Anything in italics is Ville telling the damned story and/or just memories…well, you'd know. XD. XP. And you'll probably get confused…but it's simple-well, to me. XP.


3 - I Remember Part 3


I was originally born as a child of a garden.

In that time and place, it was supposedly some sort of great praise. Art was beauty. Beauty was art. That was it. I remember standing beside a pillar, dazed, when I'd first seen you. You were…beautiful, astounding, brilliant. Around thirteen years old with a grin so big it made my heart melt.

"Leonardo! You haven't heard the last of me!"

I felt a hand grip tightly onto my own and pull me towards a building, pinning me by the shoulders. "He's a bastard! I swear he damn well is!"

"Come on, your damn child."

I nodded towards him and followed him into his-our-house and sat down near the couch and fireplace. The furious flames igniting as I stared at them. This was my life. This was all I did, just stare at a warmth that I could never have reached. I turned away from the fireplace and watched him paint against the light that was there. My caretaker thrashed his painting down onto the floor.

I paddled over there to see what he'd done but failed to see any meaning in his painting. There was no feeling, no energy, no color…so dull and dead. As this place was. I was tempted to do one of my own right then, remembering your face, I grabbed onto a blank portrait and moved over out in the open. The cool air touched my flesh and the midnight colors sang and danced. I grinned softly.

Then there was the colors. The colors were the only thing that could make you real…or my broken attempts at trying to make you real. All I had were fingers, artificial paint and whatever I'd done had only given me a pang of happiness compared to the overflow of amazement when I'd first seen you. You were so beautiful, and whatever I'd painted, it moved me-but it would never replace that smile of warmth that had blazed upon that pale face of yours.

I was smitten over you.

I realized that after about a month of just drawing you, stealing colors I wasn't supposed to take, known as inferior by my caretaker but I didn't care. All I needed was time, when the moonlight was just right and I could imagine you walking in brilliance's light, where the kiss of the light still shone upon that smooth marble of flesh I yearned to touch…the lips that were so pink that they were a hue in a rainbow I have not yet seen. You were perfection and I was a nocturnal being ready to hold onto the moonlight's grace, upon only seeing your face.

I could remember my heart skipping a beat when I'd seen you later on, sitting beside the cold lake. Then liquid water had also become my friend, moonlight and water and a smile made of gold.

I could remember your finger entwining into your own hair. Not chocolate brown but softer still. You were my art and my art was only made to impress my heart's need for you. Yet it still hadn't been enough. I remember when my caretaker's rival, Leonardo, had stepped inside, wrinkling his nose at disgust at everything he'd seen of my caretaker's and only stopped to look at my paintings and admire them. Of course, my caretaker only laughed and said that he'd painted them. I laughed on the inside, to think that anything of mine could be magnificent, something that took hours to make yet nothing I could take pride on because it wasn't you.

It wasn't even close to you.

I just hoped that you'd jump out of the pictures I'd made so I can cradle you, hold you, own you…Leonardo offered my caretaker a spot in a gallery and he'd been over the rainbow, overjoyed, yet only because of fame. That was his biggest mistake I suppose. He drew for fame. I drew just to never forget you. 1459. That was the year that I'd first seen you.

Thirteen years old, a virgin yet to be married.

I remember seeing you again, Spain's glory engraved in flesh and blood. I remember it was in an art gallery, when you'd blushed when you seen those pictures. That faint rosy hint that made my heart jump in place…then there was Brandon, or known at that moment, as Brandy. He was my best friend I suppose but our infatuation with wine was what had bonded us together.

I watched as glass clinked.

Wine spilled.

Blood spilled as well.

I didn't know what sort of rage I'd felt. Why the color red made my heart quiver. It wasn't our color. Ours was blue, midnight…and…you wore blue and there was blood seeping out of your hand. I didn't know what made me tear you away as such but I did. I grabbed onto your wrist to cover the blood I didn't want to see and stared into your eyes. Soft blue eyes.

