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paralianeyes · 2 years ago

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The Cars's about you. // Alex Turner X Reader.

Filling the request: I know you haven't been writing much but I'd like you to consider writing something with Alex where they're split but he dedicates the whole new album to her. pls 🥺🙏

Words: 3,4K.

(gif's by tedystaleva)

"Al?" Your worried filled the room, making Alex, even if tired, slowly open his eyes to you.

"Why're you 'ere?" He wasn't harsh, his tone was soft and you felt like you could cry in front of him for missing his voice so much.

Trying to avoid curiosity for what was to come, as well as the tension, Jamie, who had forced you there, replied, "Well, since you don't want to listen to us, we bring her to you." He shrugged, as if it was obvious Alex needed you in a predicament of his even though you weren't together anymore.

Thanking you, Jamie kissed your forehead and left, leaving you and Alex, who was pale and somewhat thinner, in nothing but silence that was deafening.

"You look terrible." Your face shuddered, making him mentally conclude that he'd still rather be in pain than see you going through it.

"Thank you," he laughed humorlessly, avoiding any pre-concert efforts.

His eyes squeezed shut as he sat down on the couch, refusing to let himself believe he felt a little dizzy. He was always stubborn, he knew that, just as he was sure that if you asked him to treat himself better, he would.

"When it started, Al?" You knelt down in front of him, sensing his temperature by his forehead and neck. Your eyes avoided looking directly into his, something that cut him like a knife.

Ignoring the answer, since both knew the answer to it all, he asked what had been on his mind since the release, "Did you hear the new album?"

You bit your lip, taking a deep breath. You adjusted his blazer and allowed yourself to look at him, his eyes drooping, looking tired but he was still your Alex, you would never forget that. You stroked his curls, which were shorter since you last saw him, and you felt better to see him snuggle into your touch.

"Not yet, Al," he looked disappointed.

You took off your cardigan, duly oversized as usual, and draped it over him. More relaxed, he sighed in relief because you were there for him.

"I brought some medicine that might help, could you take some before the concert?" You asked as if he were a child.

Before you could get them out of your bag, he grabbed your hand.

"It's just a cold, I can handle it."

"Can you really?" You raised your eyebrows, ready to give a sermon but then retreated, remembering that he was nothing yours anymore. Still, he expected to see you mad at him for not taking care of himself, not doing the right things and choices, he missed that. "It's only getting worse, Al. You know that, otherwise Jamie wouldn't have called me countless times." Your voice was quiet, on an exhausted sigh. It was hard to say if you couldn't bear to hear from him or you were tired of seeing him mistreating himself and having to hear such reports from people close to him. Your serenity, even when you were mad at him, was one of the things he loved about you, even in fights it was clear how much you only exploded when it was to show how much you care and can't tolerate that anymore.

"I 'ate Jamie," He wrinkled his nose, reaching for your meds.

"You love the boys for taking care of you." You smiled in victory and he couldn't help but smile to you.

"How're you feelin'? Don't you think that continuing to sing and movin' to another country all the time will harm you?" He wanted to hate you for those questions, but he couldn't. Touring kept his mind busy and he enjoyed it, however, it was obvious you were right.

He rubbed his eyes hard, stretching his body. "Tired, not tired of not bein' able to sing, but I feel like my voice is startin' to feel like I'm feelin' different. My chest hurts, I feel weak and sometimes it's 'ard to breathe."

"And you're sure it's just a cold?" You asked in disbelief as he coughed dryly. "And you're puttin' up with all this without even taking a pill?"

He nodded. Sometimes he felt like he deserved it, for example, when you came to his mind late at night and he remembered that he just let you go without doing anything about it.

"You are hurtin' people 'round you, in addition to takin' chances with your voice," you didn't proceed, you just kept reflective.

"Do I 'urt you by doin' this?"

Swallowing hard, you replied, "let's just say it's not nice to hear that you're away from most of your family and friends and you're hurting yourself by being stubborn, Alex."

