking everything again. With a small smile, she hung up the phone and left Johnny's room to get dressed.
Raven stared into her bag, a look of embarrassed horror on her face. In her haste to pack her bags she hadn't paid attention to what she was grabbing. Her bag only had Marilyn Manson t-shirts in it, also there was the fact that the over-sized ones were her only pajamas. This certainly wasn't going to help her case with Jerome or anyone she encountered who happened to recognize her from the tabloids. “Well, this is a fine kettle of fish you've gotten yourself into,” Raven grumbled, reaching into the bag and grabbing one of her favorite shirts. If she was going to look like a fool, she was at least going to enjoy what she was wearing.
Johnny had been sipping on a cup of coffee when Raven finally came out of her bedroom. He couldn't help the eyebrow quirk or the small chuckle at her attire. “Oh hush. Its all I had packed,” the small female sputtered, going brick red as she slowly came into the room.
“So you're a big fan of his, hmm?” Johnny teased, looking at her through half lidded eyes.
“Yes. There was a point in my life where his music helped me survive,” she whispered, not meeting his eyes as she sat on the other side of the table.
“Have you told him this?” the actor asked gently, setting aside his coffee.
“Not yet. Our relationship is so new, I kinda wanna save just how obsessed I was with him for a bit later,” Raven whispered reluctantly, keeping her gaze fixed on the top of the table.
“How obsessed are you?” he asked quietly.
“Was I. I wasn't crazy enough to look up his address or stalk him. I have a crap ton of shirts with his face on them, several posters and all of his CDs. All I wanted to do was get a chance to meet him. Maybe even become his friend. ,” she admitted, clenching her pale hands on top of the table.
“Well, it seems you've certainly gotten more than that. So, about last night...,” he began, placing a comforting hand on top of hers.
Pogo stood in the kitchen, the table the only thing separating him from a very angry Amanda. “Get your ass over here so I can kick it,” she snarled, circling the table. To her frustration, the mohawked man merely moved the opposite direction she was heading. His brown eyes shone with amusement as he grinned crazily at her.
“Now why would I want to do that?” he chirped in a cheerful voice that made her blood boil. The jerk sounded proud of himself!
“Now hold on. Just what happened?” came an exasperated voice from the entryway of the kitchen.
“He broke my coffee table! I got that from my grandmother,” snarled the curly haired woman, her eyes narrowing at Manson.
“Oh shit, really? God I'm really sorry,” Pogo whispered, all mirth leaving his face. As Amanda and Manson watched, the bleach blonde, mohawked man circled the table to stand in front of the small woman. The intimidating keyboardist had his head bowed and a look of contriteness on his face.
Both Amanda and Manson looked at him with their jaws dropped. Neither of them had expected this reaction. “I humbly accept any punishment you deem fit to bestow upon me,” he murmured with his head still bowed. His words earned another look of shock from his companions. They hadn't expected him to know such large words either.
Amanda looked at the towering keyboardist in an assessing manner while Manson moved to the cupboards. With an aggravated noise, the curly, brown haired woman gently punched Pogo's arm. “I was just saying that to see if you would feel any remorse. Its good to know that you'll actually feel bad if you break anything of sentimental value,” she remarked, with a sly grin.
“Heh, I'll have to get you back for that,” Pogo growled, the playful gleam returning to his eyes.
“Just don't break any of the statues. Those actually are of sentimental value,” Amanda growled, putting her hands on her bony hips as she glared up at the much taller man.
“Consider it done. Also, how much was that coffee table?” he asked, sitting down in a chair at the table.
Manson rolled his eyes at the pair as he dug out two familiar bottles of booze. “Already at the alcohol this morning?” came a concerned voice from behind the singer. Tensing slightly, Manson turned his baleful, mismatched gaze to see Ginger regarding him with exhausted concern.
“I have a hang over,” he growled, pouring a bit of Absinthe into a short glass.
“But that's not the only reason you're drinking is it?” the drummer asked softly, placing a hand on his friend's bare arm.
“Don't start this Ginger,” Manson hissed, warning thick in his voice as he added in an equal amount of Vodka.
“He has a point,” came a concerned female voice. Turning to glare pointedly at Amanda, Manson knocked back the strongly alcoholic fluid with only a slight wince.
