Princess And Pagey

chapter seven !

As of recent normality, Mary found herself awake during the earliest part of the mornings, up before Jimmy and running to the bathroom nearest to her to spill her guts, whatever her young baby decided Mary didn't need anymore. After her stomach had felt completely ridden of any particle of food, or acid, for that matter, she stared outside the hotel room window and watched the sun rise high up, as if the heavens pulled a string to hoist it into the uppermost part of the bright morning sky.

The burning hot orange morning sun seemed to trace the edges of the dome that surrounded the ground protectively, gliding, inching gradually across the spherical layer. When the sun had reached halfway to the exact top of the sky, Mary decided she'd have quiet time to herself, and eat a breakfast served in the kitchen downstairs.

So she carefully put on normal clothes, and kissed Jimmy on his forehead as he slept, and slipped down into the kitchen and dining area. Her mouth watered at the sight of chocolate chip pancakes, considered a delicacy to her at the time as her stomach grumbled, her baby seemingly growling for food they would just end up throwing up later. Mary took a plate and stacked two pancakes upon it, drowning them in syrup and topping it with whipped cream.

Upon eating it, she was sure her teeth would fall out from all of the sugar she took in at one time, but disregarded it as her appetite took over her brain's ability to think rationally. A slight moan of satisfaction slipped past the pancake-syrup mixture in her mouth, indulging as the concoction seemed to hit just the spot she was targeting.

Mary downed the overly sweet breakfast with a tall glass of orange juice, a drink she hadn't had in years, as she recalled internally. The orange juice was sour in her mouth, her lips forming a kiss-like resemblance as she squeezed her eyes shut to shake off the slight sourness of it.

She took a deep breath in and looked down at her form-fitting shirt, unsure if the bump was from a full stomach or a rapidly growing fetus. She smiled now, growing more and more comfortable with the idea of having a baby.  The thought of the birthing of the baby was petrifying, but she figured she should enjoy being pregnant while it lasted, not wanting to worry about something out of her little control.

All around her in the lobby, little kids ran and played with each other, their parents sitting back and laughing at their mini children playing gleefully, happily enjoying their lives with not a care in the world. The simple sight made tears prickle at her grey eyes, a subtle smile tug at the corners of her mouth.

Breakfast had finished serving nearly a half hour later, and she began making her way back to Jimmy in the hotel room. A soft melody played from behind the door, the plucking of metal strings on a wooden acoustic. Her subtle smile grew fully at Jimmy's playing as her hand brushed over the white fabric of her shirt, fingers rubbing gently over her stomach. "Hear that baby?" She asked quietly, not caring how crazy she must sound to anyone hearing her, "Hear him playing?"

Mary then listened closer to the music, finding that a soft voice flowed along with the tune of the song. She carefully opened the door, not wanting to disturb Jimmy of his elegant and intricate playing. Mary felt as if Jimmy could never be distracted of his strumming, as his eyes were glued to the strings that made beautiful music. The acoustic guitar didn't let out any screeches, nor was it played with a curved violin bow, but it still managed to have that "Jimmy Page" ring to it.

Mary sat herself finally beside him, and any noise that could be heard in the whole room halted as Jimmy stared blankly at Mary. "What?" She asked.

"You didn't hear much of that, did you?" Jimmy asked in return, an expression of embarrassment on his pretty facial features.

"Yeah, I heard about five minutes of it, why?"

"Shit," Jimmy swore under his breath, biting at his bottom lip and breaking their short period of eye contact.

"What? What's wrong with it?" Mary wondered, taking Jimmy's hand in hers as his other hand grasped hard on the neck of his acoustic.

"I can't sing," Jimmy smiled awkwardly, hoping that his shyness about his voice could be enshrouded with a meaningless chuckle.

"Really? You sounded pretty good to me." Mary shared a more genuine smile, his eyebrows raising and a smile materializing on his frown.

"Oh, you think so?" Jimmy blushed.

"Yeah, you've got yourself a nice voice there, Pagey." Mary complimented, lying a hand on his bare thigh. "What was it you were playing? You know, before I interrupted you."

Jimmy grinned, "Working on a new song, just going with whatever came to my mind."

"Oh, you're writing a song in front of me? What's it called?" Mary was still a fan girl, and the expression on her face was proof enough for anyone to tell.

"Haven't quite figured that part out yet, really. I don't normally name them until the writing's all done." Jimmy explained, sighing in the direction of his guitar.

"Oh, yeah, duh, I'm stupid."

"You're not stupid," Jimmy shuffled, bringing the guitar back upon his empty lap, "Here, I'll replay it for you."

Mary sat fully on the bed, her hand not leaving its spot on Jimmy's leg, rather moving slightly to the side so he could set his guitar comfortably. "And just to let you know beforehand, it's gonna sound a bit rough because, you know, I've just begun writing it and I've got to get Robert's opinion too. He helps me write. Anyway, here goes."

Jimmy strummed a few beginning chords to get back in the swing of it before he began playing the real song. The opening part of the song started off with a familiar melancholic tune, gradually moving into a somewhat heavier part. After nearly a minute of intricate playing, Jimmy's voice became present, alluring to Mary's ears. Blush invaded harsher this time on Jimmy's cheeks, looking up periodically at Mary to make sure she wasn't bothered by his "inability to sing."

Mary bopped her head slowly alongside the tune of it, smiling harder with every word that fell from Jimmy's lips. Jimmy's accent seemed to vanish completely as he sang, and his voice became raspier. She'd missed the softness of his accent, but thought that he still managed to sound so sexy.

With every shy note that Jimmy hit, Mary found it incredibly hard to control her happiness, her eyes glossing over as she looked at him with pure admiration. Her hands ached, unable to reach out and kiss him into oblivion. His face, she thought, was too precious as he concentrated on his playing.

He looked up once, and perhaps at the wrong time, as Mary's smile turned into a mere giggle. Jimmy, of course, being self-conscious about his singing abilities, had taken it the wrong way and pressed his fingers hard against the fretboard to cease all noise. "What are you laughing about?"

"Nothing. Keep playing." Mary said, her hands motioning for him to continue the song.

"Was it my singing? Is it that bad?" Jimmy wondered, again chewing on his bottom lip. Mary swore that if he did it again she'd have a hard time controlling herself next time.

"No, Jimmy. I wouldn't make fun of your singing in front of you." Her sarcasm rang thick in her voice, making sure that Jimmy had picked up on it, for fear that he might get hurt by her choice of playful words.

"You're so cruel to me, I don't know why I'm still with you," Jimmy smirked jokingly, cocking his head to the side with a subtle shake.

"You'll never get rid of me. I'll be stuck with you and your terrible singing voice for the rest of my life." She teased as Jimmy set his guitar down and shuffled so he sat right in front of Mary.

"Listen here, princess," He said, pulling her head gently towards his, pressing his lips against her ear. "Don't make me shut you up."

Warmth spilled around Mary's lower half before Jimmy's right hand grabbed hold of her lower back, his left holding her hand as he stood up slowly and pulled her up with him.

"What are you doing, Jimmy?" Mary asked, her fingers tracing the skin that showed proudly from behind his shirt.

Jimmy kept silent as his hand slipped down her back and rested on her hip, his fingers just barely going under the elastic waistline of her pants.