There was silence, this time far from uncomfortable. You avoided looking at each other for a few moments until that failed, soon he had taken your hand and when you didn't pull back, he felt a shred of hope left.

"Are you stayin' for the concert? You need to 'ear the new album, and it sounds like a good opportunity..." he suggested, refusing to put it off any longer.

"Al," Before you could continue, he interrupted himself.

"That'll be the last one before I seek for help. You stay and I'll see the doctor."

"Promise?" You asked in a low voice, weak smile. "Like tomorrow?"

"Do you want me to see a doctor tomorrow?"

"Yeah, if you're already goin' to make me stay here for longer," he bit his lip with a bitter reminder that you weren't his anymore and there was no point in you sticking around for several days. Still, he felt like a failure knowing that your plans didn't involve seeing the concert, but just convincing him of something he knew he should be doing. He was afraid that you weren't there for him, but rather, for fear of the boys' insistence, as if he was going to die if he didn't get any help. "I want to know what you have, and what you're going to need to do, okay? If you need rest, you go rest and take some days off!"

He nodded, still laughing humorlessly. His eyes followed you as you got up, gathering your things for yourself and leaving him with only the warmth of your cardigan, that luckily had your essence to comfort him.

"You'll be 'round?" He asked, hoping you'd tell him where you were staying. He imagined coming to you after the concert, but you were smarter.

"I do not know yet," you refused to look at him. He knew you, he knew you were meticulous enough to already have everything planned out for the trip, as you probably thought a thousand times before going to him, and knowing you so well had never hurt him so much. You didn't want to deal with him. "I think I better go, I'll see you in a few, Al," He nodded with a funereal smile.

"See ya, lil' one," his tone was sad, it no longer seemed worth trying to hide it.

Sighing deeply, before leaving you answered about the album, "I'm dying to hear you sing again, but I can't since the last time. I can't bring myself to listen to the new release because I hate to think about you and wonder how you are, it's hard enough to deal with the band being all over the place because of engagement over the album. I hope you understand, it wasn't my bad will, I would have called you after listening to it, I believe it's nothing but amazing like almost everything you do, Al. I just couldn't put myself to it." Leaving a speechless Alex, you got out, feeling your eyes fill with tears as Jamie and Matthew stopped you.

"He's great?" It was funny how general the question was but you knew what he wanted to hear.

"Yeah, he'll be. He told me he's going to see someone tomorrow, he's taken some medicine and he's not going to cancel today's concert. He doesn't look well at all, I don't think he'll be advised to stick to this routine any longer." You said with difficulty, feeling a lump in your throat. You wanted to catch the next flight back home and just call him the next day and ask how everything went, but you had promised him.

"I feel relieved that he's going to see one, we've been talkin' 'bout it for weeks and he won't listen to us." Jamie continued, making you only then, in the midst of your bewildered head, realize that he was the one who asked.

"I'm going to my room, I need to sort out some things from work," you tried to get away.

"You're stayin'?" Matthew asked, looking you up and down strangely. "For Alex?" He frowned.

"I don't know," you knew you would, but you didn't know the answer to that. It was hard to tell if you were doing this for him or for yourself or out of fear.

Matthew looked at Jamie, in a boyish smile so characteristic of him. "You haven't heard the album, huh?" Jamie rolled his eyes but seeing you agreeing, Matthew's satisfaction made sense. You could tell there had been some sort of inside joke/understanding between them.

"Why?" The obsession with the questions about the album was already starting to feel like something wrong.

"Nothing, I think, if I were you I wouldn't have listened either. Alex's a dickhead." You just nodded.

Without you've even said anything, producers called their name and they had to go, they left laughing amongst themselves like a derivative of an 'I told you so' before leaving you with cozy hugs and kisses on the forehead. You missed them, no more than Alex, but you did.

