Gosh, he looked surly.
His eyes stared up at me, his kohl eyeliner artfully smudged, his lips almost parting in a teasing smile. He looked perfect. Everything from his torn jeans, battered Cons and black blazer style jacket looked effortlessly perfect.
I sighed and put the black and white photograph on the glass coffee table. It was a good photograph, I couldn't wait to start painting my own version as soon as we stopped in a city long enough for me to start.
The hotel room was neat, but painfully bland. I stared over at the picture of Matt and couldn't help but smile at his half-smile. I checked my watch, it was past midnight. Anavrin would be come bustling back to the hotel soon enough, grinning triumphantly at their latest success. No doubt the people who had witnessed them tonight had fallen head over heels for them, it was the same every stop we made. People fell in love with the band, and rightly so.
I was a big fan too, I must admit. I would describe what they sound like, but I'd gush. And I don't want to subject you all to gushing. You've seen me gush before. It's not pretty. There was this one reviewer who said that Anavrin "sounded like what Dashboard Confessional and My Chemical Romance would sound like if they mated." That's pretty much true. Except there was some grunge-y stuff in there. I loved the band, I sure did. Although I wasn't much of a super fan. I didn't even figure out where the name came from until Matt told me (it's "Nirvana" backwards - who woulda thought?! Not me anyway).
We had already been to lots of places, but that night we were in Venice and it was my all time favourite place. Matt and I went for a romantic ride in a gondola while he "accidentally" forgot about sound check. We walked hand in hand through tiny little back streets which were all charm and coffee. It was a world I never thought I'd see, never mind with Matt.
I looked again at the photograph. Really, I couldn't take my eyes off it. The band had just signed to Geffen no more than two weeks ago, and already they were being instructed to start writing their album and press shots were being done. That photo of Matt would more than likely be used in an album booklet or something.
The door swung open and Matt came strolling in, amazingly graceful as always. He smiled at me and kissed my head.
"Hey cutie, you're not all alone are you?" He asked, swinging his legs over the sofa and landing beside me.
"Not anymore." I replied, grinning.
"Whatcha looking at?"
"You have your painter face on. Are you going to paint them?" He asked, winding his hand through my hair to the back of my neck and tickling a little.
"Probably. How was the show?"
He launched into a minute by minute account of the show. I hadn't been that night, I was absolutely too tired for such shenanigans. But I listened to Matt's account with the eager eyes and ears of a crazed fan-girl.
"It's just such a rush to hear these people screaming for us, you know?" He concluded. I nodded.
"Well no I don't know cuz you know I'm not in a band. But if it pleases you then it pleases me." I smiled.
"I am pleased. I am mucho pleased. I am as pleased as punch."
"I never got that…" I began thoughtfully.
"The pleased as punch thing. I've never had a glass of pleased punch in my life." I told him, widening my eyes in mock seriousness.
"Obviously you've never had a glass of spiked punch my dear." He grinned cheekily at me. I ruffled his hair.
"Like I need spiked punch when I have you."
"Hey, don't diss the spiked punch, cuz you know, it's all spiked and stuff. And when it's spiked it has special powers." He nodded.
"Uh huh. You're one weird boy."
"Yeah but ya love me." He retorted, standing up and pulling me to my feet.
"Only at a full moon Mister." I replied. He started to dance in a severely spazzed out fashion. Usually I would have stopped him but I tell you it was hilarious.
"Hey hey, do you know where we're going tomorrow?" He asked, all out of puff.
"I don't know, where?" He pulled me into his arms and I sort of did a weird waltz with him for a while.
"Seattle." I looked up at him.
He smiled down at me, and I took a second to just look at him. I swear, I have seen that boy so many times but he never ever fails to surprise me with just how gorgeous he is. His eyes were still so bright after all he'd been through, but there was an element of pain there, a maturity that made you just want to cling to him and never let go. His eyeliner was discreet but sexy, his hair in his eyes as always.
"Yeah, we're going home."
(A/N: I have to stop doing this to people. I tell you all it's over, then you ask for a sequel and good god I can't help but write one! I guess I'm not ready to let go of Matt and Angel yet. This chapter was short and kinda shaky, but I just wanted something to get this story off the ground. To all my past reviewers, I hope you like it! Keep reviewing!)
(A/N again: Pixie Stix has inspired me - check out her stuff if you can, it's damn awesome!- to do a preview. Here's a little taster of what's coming soon. Now I'm not guaranteeing it'll be in Chapter 2, but it'll occur soon, promise!
I felt myself looking at him, meeting his gaze after all my attempts not to. I hastily wiped my eyes with the back of my hand, not wanting him to see tears. He was not at the teary tissue stage yet. I wasn't sure if he was going to get there during these moments, or if he would get there at all.
"What are you saying?" He asked quietly, sitting down on the sofa and running his hands through his hair. My own hands were shaking.
"I don't know who you are anymore." I replied, my voice breaking a little when my heart was breaking a lot.
"So where do we go from here? What can I do about it?"
"I don't know if there's anything you can do."
He sat in silence for a moment. He was kinda crying now, muffled little sobs that sounded so innocent, so childlike. I wanted to sit beside him like I used to, pull his arm around my shoulders and listen to his heart beating and know it was beating for me. But I didn't know that anymore.
"Are you saying that this is over?"
Dum dum dum! Keep reviewing!)