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Vodka Cranberry	By : copperboom Category: Singers/Bands/Musicians > Rammstein Views: 1770 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not know Rammstein or any of their members. I do not profit from these writings.

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VODKA CRANBERRY
“Come, sit with me,” Richard said. I looked at him. He had that face on. The one he knows I can’t resist. He had finally come home from being on tour for months. I met up with him when I could, but having him home for a good long while made me feel better.
Let me tell you how I came to inhabit my dream…
I was at the lake for a jog, I had my earphones in. I was listening to my usual shuffle of Rammstein. The breeze was gentle and warm as it brushed my face, and I was basking in it. A tap on my shoulder nearly scared me out of my skin. I turned around to see who the dead person was and standing there in all of his glory was Richard Zven Kruspe.
My organ function failed for a fleeting moment while I attempted gather my thoughts. He was saying something but all I could hear were the lyrics to Du Riechst So Gut growling in my ears.
“What,” I said a little too loud.
He reached out a hand, brought it towards my face, and pulled out my earphones.
“You dropped this back there,” his velvety German accent lulled to me.
“Th-thank you,” I stammered as he handed my lip balm to me. “There’s a good chance I could die without this.”
His eyes crinkled as he chuckled at me. (Really Anna. That’s what you said to him. Really?)
“You want to walk with me,” he asked. It almost wasn’t a question. A smile still played at the corners of his beautiful mouth.
“Absolutely,” I replied, trying not to sound too eager. It was a job keeping my mouth from grinning like a school girl.
“My name is Richard,” he introduced himself as he stretched his hand out. I grasped it as best I could.
“I know who you are. My name is Anna.”
I was staring into his eyes. Beautiful blue.
“Oh you do?”
He smirked at me.
“Shall we walk then?”
He gestured his arm out for me to go first. My tongue felt numb, as did the rest of me.
That afternoon we talked about music, food, what it was like to be touring America again, etc. We must’ve walked around that lake 3, 10 times. I can’t remember. I could hear his phone buzzing every fifteen minutes or so, but he never once checked it. When we finally sat down, he did take his phone out to check it, then made a call.
We were sitting close enough that I could hear the other person saying “Hallo!”. I was pretty sure it was Paul. I again tried to contain my excitement while I pretended to check my phone.
“Our bus is ready for us to go now,” he told me, almost sadly as her replaced his phone. I could see in his eyes that he didn’t want to go, but he had to. They were nearly done with their US tour and their bus had broken down just outside my town.
That’s why he was up here. He had a cab pick him up from the hotel they were hiding at (though I doubted anyone in this town would’ve recognized any of them), and came up here. Being stuck on a bus with six guys, though they were like family, grates your nerves after a while. He had decided to take a walk and get some fresh air.
I told him, reluctantly, that I could take him back to his hotel. The weather had been fittingly perfect for this day. He walked so close to me that our arms grazed each other I felt electric. We made it to the car and as I went go to the driver’s side, he stopped me by grabbing my forearm.
Richard, standing there, looking at me, pulled out his pack of cigarettes and slowly took one out. He dug in his pocket for his lighter, and I took his cue getting out my own pack. Before I could look for my lighter, he had put his in front of me.
He lulled to me, “Here, let me get that for you.”
He had an amused smile playing on his lips. Sweet mustache! How badly I wanted to press mine on them.
“What,” I asked, grinning like a goon.
“Your eyes are stunning. Like warm honey.”
He smiled, looking away as he watched the ash flick off his cigarette. Then his eyes came back to mine. I smiled back at him, my face the deepest shade of rurple (red and purple). Or red. Or urple. Either way I was happily embarrassed.
“Thank you,” I murmured as I reached for his hand.
We were only inches apart as I grasped his hand. I relaxed my grip almost as soon as we had touched, but it didn’t fall. We stood there, cigarette in one hand, each other’s hand in the other. He took a drag and I mirrored him. This was the scene until we both flicked our cigarettes away. As soon as he did so, his hand came slowly to my cheek. My pulse quickened. We stared deeply into each other’s eyes, until the moment was broken by the buzzing sound of his phone. Hesitantly he dropped his hands.
“Ja,” he answered.
I moved to get in the car, but he grabbed my hand again. Our staring contest started over. As I listened to his side of the conversation, his eyes seemed to brighten.
“The guys were talking and thought we should stay here and rest up because we have some days left before our next show,” he explained after he hung up. Then his face looked sad as he continued, “But one person disagreed.”
“Oh,” I almost sighed, an air of sadness lingering after it.
“Nah! I’m just kidding! Everyone agreed. They just wanted to check with me before a final decision was made.”
“You cheeky slag,” I exclaimed grasping his hand tighter. “Get in the car.”
“No,” he announced defiantly.
He slipped an arm around my waist and pulled me to him. His other hand gently cupped my cheek. Then his lips were on mine.
