Book Two : Aveline. | Slash Fanfiction

chapter seventeen

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SEVENTEEN - 1992, On The Road.

         THE MORNING HAD barely begun, with the clock striking five-fifteen am, and the sun beginning to rise, the beautiful rays of blissful heat warm and entrancing as Aveline gazed through the buses window, a steaming cup of coffee tapered between her fingers. She had indulged in hardly an hour and a half of slumber, captured in the welcoming hold of Saul's sleeping embrace, his soft snores like lullabies to her groggy mind as she awoke with a jump. The bus had jerked to a start, the driver already up and running, as it began to chug along its hefty weight, cruising gradually through the streets and eventually onto the highway.

She couldn't be quite sure as to how long she'd sat there, alone, pondering copious thoughts and staring blankly through the thin, trembling, panes of glass, but she was certain that she'd ended up so lost in her thoughts that she'd had to make herself a new coffee - the old one dry and cold with a strange skin forming aloft the top of the beverage.

One thought in particular continued to resurface as she sipped the bitter coffee with a gentle frown, squinting against the prominent sunlight; it had been over a week and she had yet to inform her mother of anything that was going on - even to explain that she was safe and having fun. Aveline hadn't spoke to her mother since she was in Paris, and it filled her with swarming guilt until she felt an overwhelming need to cry something small. The sensation to spill a few tears wasn't entirely strong - but it was there, and it moved her to the white phone, dangling by its chord, upon the far wall, just beside the entry and departing, metal, door.

Her forefinger quickly dialled the familiar expression of jumbled numbers, the echoing ringing bouncing around her head, the paranoia of its loudness causing her to nibble on her nails insecurely. Would her talking wake up the band? She knew that the party didn't end until long after she'd fallen asleep - it couldn't have done - and so she wanted nothing more than to allow the boys their much needed rest.

The ringing paused, a static silence filling its place.

"Bonjour?" It was her mother, voice thick with tiredness and slight frustration. "Qu'est-ce?" ["Who is it?"] She asked after Aveline failed to speak up, her nerves trapping her voice in her throat, behind a large, unmoving lump.

A pause followed as Aveline struggled to find her voice, the familiarity of her mothers impatient sigh rising her tone in a shaky manner. "Mom?" She called out, quietly. A slow feeling began to rise in her stomach, an ache that spread fierily throughout her chest. Aveline was undoubtably, undeniably homesick and she hadn't realised how dearly she missed the comfort of her 'crazy' family until it wasn't there when she awoke at such early times.

"Aveline! Mon bébé! Comment vas-tu? Comment ça va?" ["Aveline! My baby! How are you? How's it going?"] She fired, her tone sounding a little too tearful for Aveline's liking, glazing her eyes over at the sense of familiarity she didn't know she required until then. "Dieu, tu me manques terriblement." ["Goodness, I miss you terribly."]

"I miss you too, Mama." She smiled sadly. "I'm okay, you know, it's going great here. I'm having so much fun, and the band are really nice and welcoming - they're amazing on stage, too."

"Je suis heureuse, ma chérie." ["I'm glad, my dear."]

"How is everyone?" She asked, crossing her arms in attempt to find something to do with her body, shifting continuously as her mother continued to speak with her delightfully soothing and calm tone.