“Raven would be really worried if she knew you were drinking like that,” the curly haired female whispered, watching as he began to fill in another glass.
Manson visibly flinched but didn't stop preparing his drink. With a swift flick of his thin wrist, the greenish fluid disappeared in one swallow. “That was a low blow,” he hissed as he filled his glass for the third time.
“Hey, slow down. She's not like the others man, she'll come back,” Pogo assured, coming to stand beside Ginger.
“Fuck you! I know that! Christ, I already miss her,” the rock star hissed, his hair hanging in his face as he clenched his hands on the white marble counter top. Then he swallowed his drink with a small shudder. Couldn't they understand that it was either get drunk or go crazy? As he began to fill a fourth glass, he was extremely aware of the worried gazes of the others in the kitchen.
Johnny had assured her that he had meant nothing by anything he had done last night. He had merely been doing what he thought Manson would have. Though, deep down inside, the actor knew it had been for a very different reason. At first he had only wanted to provide comfort but then she had started to sing and he had been lost. Although he would never admit it, he had fallen for the black haired female.
Currently said female was walking along the shelves of a used video game store, oohing and aahing over their wares. Johnny watched her with a fond smile, amusement dancing in his brown eyes. He couldn't help but envy Manson for having this woman's heart. If it had been any other circumstances he would have begun courting her himself. As it was, he found himself content to be her friend.
Raven looked at two games on the shelves, drool practically running from her mouth as she looked at them with sheer want. There on the shelves was an unopened copy of 'Conker's Bad Fur Day' and an unopened copy of 'Super Mario RPG'. The collector in her practically howled at her to get them but the prices were far too rich for her blood. The 'Conker's' was $250 and the 'Super Mario RPG' was $150, both way out of her price range. With one last, forlorn look, Raven moved past them. None of this was lost on Johnny, who had been watching her closely.
By the time Raven was ready to leave, Johnny had disappeared somewhere in the huge store. With a small smile, the black haired female decided to browse more. He would find her when he was ready and she honestly didn't mind spending longer in the store. She enjoyed the smell of the older games and some of them even instilled happy memories.
A few minutes later, she felt a gentle hand on her shoulder and turned to see Johnny smiling down at her. Mischief danced in his brown eyes as he asked her if she was ready to go. “Oh, sure,” Raven replied, looking at him with a mixture of curiosity and bewilderment. Johnny smiled in response, offered his bare arm to her. Blushing slightly, Raven took his arm in a loose grip and allowed him to lead her from the shop.
Raven collapsed on the huge, white couch with a sigh of relief. She didn't notice Johnny whisper into Jerome's ear or the bodyguard's imperceptible nod of agreement. Leaning her head back on the back of the couch, Raven shut her hazel eyes and sighed in contentment. “Its good to be back,” she murmured softly.
“We only went to one shop,” Johnny responded, sounding amused. Normally women were up for shopping all day.
“I'm not much for 'mall walking'. I prefer to just get what I want and leave,” she responded, cracking one eye open and looking back at him with a small smile.
“But you didn't get anything,” he remarked, sitting on her right side on the couch.
“I don't have the money to spend on games right now but its always fun to go see what they have on occasion. Sometimes I just like seeing some of my favorite games on a store shelf again,” Raven replied, looking over at him with a sad smile.
The door being opened startled them both, both of them turning to look at the door. In the door stood Jerome with his hands behind his back, looking placidly at Johnny from behind his dark sunglasses. “Close your eyes,” Johnny requested, suddenly sounding like a small boy on Christmas. Quirking a brow in confusion, Raven shrugged and closed her eyes. What harm could it do to play along?
There was a flurry of movement and a faint rustling of bags before the door shut and Johnny was sitting beside her again. Two plastic bags with vaguely rectangle shapes inside were placed on her lap and she felt them blindly. It felt like there were two semi-large boxes inside two separate plastic bags on her lap. “Open you eyes,” the actor suggested, his voice breathless with excitement.
Raven opened her eyes to see two innocuous white plastic bags on her lap and Johnny staring at her with an excited and yet anxious look. “Go ahead! Look in the bags,” he urged, looking like he was on the edge of his seat. Blinking in confusion, the black haired female reached into the first bag and pulled out the unopened 'Conker's Bad Fur Day.' A small gasp left her lips as happiness and gratitude filled her.