As our mouths moved in sync my lips burned with longing. A fire began to spread through my body starting every place where his body touched mine. It was a fairytale kiss. There should have been fireworks exploding behind us. A beautiful perfect moment.
My phone broke this magical moment by singing, “Snape. Snape. Severus Snape.”
“What in the world is that?”
“My ringtone.”
It was Chrissy, my best friend and housemate.
“This is your captain speaking,” I answered.
“When are you coming home? I’m hungry,” she whined.
“Chrissy,” I stated. “I am standing directly in front of Richard Kruspe.”
“What? You’re fucking with me, right?”
“No. I’m as serious as Frodo taking the ring to Mount Doom.”
“Whoa! Dude!”
“Yeah. I’ll call you back in a little while.”
“Okay.” Even she sounded dazed.
I turned all of my attention back to the beautiful man standing in front of me. I put on my most dazzling smile and said, “Shall we?”
Once we were in the car and I had started it, I remembered I had his CD in there. The song ‘New York City’ was just starting.
“Well this is awkward,” I said as I moved to change the CD.
“No,” he reached his hand out to stop me. Electricity once again bolted through me. “It is my album. I listen to it every now and again.”
“Ok, then. Works for me,” I replied. Then I started to sing along. I heard him chuckle and immediately stopped.
“Sorry,” I mumbled sheepishly.
“No! It’s ok. I was just amused at the passion you put into those words. Have you ever been there?”
“No, I haven’t. Your music does speak to me though. It’s like your lyrics stream from your mouth and latch onto me.”
“I was just curious.” He placed a reassuring hand on my shoulder, then dropped it to my knee.
Was he crazy?! I’m trying to bring him safely, in one piece, back to his hotel. I tried to not think about it too much.
“Um…where are you staying,” I asked him, realizing I didn’t know where to go.
“Oh, right. We are at the Holiday Inn Express,” he told me.
“Ok.”
Now that I knew where I was going, I put the car in drive, then placed my right hand on top of his. We stayed that way the whole drive. Hands together and him listening to me sing along to the music he wrote.
            *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *
I turned the car into the parking lot and stopped right in front of the door. I began fiddle with the volume and controls, not knowing what I should say. He also seemed to be hesitating about something. I felt his hand squeeze mine and I brought my eyes to his.
            “You should park and come up with me,” he said finally breaking the silence.
            I hesitated for a few seconds, minutes though they seemed. “Whoa,” I thought to myself. “What am I doing? I love this man, but I don’t know this man.” My heart got the better of me.
            “Ok,” I finally told him. He smiled, happy with both our decisions I think. Fuck, I loved that smile!
            We walked into the lobby, me trailing behind him. When he slowed down and began scanning for the elevator, I grabbed his hand and led him to them. I knew this hotel. My relatives stayed here when they visited. There wasn’t anyone else in the elevator, and he didn’t let go of my hand until we reached his floor.
            I followed him to his room, where he held the door open for me. I could smell tobacco and the faintest bit of his cologne. Smelled like heaven to me.
            “Do you mind if I take a shower,” he asked me.
            “No. Not at all,” I told him, thinking about what he looked like naked.
            “Go ahead and make yourself at home. There are drinks in the fridge there.”
            I did as I was told while he went into the bathroom, but didn’t close the door all the way. I went to the fridge. Yay! Vodka! I made myself a vodka cranberry and sat down on the couch that was farthest from the door. From there I could see his reflection in the mirror opposite the bathroom.
            I tried to look away and noticed a guitar case in the corner by the window. I smiled just thinking about the beauty in there. Oh to be something Richard loves so dearly! He came out of the bathroom, still dry, shirt off and pants nearly undone. ‘Rawr’ was all I could think. He grabbed the remote off the TV stand and brought it to me. Then he reached for my glass.
            “Why thank you! You made me a drink!”
            “Uh, no,” I said as I moved my arm away from him. “This is my drink. You have to make your own Sunshine.”
            He assumed I was teasing and leaned right over me, pushing me down on the couch, and grabbed the glass. His nose was only centimeters from mine as he whispered, “Let me taste that.” There are other things I’d have preferred he tasted, but I settled for putting my lips on his.
            “Okay,” I said dreamily as he gently pulled back.
            “Mmm…Vodka cranberry. Light on the cranberry. My favorite,” he teased.
            “Now go do me a favor and get naked and take that shower, but leave the door open again,” I commanded him.
            He kissed me gently, “Ok”.
            Then there was a knock at the door. I let him get it as I sat there moving my drink from hand to hand. My phone went off again, text this time, same ‘Snape’ ringtone. I stopped it as quickly as I could, but it was too late. I heard someone say, “Lucy! You have some ‘splainin’ to do!”
**NO COPYRIGHT INFRINGEMENT INTENDED ON ALL POP CULTURE REFERENCES**
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Vodka Cranberry