Blue was you. Green was me.

Blue-green…turquoise…it was us.

I couldn't bare to think that anything could come between us. The thought of flesh so smooth being cut and bled sickened me. I remember your eyes meeting mine and the whole world never mattered as little as then. Our eyes met. Our heart beat was so rhythmic… to a rhythm of a nightfall, there was night and day and a thread of white holding us together still, enwrapping us together and then-our lips met and the thread of white tightened.

You were frightened and had pulled away, pulled your wrist away so I'd see the blood spilling once more. I was hysterical. The last time I'd seen anyone bleeding they were dead before they hit the ground. I panicked…I didn't know what a "cut" did mean I suppose…but all I knew was that I hated seeing the blood pour. I thought you were as good as dead so I grabbed onto a knife beside the dinner table, causing your father to screech in horror as I stabbed you, straight into the heart that I wanted so badly to belong to me. With the knife through you, you still had that beauty. Still had the moonlight grazing upon your flesh as I heard a soft groan escape your lips. The beginning of 1504, and you were already quivering in pain, dying into my arms…crying tears of pain and anguish and I just held onto you…whispered that the pain will be gone soon, that I was sorry and hadn't known. Right before pink eyes shut tightly and nothing else mattered anymore…

AngelsWithDirtyFaces

Bam rubs his eyes. "1504? And hey! You don't have to go all proper on me and be all 'Brandon'… Bam will work. I don't act like a Brandon…" Bam says the name with a horrible, cheesy British accent.

"Besides, you said this was a real story…" Bam yawns, stretching his arm upwards. "Not some sort of history lesson. I don't remember being there and I don't remember you killing some pink-eyed dude."

"…there's a point to that." Ville squeezes Joel's hand. "That wasn't the end. That was just the beginning."

"Joel died 13 in 1504. That's what I got and that you had no love life. So why is he here today, 2010, 27? Dude, I'm not good at Math but I don't think it takes that long…besides, it's too damned confusing. Is it like one of the stories when you tell a story and somehow, inside it, there's like a…hidden message or some sort of truth behind it?"

Ville blinks. "What do you believe is the 'truth' inside of this story?"

"That your love life used to suck."

Ville glares at Bam. "…shut up."

Joel just stares at them in confusion, cocking his head to one side and yawning but not closing his eyes. He doesn't look tired but he yawned anyways. Joel grabs onto Ville's hand and squeezes it tightly, giggling before resting his head onto Ville's shoulder. "Hmm… I don't remember anything," Joel says, in all truth.

"Kiss him, it might help him remember whatever it is he has to remember…besides, you might actually get a hook up for once."

Ville rolls his eyes, standing up and helping a weak Joel stand up, both of their eyes meeting as Ville brushed cinnamon brown hair away from Joel's face. Ville leaned down to press his lips against Joel's but Joel turned his head away. "I don't know how to do this…" Joel replied honestly, staring down at Ville's feet.

"You've done this before…in other lives…"

Joel blinks. "Ville…" he says his name out loud. "Ville…it's the name he uses the most…?"

"Yes." Ville nods. "Villa, Val, Vellie…different names, different lives. But Ville is the name I was born with…the name I use the most…it's a confusing tale to tell you, Joel and you're a bit…uneducated so it'll just make you even more confused. You have to remember on your own."

Bam just stares at him. "Val? Like Valerie…?"

"Shut up, Bam." Ville responds, staring at Bam as his laughter erupts from his mouth but Ville nods his head anyways. "Yes, Valerie."

Joel nods his head as he holds onto Ville's shoulders to steady himself as Ville holds onto Joel's hips, both of their lips meeting in a heartwarming kiss. Ville hasn't remembered feeling Joel's lips in a long time. It's right. It's beautiful. It's home.

1504.