“J-johnny,” she whispered, looking at him with tear-filled, hazel eyes.
“Don't thank me yet. Look at the other one,” he responded, a huge smile now on his goateed face.
Having a suspicion of what it was, Raven pulled it free with a gasp of happiness. It was the unopened 'Super Mario RPG.' “Oh thank you,” she whispered, throwing her arms around his neck and giving him a tight hug.
Manson had been banished upstairs by his band as well as Amanda. He now sat in his dark room, Kathy clutched to his shirtless chest. He was heavily drunk and swayed slightly while he sat on his black sheets. All he wanted was another drink. So far nothing had even come close to stopping the pain from missing Raven. Running a shaky, pale hand through his shoulder length, black hair, Manson heaved a shaky sigh. How was it he had become so attached to her so strongly so fast? A more important question was if he could stand to be away from her for another day?
Raven awoke, hysterical sobs bubbling just behind her lips as her frightened hazel eyes stared blindly into the dark room. Gasping and desperately trying to get herself back under control, the black haired female clicked on her bedside lamp and buried her head in her hands. It had been the same nightmare as before. Only this time Manson had confessed his love for her just as he died. Her heart an aching sore in her chest, Raven reached for her phone and dialed a familiar number.
Manson had been pacing his room while holding tight to the dog plush, planning how he was going to get another glass of booze when the familiar ring tone went off. Practically diving for his phone, the singer fumbled with it for a few breathless moments before he managed to get it open. “Raven?” he whispered, knowing he sounded very drunk but not caring at the moment. All that mattered to him was hearing her voice. It was the only thing that would relieve his torment.
“Marilyn? You sound drunk,” came her forlorn voice, making a spike of guilt stab in his heart. She sounded like she had another nightmare and here he was drunk as a lord.
“I... I'll call some other time,” she whispered, hitching in a small, frightened sob.
“No! Please! Let me comfort you,” he pleaded, wanting nothing more than to pull her into his arms. The despair in her voice was fairly eating at him on the inside.
“I had the nightmare again,” she whispered softly.
Raven held the deep red phone tightly, her hazel eyes shut as tears rolled down her pale cheeks. The sight of him as his life slowly ebbed was still fresh in her mind. She didn't care if it was early, she wanted to go home tomorrow. After two nights of the same nightmare, she was understandably a little paranoid. At that moment all she wanted was to be curled up in the singer's arms while he assured her he was alright. Nothing else mattered. “Shh, I'm here. I'm safe. It was just a dream,” he murmured as comfortingly as he could while he was so drunk.
“Oh Manson, I don't care that you got that whore. I heard from Ginger that you insisted on calling her my name. I guess I had to come to terms with the fact that you need sex more than I do and only did what you did so you wouldn't push yourself on me,” she whispered, love and desperation filling her voice. Seeing him die twice in her dreams had instilled a strong need to get her feelings out in the open.
Manson hitched in a breath, his grip tightening on his phone as his mismatched eyes closed in relief. “Thank you,” he whispered, the sense of relief so great that he nearly went to his knees. A deep sense of happiness rose through the drunkenness and he smiled. He could get through tonight and tomorrow just knowing she had forgiven him. It frightened him slightly that she had such a power over his emotions but he found himself not caring. He couldn't bare the thought of being without her now.
Raven curled up in her bed, pulling the deep red, silk sheets up to her pale chin. Smiling softly, she closed her eyes. “Sing 'Coma White'?” she asked shyly, holding the phone tightly to her ear. Then the singer began to sing and she drifted off to the sound of his baritone voice caressing her.
A frantic knocking on the front door jolted her out of a sound sleep. Raven sat up, stifling a yawn as she heard Johnny padding toward the door. Rubbing the sleep out of her eyes, the sleepy female stumbled into the living room to see the actor open the door and a frantic Ginger come running in. The sight of the man looking so scared immediately woke the black haired female up and she moved toward him. “Ginger, what?” Raven asked, her hazel eyes full of concern as she took in the drummer's state.
The bleach blonde turned to her, relief and fear fighting for dominance in his brown eyes. “Raven, Dita called. Manson's on a rampage,” he gasped, holding the stitch in his side as he panted.
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Tainted Love