I Drink in Your Presence Like a Bottle of Chandon chapter 1/1 AoixUruha
Title: I Drink in Your Presence Like a Bottle of Chandon
Chapters: 1/1
Author: mxtrxofsomer
Genre: romance
Band(s): the GazettE
Pairing: Aoi x Uruha
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: not much
Synopsis: “nothing is the same ever since”
Notes: i'm late but this fic is dedicated to the birthday boy. xD
This is you sitting on the floor, holding your precious instrument close, gently strumming its strings while adjusting the tone to your own liking, and occasionally mouthing the lyrics into silent hum of words to see how your little vocalist has flawlessly matched your written hymn to his own sonnet, and you admire it secretly -the harmony you have created, not just because you’re not so good with solid phrases but also because Ruki is intelligent as he is; you and your band mates are lucky to have such talent working with you.
You are quite contented in solitude, just playing your guitar or simply called your best companion even if the presence of your four band mates are lurking elsewhere, visible or not, but you can sense and you don’t let it bother you; you and they have learned to understand a kind of empathy, the one which peacefully leaves the other in his own world in the times seclusion is necessary for either creative thinking or deep reflection or both. You let the tune carry you somewhere else, someplace like paradise, your haven, similar to the one you have when you’re performing at lives and you imagine yourself on the stage, your own stage, with the blaring lights above your head and the sticky heat on your skin, the noises buzzing in your ears and then you’re completely lost. You don’t mind it really, because it’s addicting, has greater effects than any kind of drug and that is why you love it so much, the actual reason why you don’t do drugs. Escape, you call it that name for it has all the elements of bliss your one aspect of life fails to grasp but when a flash of scenery reminds you of it, you struggle to keep yourself but you always end up stumbling.
You wonder if you really are capable of building your own wall for your senses are always precise and to you, it never goes unnoticed when someone dares to conquer your personal space. You are possessive with your own privacy but there are certain people who easily destroy the barriers without much effort, you do not know how they do it, but you hate it, you definitely hate it because you are not the vulnerable type and seeing through you is something very despicable.
You are totally occupied while the room is all yours and you are relieved that it is, until you realize that you aren’t truly alone, finally noticing the other presence, the only aura lingering in the same place as you, watching with all eyes from behind that makes the hairs all over your body stand to their ends. Gradually, your heaven shies away, leaves you to hide from a prying gaze while the melody you’re playing dies into non-artistic notes, dead and compulsory, the kind of sounds you loathe because you are a son of music for eternity’s sake but you’re being a huge humiliation at the moment. You try to will your hands to cooperate and not break away from the remaining dignity you have but unfortunately, your fingers slip from too much effort and you miss the beat, then you know that it’s finished; you are trapped. You hiss with a certain degree of annoyance but you don’t let the moving air take it to his ears; it’s not too helpful if he hears.
He walks in silence but you can clearly feel his footsteps coming towards your direction so you mutely pray that he only passes you by to get something then go out again but the gods don’t hear your desperate pleas and instead they actually bring him to you as if they have ordered him to pause directly beside where you are seated. He stands there uninvited but with known intimacy towards you and he just stares but you don’t look up to meet his eyes for you already know who he is without needing any confirmation. You sarcastically ask yourself how but your pulse speeds up and that answers your own question. You sigh sourly, only not letting it appear in your features and finally stare back. Memory floods your brain and you instantly regret gazing at the depth of his orbs.
You use to be not the person that you are now, use to be not the shadow you see mirrored in his brown irises, use to be not the being who currently sits pathetically on the floor with a rapid pounding heart, mindless and without the ability to comprehend his emotions that are seemingly fond of mixing themselves together without permission. You use to be confident, not that you have lost faith in yourself, but rather, you can not to be trusted with handling yourself at certain unpredicted circumstances. You are not the same as you are almost two years ago before he interfered and you do not like what you are today, what you have become just because you have allowed yourself to be affected that you began to read too much. You’re slowly turning crazy, you are aware of it, but you don’t know how to save yourself.
Madness, if only you can take back what he has stolen from you that damned day, if you have maintained your sanity to avoid adrenaline and its dizzying stimulus and save it for something else, something probably less electrifying or blood-burning but at least something that won’t get you injured. But these are only if onlys so now you can’t do anything about it but blame him for planting improper thoughts in your head, thoughts that jag disturbances on the regularity of your body system and thoughts that did not occur to you not until that moment, the few important seconds of your life that his lips touched yours and you saw an explosion, several tiny wings fluttering inside your stomach. It was all so overwhelming, you swear you could have died then and there. For the small parts you hate him to his innermost core because he has crushed you into tiny pieces but in reality it’s yourself that you despise the most because you consider the idea of being in love.