Joel remembers being stabbed by Ville's hands. He remembers the feeling of horror he felt but security had taken away that feeling when Ville's hands were around him…he remembers how good it felt to bleed, how horrified Ville was when he'd first seen the blood, as if a demon has overshadowed Ville's eyes…he remembered that.

1505.

He remembered feeling dirt slide off him as if he was being released. He remembered hearing a few words of pure black magic. Joel remembers opening those eyes once more, feeling the cool air once again, hearing the night's song once more as Joel feels Ville's hand around his hand. He remembers shouting at Ville for ever thinking of using black magic on him. Then he remembers seeing the Devil smirk at them…

"You can't! I'm cursed! I'm broken! I'm something horrible…" Joel looked over at Ville, who was stunned and moved away in confusion and then there was the Devil's eyes watching them. Joel grabbed onto a silver trinket and broke it, seeing all the signs of darkness imprinted onto his casket. Joel looked over at Ville. "You…why…how dare you? You can't bring me back using black magic of all fucking things! You should know better!"

"I had no other choice. You were dead and it was all my damned fault and…" Ville's eyes turned from hardness into liquid. "I missed you."

"…you called upon my spirit. Maybe so but who knows what'll happen to me, Ville? What's going to happen to you? You don't do black magic…it's a way to summon spirits of evilness…or to summon spirits so the Devil could play with them and I don't want my heart to be played up with the Devil's hands!"

Cloven placed his hand against his hip. "Are you two ladies done?" he spat out coldly. "Because he did summon your spirit for me…and it's Halloween…how lovely…don't you think?"

Cloven had placed his hand over Joel's forehead, said a few words into his ear and his entire body fell, rotted into seconds and Ville looked at the grave in confusion. "What happened…?"

"I said you can have your lovely little Joel…for a price. You have to find him and your lovely little beauty won't be in the best possible condition…he'll be born. Who knows? Centuries from now…ten…thirteen…fourteen….maybe you'll be dead by the time the rebirthing happens."

"No." Ville blinked. "I refuse to let him go…I'll find him. I promise you that."

And that was the last of it until Joel was pretty sure he can't hear anything at all.

The kiss did end but Joel was lying into Ville's arms, Ville somehow had fallen.

What happened then? Joel asked Ville, mentally, in confusion.

Much… Ville responded. I'll show you my memories. Hold onto me.

1509.

Brandon paced around the room, and then stared back at Ville, who was onto the bed. His young friend was into his bed, sick and frail but Ville cocked his head to one side. "I couldn't find him, Bambi."

"Stop calling me that one. And second…"

Brandon moved towards Ville, sitting down onto a chair and staring into his eyes. "Look, I'm not an expert on witchcraft but I think my niece is one… call me insane. Call me stupid. But I think that my niece is truly one. She has their eyes and their hair…maybe she and I can find a way to reincarnate you once more…but…"

"But what?"

Brandon pulled out a pair of scissors and had cut the end of Ville's hair, holding the clump of black hair into his hand. "I needed your DNA so I ruined your hair. I hope that's fine with you."

"I could've just fucked in a cup. You could've had my semen."

"Yeah. So people can make even more gay jokes about us." Brandon responded, 'but they have side effects…I mean… I heard the witches say that you and Joel might be the first ones to prove that soul mates exist. All these damn years and you still want only him. I think they want to protect you anyways because of that. You're the first ones to actually love."

"…you're in love…with your penis." Ville pointed out, grinning.

"…and this is why they make gay jokes about us, Ville."

1775.

Villa tapped his fingers against the cold table.

Villa heard a voice and turned around to see Bam pressing his body against the table. "What's wrong with you? Whatcha doing down here…?" Bam asked, blinking. "We gotta a party upstairs and you're living in a morgue."

"You know what I want from you." Villa said, twirling his fingers around his hair.

"Yeah. 27-fucking-1 years passed and you're still looking for Joel. But no…no babies born with pink eyes. Nothing. I don't think you're gonna win in this game, man. This is the Devil."