------

Knowing where he was was suffocating, he was downstairs, in the number of which now rang in your head. The urge to call or come down to see if he was feeling better was almost maddening, yet you remained still, quiet uneasy, with Jamie's short messages updating you on things. You could imagine Jamie saying how much you still cared for Alex to him, but you were unable to try to guess how Alex felt about it.

You had opened Google a couple of times, typing in their name and threatening to open any album information. Your courage was gigantic, but you didn't want to risk hearing Alex's voice, didn't even want to think about how you were going to put up with an entire concert of theirs in a few.

When you opened the cover of the new album online, passing your eyes quickly over the names of the songs, you gave up, locking your screen and putting it aside. Deep down you wanted to hear it, obviously, but you knew how good Alex was at describing feelings, and while you suspected you weren't described in them, you didn't really want to know. This could hurt more than you would ever imagine, and you didn't want that.

"Would you be able to arrange tea for after the night? Maybe lemon, ginger or even eucalyptus?" You offered a smile to the producer who was at the side of the stage minutes before it started, trying your best not to look like a boring nutcase.

The man looked to you quickly, returning to his duties. "I can work on it. Anything else?"

You were surprised, not expecting such an answer, and then you continued with the same affectionate expression as if you had been a puppy that fell out of the moving truck. "Maybe warm water bottles and some hot towels too?" You smiled wider, "I don't wanna be a pain, he's just not feeling too well."

"It's fine," the man nodded. "You're Alex's girlfriend, right?"

You didn't say anything, and before you could think to deny it, he cut you off. "You guys did such a great job on the new album."

-----

With the man's words still ringing in your head, you walked to the side of the stage, seeing Jamie looking at you and Matthew smiling when he saw you, waving his drumstick lightly. They were probably already on the second or third song.

Alex hadn't noticed you, and as stunned as you were, it took you a while to actually hear and make his words coherent.

He was in your black cardigan from earlier, covering his light blue shirt. His hands were in the air, his voluminous hair blowing and the dark glasses in his eyes made him look even more perfect; as usual. However, it was inevitable not to notice how his voice was different, cracked and tired, and his movements seemed slower than usual, anyone could tell he was trying too hard to be there.

It was all just as dizzying as you thought it would be, the pain in your heart was real, knowing that you didn't belong there anymore.

"… And if we guess who I'm pretending to be/Do we win a prize?/Having attempted twice, both incorrectly/Do we get a third try?…"

Your mouth hovered open, recognizing those words that eventually composed into a melody. You had written that for him, on a napkin during a trip supposed to be relaxing for both of you. Only then, you started to absorb every phrase from the songs, making sure you took note of every new one that he was going to sing.

As the lyrics went on, your eyes filled with tears, Alex hadn't failed to bring nostalgia to it all, it was like you could transport yourself back to that day, having him wake you up with wet kisses in the morning, brunch at the hotel already with bathing suits and the incessant indirect due insecurities. His voice was painful, even in the older songs, and something told you it wasn't just because he was unwell.

"But now the orchestra's got us all surrounded/And I cannot for the life of me remember how they go,"

Your heart squeezed again, not only the line, but also the words, which often seemed disconnected to many, made complete sense to you; as if they were actually made with you in mind.

And by following with, "Whilst wonderin' if your mother still ever thinks of me," completed by, "So predictable, I know what you're thinkin'/I'm watching your every move/I feel the tears are coming on/It won't be long/It won't be long." Not only did you burst into tears, but you cursed yourself for thinking that in all this time, he didn't care about you or that he'd ever be able to keep memories of yourself with him.

Alex had no idea you were there, amidst the dark and fervent flashes of light, he couldn't identify you, though you could tell his lost gaze was searching for you.

With silent tears running down your chin and almost blinding you, before the concert could come to an end, you looked around for familiar faces. You needed a copy of the album.

"Hey, hey," as a signal, James gripped your shoulders. "Are you okay? Does Alex know you're here?"

You shook your head, not quite sure whether you were saying yes or no, but he understood that your answer was that you couldn't say.

