Razorblade Romance (Ville Valo Fanfic)

79. A Never Ending Winter

The story now jumps about nine months.

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Maybe I didn't exist in the past months. My master's was almost finishing, which was the only good thing in my life right now, but I don't remember the rest. Maybe I didn't do anything else with my life.

I had had another accident with my Vespa. I slept while I drove it, broke more ribs and spent some nights at the hospital so the doctors could observe if there was something wrong with my brain, because of the impact of the trauma. I probably have something missing, but they didn't find anything. Nick kept my keys again. This I remember.

I also remember I was always sick, with a cold or something else, despite the vitamins. I was taking so many pills I had a box full of them. One for the lack of sun, to sleep, to control my anxiety, for my depression, that was the worst I've ever had, for my gastritis, painkillers, and others I didn't remember for what purpose was. But no matter what I took, nothing seemed to get better. I felt I was a failure, and probably was. Maybe the pills were helping in a way I wouldn't lose myself definitely.

I remember stupid things I did, such as start to smoke. I got to the point I missed Ville so much, I bought his favourite brand of cigarettes. It wasn't a regular thing, it was a visual memory. Sometimes when I missed him so much, I liked to see the cigarette between my fingers, that wasn't long as his, but it remind me of him. I said, there was something wrong with my brain.

And I remember the day I went back to Finland to retrieve my things from Ville's tower. He wasn't there, I wasn't even sure he was in Finland. I didn't know anything about his life anymore, only if accidentally saw some news on him on the Internet, but every time I would see his picture I quickly closed it.

I can't even describe how dreadful was to walk into his bedroom again. Nothing really changed - the furniture, the way he displayed things. Sometimes he got bored and started to change everything, but it looked like the last time I saw it.

The only thing that changed is that I didn't see our portraits anymore. Not a single one. I knew it would be probably like that, but still it hit me so hard I felt weak on the knees.

He had the dream catcher I gave him by the bed though, it was where I put it and he never changed it.

I collected my books, my clothes, they were all untouched. It was like he wasn't living here anymore. Maybe another tour, I didn't know. I spent a while removing all my things and organizing it in boxes.

I saw his favourite tee on a chair, the Black Sabbath one, and I almost stole it for me. It had his scent, a mix of cigarette, his cologne, the scent of his skin all combined. What a wicked thing to do, Ville, knowing I would be here. But I decided to leave it there. Maybe someone else was wearing it now.

I saw something familiar on the nightstand, it was the necklace I gave him. He wasn't wearing it anymore, and the distance I felt from his world was now a huge abyss. I wasn't wearing my engagement ring obviously, nor the emerald one he gave me, but I still wore the bracelet. It worked like a stress toy and sometimes it made me snap when I had anxiety crisis.

I went to the study room, fortunately I didn't have much to retrieve. But I took a while to say goodbye to this room he created for me. It was untouched as well.

His studio was a mess, lots of papers on the floor, packs of food and beer cans. He was drinking again, then. I saw an empty bottle of wine. Damn, Poe, you've been drinking all the wine in this house. My fingers ran on the piano, on his acoustic guitar. I would miss his talent, I loved to hear him playing and singing anytime. To me, it was a real privilege.