"I know." Villa breathed. "But I love him."

"…and this is why…"

"They make gay jokes about us, I know." Villa responded, as Bam walked over to him and hugged him tightly. "And this is another reason why they do that. You're squishing my lungs."

Bam pulled off and stared at the place they were in. "Why are you living in a morgue again…?"

"The children remind me of Joel."

"…oh God. You need help if looking a dead people reminds you of your dead boyfriend. People say his eyes, his hair, not dead children…why kids anyways?"

"He had child-like eyes." Villa smiled weakly.

"Whatcha gonna do? Open their eyelids and look at their eyes just to remember Joel's 'child-like' eyes…?"

"Shut up."

Ville pulls them out of their trance by opening his eyes. "You see, Joey. I've been waiting for you. For 506 years to be precise…but I'm not going to let you go right now. I know you're dying. I know that this is what the Devil meant when he said they were going to rebirth you. I was just so besotted into my music, I forgot you for a while…then the supermarket. I don't know. It was an instinct to walk in there…I just remembered…that was the spot where I first kissed you 506 years ago. There's now a supermarket built in that place. Fate made us meet."

Bam stares at them. "…do you know that this is gonna make a good book someday?"

"Shut up, Bambi."

"I'm still a little confused."

"I know. I'm going to explain it to you. And to Bam too since he's gonna be standing there going 'what's going on?' for the next twenty minutes…see…I was born in Finland at a young age in…and at 19, I moved to Florence, Italy. At that point, I was 19 years old…I fell in love with you. You were around thirteen years old. I painted you…I needed to find to let out this passion you made me feel. I was very uneducated at that point. My caretaker had gotten all the credit for the paintings I made of you. They had a big feast at a gallery once and you were there but you accidentally cut yourself and I was just scared because the last time I'd seen someone bleed, they died. I didn't know the definition of a 'cut' so I just stabbed you, thinking it would ease your pain and kill you quickly. I learned that was wrong when Brandon, who was also alive 506 years ago, told me so."

"Cool. I lived over 500 years." Bam grins.

"Anyways…I was empty without you and made a deal with the Devil. I would summon your spirit back, using black magic…it was wrong and you'd probably be hurt but I needed you so bad. He told me that the price I had to pay was that I had to wait for you. That I might wait centuries and decades for you…but I didn't care. I told Brandon at that point and witches did exist before the world wiped them out. But Brandon and I reincarnated over and over again, lived different lives throughout time just to fit in our time and I waited…I was patient…I waited…and waited…centuries and centuries again and then I was reincarnated into a family that actually loved me.

"That never happened before. The witches told me if I kept on reincarnating. I won't remember much. I didn't for a while. I lived a life thinking it was only this life…I forgot you. My love was music in this life. I didn't know you existed until I was driven to go to a supermarket for no apparent reason. Fate brought us together again…and everything just…clicked for me…" Ville blinks. "It'll take you a while to adjust to this but I really do love you."

"If he waited over 500 years for you then it's love." Bam nods, watching over them. "I'm extremely bored."

"He always does get bored watching love stories." Ville waves it off, grinning over at Joel. "But you remember now and that's all that matters. I know you're dying but at least you'd be dying with love. Jeffery told me about your past and it's quite tragic. I think that's the Devil's effect."

Joel nods his head. "I think so too…I guess I remember it as much as you do…but I don't know what I'm dying of…"

"Leukemia. Cancer. It doesn't matter."

"God, this is so mushy and romantic and I hate it." Bam responds, blinking. "Hey, if we're gonna turn this into a movie or a novel or whatever…can you involve like trucks and cars in it? Explosions?"

AngelsWithDirtyFaces

-_- I explained it twice. If I have to explain it again, Imma explode. It can't go any simpler than that.

oh and I'll explain what the WWE has to do with it. XD. And our +6,000 pairings shall start soon. Oh yes. ^_^

X Sam.