"It's just that's, huh, if something happened to you Alex would kill us." That phrase, with Alex's voice singing Humbug songs, brought back damn flashbacks to how Alex always made sure you were okay when you visited on tour, he made such a big deal out of it, since he knew how introverted you could get sometimes. At the moment, you felt ungrateful.

"I'm good," you pushed back the tears, so more could take up space. "I really need to see the album, do you have it with you?" He nodded, forcing himself to ignore your shaky voice.

He pulled out The Cars, in a completely paper cover, as a mere sampler, and placed it in your hands, making sure that the ones that were selling were the same as those printed.

Out of breath in your lungs, you flipped through it quickly, seeing right on the first page one, "With all love and admiration, this is dedicated, as well as co-writing, to my girl." And just below that was your name, in full.

You thought you weren't capable of crying even more, but it was impossible to help. You could feel your face bloated and the salty taste wash over you. Still not fully aware of your senses, you flipped through the lyrics, confirming that each one of them had your name on it, as if you had worked on it together, something that never happened, he had just paid attention to details/lines/memories and then described, and yes, it was all about you.

Before the concert was over, it wouldn't be possible to read all of them in full, but what you saw and heard was more than enough. At that, you grabbed the copy of the album, which was now marked with your tears, and walked back to where you were earlier. Watching them wave goodbye and promising to be back soon while you didn't back down from going after Alex.

As in a scene from a movie, Matthew held Alex's shoulders, directing him towards you, who was failing to stop your tears.

Al's tired eyes seemed to take on a new sparkle, but the moment he noticed your state, his face darkened. Seeing the album in your hand, he knew, but before he could even question it, you were already thrown into him. Your arms laced around his neck and your feet on tiptoe as you squeezed him with all your capacity, and he hugged you back as if he could take your pain for him. And suddenly, the knot in your throat felt tighter and it burned, if before you cried silently now you were imperceptible like a sobbing monster.

"Hey, lil' one," he pushed your hair back to try to see your face, an act that was totally in vain. You buried your head in his chest, holding him to you in fear that you might lose him. "Don't cry, babe, c'mon, tears is one thing that shouldn't be on your face."

"I'm sorry, I'm really am," your body shook as he held your face, kissing the salty drops that insisted on falling. Looking at you like that suffocated him, so his eyes were also filled with water.

"It was nobody's fault, we know that." His forehead pressed against yours, curls messy and clinging to your hair. His nose brushed yours, he refused to take any steps away from you. "It's in the past, right?" he asked through his ragged breaths. You still felt his body as warm as earlier, you still wanted to gift-wrap Al and send him home with you to London, forcing him to take care of himself.

You closed your eyes, enjoying his touch on you. It felt like there was no one else there but you. He kept his hands cupping your face and due to your delay in responding, he lifted your chin towards him. "I hope you weren't upset by the album, it was like a gift to you, I thought you deserved somethin' special. Oh, and it's not plagiarism, I gave you the credits." He kissed your cheek, so subtly, as if you were going to slip through his fingers.

You nodded, you had liked it enough to be there for him, just as you still loved him immensely to have made such a trip to him after hearing how badly he was doing.

"I need you, Al," and it was all you said to feel his lips on yours, his strong arms, yet so gentle, pulling you to him as you took your time amid the salty tears. The feeling was the same, as if you had never been apart.

Minutes later, you were interrupted by applause from the boys and some technicians. You laughed sheepishly and Alex bowed, pretending to thank the tiny audience.

"Stay with me?" He whispered in your ear, hugging you from the side.

"'til you get better?" You kissed his nose, laughing.

"Well, yeah," he wrapped you to himself again, fitting his head to the top of yours, "but also, until we recover the absence of all wasted time."

You smile wider, "I'm all yours, Al."