“Hey Aoi.” Grinning at you, he sits himself on the spot beside your place without gaining your consent and you almost instinctively roll your eyes at him for doing so but you hold your irritation to yourself and you even shake it off with a surprisingly polite smile etched on your face. You don’t speak an utterance though and you are both unbearably quiet but you opt to stay that way because you don’t have anything good to say. After some more minutes of tranquility, he exhales loudly enough to catch your attention and you turn to him involuntarily. When you find him staring at you, you witness something on his features, perhaps in the way his elegant eyebrows are crossed in thought or the way his eyelids seem to flutter airily or the way his bow-shaped lip sticks out that makes your breath hitch a little, warming the sides of your face. You automatically direct your gaze away before he can have the chance to take a glimpse of whatever it is that is evident in your physique which will give away all the clues. You force your head into your palm and you suddenly want to knock yourself out on the floor so you can be rational again.
He lightly, very lightly taps your shoulder to perhaps comfort you but you just swallow, nearly jerking away for his hand sends you a bolt of current that begins to crawl from your point of contact, sinking in your skin, and surging through your nervous stream that your heart slowly melts into a puddle of thick blood. You do not appreciate what is happening to you, all these kinds of sensations running wild and out of control. No, you certainly do not enjoy this, and in fact you do not like how he leans forward to have a sincere look at you, making you want to extend your arm, reach out and flick your fingers on the blond locks obscuring his face to tuck them behind his ears so that you can brush the invisible dirt on his cheek or ghost your fingertip on his lips. No, you are not in love with how the moment seems perfect for you to succumb into your own personal hell and you refuse to accept your position so you just label yourself insane because a guy like you cannot be thinking of doing things like that.
So you mutter under your breath how cruel he is to you and he appears to have heard it for he quickly snatches his hand back and glares at you now. You wince then curse yourself for the mistake that you have unconsciously done but it is too late so you shut up, waiting for the blade-sharp reply to hit you. The cutting retort however doesn’t reach you but you feel it confined in the dense atmosphere that starts to cloud around the both of you. You are stupid, you chant repeatedly while pondering about what will happen next if this is irreparable.
“I don’t love you too Aoi,” he mouths, narrowing his eyes in contempt and miraculously, that sight wakes you up. You hear yourself chuckle low and feel yourself plunge down, down and down the pit full of knives. You carefully put your beloved guitar away as you stand on your knees with a new-found intent pierced in your chest. Uruha may be taller than you but does that matter?
-----
Endnotes: this may be the last time for me to write them for now. Actually, I didn’t expect that I’d get another inspiration. Although I still plan to finish all my other aoixuru fics, now is not the right time for me to do them. Maybe occasionally I’ll have one or two inspirations but I’m more focused on my other otp and I kinda suck at multi-tasking so… yea. Anyway~ comments are hearts~ <33
Fanfic Archive
Chapters: 1/1
Author: mxtrxofsomer
Genre: romance
Band(s): the GazettE
Pairing: Aoi x Uruha
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: not much
Synopsis: “nothing is the same ever since”
Notes: i'm late but this fic is dedicated to the birthday boy. xD
This is you sitting on the floor, holding your precious instrument close, gently strumming its strings while adjusting the tone to your own liking, and occasionally mouthing the lyrics into silent hum of words to see how your little vocalist has flawlessly matched your written hymn to his own sonnet, and you admire it secretly -the harmony you have created, not just because you’re not so good with solid phrases but also because Ruki is intelligent as he is; you and your band mates are lucky to have such talent working with you.
You are quite contented in solitude, just playing your guitar or simply called your best companion even if the presence of your four band mates are lurking elsewhere, visible or not, but you can sense and you don’t let it bother you; you and they have learned to understand a kind of empathy, the one which peacefully leaves the other in his own world in the times seclusion is necessary for either creative thinking or deep reflection or both. You let the tune carry you somewhere else, someplace like paradise, your haven, similar to the one you have when you’re performing at lives and you imagine yourself on the stage, your own stage, with the blaring lights above your head and the sticky heat on your skin, the noises buzzing in your ears and then you’re completely lost. You don’t mind it really, because it’s addicting, has greater effects than any kind of drug and that is why you love it so much, the actual reason why you don’t do drugs. Escape, you call it that name for it has all the elements of bliss your one aspect of life fails to grasp but when a flash of scenery reminds you of it, you struggle to keep yourself but you always end up stumbling.
You wonder if you really are capable of building your own wall for your senses are always precise and to you, it never goes unnoticed when someone dares to conquer your personal space. You are possessive with your own privacy but there are certain people who easily destroy the barriers without much effort, you do not know how they do it, but you hate it, you definitely hate it because you are not the vulnerable type and seeing through you is something very despicable.
You are totally occupied while the room is all yours and you are relieved that it is, until you realize that you aren’t truly alone, finally noticing the other presence, the only aura lingering in the same place as you, watching with all eyes from behind that makes the hairs all over your body stand to their ends. Gradually, your heaven shies away, leaves you to hide from a prying gaze while the melody you’re playing dies into non-artistic notes, dead and compulsory, the kind of sounds you loathe because you are a son of music for eternity’s sake but you’re being a huge humiliation at the moment. You try to will your hands to cooperate and not break away from the remaining dignity you have but unfortunately, your fingers slip from too much effort and you miss the beat, then you know that it’s finished; you are trapped. You hiss with a certain degree of annoyance but you don’t let the moving air take it to his ears; it’s not too helpful if he hears.