#keep rereading

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paralianeyes · 2 years ago

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Indigo Night

pairing: Ethan x rest of the characters, more of a Ethan's POV this time

summary: a little something inspired with Indigo Night by Tamino, Ethan is fed up with his friends and goes on a long walk that changes his perspective and attitude

word count: 1.6 k

Contents: mostly angst and fluff, subtle mentions of nudity and hints of supernatural 👀

Måsterlist | tåglist | my new chapter story

“Are you fucking kidding me, Vic?! Whose idea was this?!”

Ethan stood firmly with his hands on his hips, face slightly flushed, nostrils flared. His blood was boiling, it wasn’t easy to get him this furious, to the point where he raised his voice. Yet his friends managed to do it again, the third time this week.

“So?! Who came up with this?!” he growled. Vic sighed and looked at Thomas. He shook his head and raised his arms in the air in a gesture of giving up.

“Damiano…” Vic whispered and looked up at Ethan, biting her lip.

“Of course, it was Damiano, fucking hell…” he hissed and left the room, slamming the door behind himself, making both Vic and Thomas jump.

“what are you yelling about again, Jesus. I can’t even talk on the phone in this house...”

Damiano just got back from the garden and threw his phone on the sofa. Ethan stood in the middle of the living room with arms folded on his chest, face still red and angry.

“Maybe you want to tell me why you once again changed the concept for the album?! Without discussing that with me as well?” Ethan said with more disappointment than rage in his voice.

Damiano sighed and rubbed his face with both hands. He parted his fingers and looked at Ethan.

“Please not now…”

“When?! Are you joking, Damia? We have half of the album ready and now you’re suddenly not happy about it? How are we going to…there’s no time!” his voice cracked at the last syllable. He nervously combed his hair back with both hands and sat down at the edge of the sofa.

“I don’t understand what is your problem, we won’t start over, just change things up a little, you know…”

“But why? We all agreed that what we have is good, we talked about it…”

“Not good enough!” Damiano screamed, a vein showed up on his forehead. Ethan blinked, surprised by the sudden change in his tone.

“Oh…I see. Not good enough…like everything we do, according to you.” he stood up quickly and exhaled. He felt too much, too much at once.

“Edgar…it’s not about you or the guys. Ethan! Where are you…”

“Out.” He growled and left the house, slamming the door once again that evening.

He walked for a long time. Maybe an hour, maybe more. The house they were renting was on the outskirts of the city, close to the woods. Ethan kept breathing, now a bit slower. He felt that his blood was still boiling. ‘Not good enough, he thought and scoffed. Nobody warned him that making an album will be this hard. So little was needed to start a fight, just a tiny spark was enough to cause a fire. And with the four of them, there was nobody to put it out. Well, it was usually him, but not this time.

Ethan felt like his legs knew where to lead him, so he obediently followed. He entered the forest, dark and dense. His path was poorly lit by the full moon, but it was enough. He slowed down, listening to the sounds of the night. Crickets, bats, owls, and some noises in the bushes. He wasn’t scared. It was actually calming him down. The thought is that some things never change. That even if his career will be a failure, the band will fall apart and he’s going to lose his friends - the crickets will still be there, the moon will keep shining and bats will fly above his head.

The gust of wind rustled the leaves, and then it suddenly stopped. That’s when he heard some different noise. Strange one, almost like humming. Ethan closed his eyes, trying to listen to the sound. It was a human voice, more than one. He started slowly walking in the direction from which the melody came from. The forest became less dense, through the thin, young trees he saw a light. He came even closer. It was a bonfire on the beach by the lake.

Ethan smiled but froze when he noticed movement. Six, no…seven girls. They looked his age, maybe a bit older. All dressed in white, long, flowy dresses. Each of them had a big flower crown. He squinted his eyes and noticed that their clothes were almost completely see-through. Their naked bodies covered by thin materials looked magical in the bright, soft light of the bonfire. They danced in a circle while holding hands, singing a slow song. The melody was beautiful, but the language… wasn’t Italian. Latin. Ethan cocked his head to the side and kept watching. It felt wrong, but it wasn’t a lustful look. The mystery of the spectacle he became a quiet observant of, making it a spiritual experience.

Ethan wanted to lean against a thin tree and accidentally stepped on a dry branch. It made a loud, blunt noise. He cursed under his breath. Now he will seem like a creep, lurking in the shadows. He expected to be yelled at, understandably so. But instead, something strange happened. Two girls started walking toward him with subtle smiles on their faces. He frowned but stepped forward, ready for scolding. They were right in front of him, beautiful and mysterious.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t…”

“Shhhhh” One of the girls pressed her slender finger to his lips and smiled a bit more widely. “No need to talk, or to explain. Come with us,” she whispered the last words and grabbed his hand.

Her skin was soft and warm. He sighed in relief and smiled back. The other girl took his other hand and they guided him closer to the fire. The rest of the girls gathered around him, smiling, with curious but soft eyes. One of them gently touched his hair and looked at him, waiting for approval. He nodded and let the girl comb his hair with her fingers. All of them had long and beautiful ones, just like him. He looked around, bewitched by their beauty. One of them looked at him, tugging on his shirt. Ethan smiled and nodded. He suddenly felt more hands on his body. Feather-like touches on his back, sides, neck, head…They started slowly taking his clothes off. When the only thing left on him were his boxers, they stopped and stepped away, giggling. They started one by one, taking off their dresses, and walking into the water. He kept watching, in awe of their bodies and the image in front of him. The last girl let her dress slide down her pale body and turned to him, reaching her hand to Ethan.

“Come with us,” she said softly.

He didn’t question that. None of the things that were happening. He heard stories about girls celebrating the full moon more traditionally, but this felt…surreal. Maybe it was magic, maybe a heat stroke. He didn’t want to waste any time worrying about anything. Not now. Ethan got rid of his boxers and grabbed her hand.

The water was cold, but his heated body found it so soothing, that he sighed in relief. They went deeper until the water reached their shoulders. They surrounded him, all shiny and beautiful. One of the girls took off her flower crown and placed it on his head. She moved a little closer and cupped his face with her hands, wet and cold. He smiled softly and looked deeply into her eyes. There was something so tranquil and mesmerising at this moment. He knew what will happen and anticipated this moment with calmness. The girl pressed her lips to his in a delicate kiss. The rest of them followed. Soon they were all trapped in a bundle of giggles, kisses and wet bodies. One of the girls pressed her hand against his chest, looked into his eyes and nodded reassuringly. The other one gently grabbed his shoulders, pulling him back.

“Let go…” she whispered into his ear.

Her velvety voice made him obey right away. He leaned back and soon later he started floating on the water's surface. They all did the same. Now the eight of them were floating next to each other, staring at the indigo sky. The moon was shining bright, the wind was gone and the water was muffling all the sounds in Ethan’s ears. He breathed slowly, taking the summer air deep into his lungs. He closed his eyes and felt that his body is getting heavier, and his heart is slowing down. All the worries seemed to be sliding down his skin, just like the water drops and sinking into the lake. He smiled, feeling nothing but bliss.

Ethan opened his eyes, not sure how much time had passed. He stood up and looked around. There was nobody there beside him. He frowned, thinking that maybe he was laying there for too long, and the girls just…left. He smiled and shook his head. Maybe it was all a dream. Maybe it still is a dream. He got back to the beach, got dressed and let his wet hair soak the clothes. He didn’t care. The peace he felt was something he never experienced.

He started slowly walking back to the house, barefoot, swinging his shoes in one hand. He got into the living room in the middle of the night, with a soft smile and dreamy eyes. Damiano was still there on the sofa, wrapped in a blanket. He stirred at the sound of someone coming in. He sat up straight and looked at Ethan with concern.

“Ethan I’m sorry, I…” Ethan waved his hand and smiled.

“It’s fine. I’m better now.”

He went back to his room and fell asleep right away, more peaceful than ever. The memory of this strange night would soon fade away. The only thing left was his flower crown, still floating in the lake.

...

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