He walks in silence but you can clearly feel his footsteps coming towards your direction so you mutely pray that he only passes you by to get something then go out again but the gods don’t hear your desperate pleas and instead they actually bring him to you as if they have ordered him to pause directly beside where you are seated. He stands there uninvited but with known intimacy towards you and he just stares but you don’t look up to meet his eyes for you already know who he is without needing any confirmation. You sarcastically ask yourself how but your pulse speeds up and that answers your own question. You sigh sourly, only not letting it appear in your features and finally stare back. Memory floods your brain and you instantly regret gazing at the depth of his orbs.
You use to be not the person that you are now, use to be not the shadow you see mirrored in his brown irises, use to be not the being who currently sits pathetically on the floor with a rapid pounding heart, mindless and without the ability to comprehend his emotions that are seemingly fond of mixing themselves together without permission. You use to be confident, not that you have lost faith in yourself, but rather, you can not to be trusted with handling yourself at certain unpredicted circumstances. You are not the same as you are almost two years ago before he interfered and you do not like what you are today, what you have become just because you have allowed yourself to be affected that you began to read too much. You’re slowly turning crazy, you are aware of it, but you don’t know how to save yourself.
Madness, if only you can take back what he has stolen from you that damned day, if you have maintained your sanity to avoid adrenaline and its dizzying stimulus and save it for something else, something probably less electrifying or blood-burning but at least something that won’t get you injured. But these are only if onlys so now you can’t do anything about it but blame him for planting improper thoughts in your head, thoughts that jag disturbances on the regularity of your body system and thoughts that did not occur to you not until that moment, the few important seconds of your life that his lips touched yours and you saw an explosion, several tiny wings fluttering inside your stomach. It was all so overwhelming, you swear you could have died then and there. For the small parts you hate him to his innermost core because he has crushed you into tiny pieces but in reality it’s yourself that you despise the most because you consider the idea of being in love.
“Hey Aoi.” Grinning at you, he sits himself on the spot beside your place without gaining your consent and you almost instinctively roll your eyes at him for doing so but you hold your irritation to yourself and you even shake it off with a surprisingly polite smile etched on your face. You don’t speak an utterance though and you are both unbearably quiet but you opt to stay that way because you don’t have anything good to say. After some more minutes of tranquility, he exhales loudly enough to catch your attention and you turn to him involuntarily. When you find him staring at you, you witness something on his features, perhaps in the way his elegant eyebrows are crossed in thought or the way his eyelids seem to flutter airily or the way his bow-shaped lip sticks out that makes your breath hitch a little, warming the sides of your face. You automatically direct your gaze away before he can have the chance to take a glimpse of whatever it is that is evident in your physique which will give away all the clues. You force your head into your palm and you suddenly want to knock yourself out on the floor so you can be rational again.
He lightly, very lightly taps your shoulder to perhaps comfort you but you just swallow, nearly jerking away for his hand sends you a bolt of current that begins to crawl from your point of contact, sinking in your skin, and surging through your nervous stream that your heart slowly melts into a puddle of thick blood. You do not appreciate what is happening to you, all these kinds of sensations running wild and out of control. No, you certainly do not enjoy this, and in fact you do not like how he leans forward to have a sincere look at you, making you want to extend your arm, reach out and flick your fingers on the blond locks obscuring his face to tuck them behind his ears so that you can brush the invisible dirt on his cheek or ghost your fingertip on his lips. No, you are not in love with how the moment seems perfect for you to succumb into your own personal hell and you refuse to accept your position so you just label yourself insane because a guy like you cannot be thinking of doing things like that.
So you mutter under your breath how cruel he is to you and he appears to have heard it for he quickly snatches his hand back and glares at you now. You wince then curse yourself for the mistake that you have unconsciously done but it is too late so you shut up, waiting for the blade-sharp reply to hit you. The cutting retort however doesn’t reach you but you feel it confined in the dense atmosphere that starts to cloud around the both of you. You are stupid, you chant repeatedly while pondering about what will happen next if this is irreparable.
“I don’t love you too Aoi,” he mouths, narrowing his eyes in contempt and miraculously, that sight wakes you up. You hear yourself chuckle low and feel yourself plunge down, down and down the pit full of knives. You carefully put your beloved guitar away as you stand on your knees with a new-found intent pierced in your chest. Uruha may be taller than you but does that matter?
-----
Endnotes: this may be the last time for me to write them for now. Actually, I didn’t expect that I’d get another inspiration. Although I still plan to finish all my other aoixuru fics, now is not the right time for me to do them. Maybe occasionally I’ll have one or two inspirations but I’m more focused on my other otp and I kinda suck at multi-tasking so… yea. Anyway~ comments are hearts~ <33
Fanfic Archive