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rafeshorrorwhore · 3 months ago

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Hourglass

Words: 2.7k

Sorry it took me a while anon, hope you like it xxx

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He didn't think he could ever feel lonely in New York, the city that never sleeps. Yet he felt it tonight sitting on his hotel room bed with only his acoustic guitar for company.

It had been another whirlwind day of interviews and appearances, topped off with an energetic adrenaline-fused gig at Webster Hall. The band were riding high, selling out shows, turning industry heads, amassing a huge following... the sky was the limit. Sweat and smoke still clung to his clothes and his hair, screams and cheers echoed in his ears and tiredness tugged at his eyelids... but he knew that he wouldn't sleep. He never could easily at the best of times and especially not in unfamiliar hotel rooms. He never could settle. Not without her.

He wondered what she was doing now, whether she was thinking about him too. New York was five hours behind so she'd likely still be awake.

He closed his eyes and tipped his head back to rest on the wall behind him, concentrating on summoning up memories of her. Her laugh, her voice, her scent, the comforting feel of her arms wrapped around his waist as they lay in bed, her slight frame pressed up flush against his in the wee small hours of the night. Her feet were always cold and he always grumbled when she rolled over and took the duvet with her. He smiled to himself as he imagined hovering over her, picturing her sulky pout and bed-tousled hair spread out on the pillow as she looked up at him, all sleepy-eyed and soft and pretty. The memories were vivid and they should have been soothing but they only served to make the hollow ache in his chest even more pronounced than ever.

You know when you're gone I struggle at night...

He sighed, reaching for his phone and scrolling for her contact, placing the call. She picked up straight away, her greeting quiet but keen sounding, just like she'd been waiting for him to call.

"Hey, it's good to hear from you."

"It's good to hear your voice."

"It's late," her tone was laced with concern. "Really late... don't you ever sleep? You'll be dead beat tomorrow."

"I can't," he admitted, putting the phone on speaker so he could more easily cradle his guitar. "You know how I struggle when you're not with me. Can't seem to switch off. Can't settle. If you were here with me I'd sleep better."

A quiet giggle down the line. "If I were there with you we wouldn't be sleeping at all and you know it."

"Don't put those ideas in my head babe, that's just cruel when you're thousands of miles away."

He laughed softly, tiredness scratching at his throat, his fingers absentmindedly strumming a chord. Despite the exhaustion weighing down his limbs there was a restlessness thrumming beneath his skin, an itch begging to be scratched. It often stirred in quiet moments like this, a desire to write, to create, to turn the tangle of emotions in his head into something real. A melody and lyrics that would convey the weight of his feelings better than simple words ever could.

"You call that cruel?" She huffed, interrupting his thoughts. "How about you not contacting me for three whole days when you first left for the States? Now that was cruel."

"My phone was fucked, just like I said!" He protested, guilt gnawing at the pit of his belly. "I wouldn't ignore you on purpose love, you know I'd never do that."

"More like you'd just not sorted out roaming on your phone. You're bloody useless with technology, always have been."

There was no hint of accusation in her tone despite her words, more teasing amusement. And she was right, he was old school through and through, his head too caught up in fanciful dreams of playing stadiums and travelling the world to pay much mind to the ordinary mundane things like the settings on his phone.

He chuckled, running a hand through his hair. "Yeah, guilty as charged. You know I'm hopeless with all that. I can barely remember to charge the damn phone let alone sort out international roaming. That's like some serious rocket-science level technical shit. It's well beyond me."

She giggled, warm and comforting, causing any guilt he'd felt at not calling to dissipate in an instant.

"You're lucky you're pretty to look at," she said with a playful lilt. "And an insanely talented song-writer."

"And I'm lucky that you think I am," he replied, his grin stretching wide. "Seriously though, it was horrible not being able to talk to you, felt like part of me was missing. I'd walk off stage buzzing after a show and all I'd wanna do was talk to you. Tell you about how amazing it was. Have you lecturing me about taking a shower 'cause I'd been sweating so bad."

"You do sweat a silly amount on stage, I swear you must leave puddles all over the place," she teased.

"Next you'll be saying I'm not even house-trained yet!"

He plucked a few random notes, closing his eyes as he felt that stirring again, an unfamiliar melody winding its way through his thoughts like smoke on a breeze.

"All jokes aside it is hard," she said, voice growing more solemn. "I'd never begrudge you touring of course, I know how much it means to you and I know how much you love it and need it, but I miss you so goddamn much. Sometimes it's so bad it's like a physical ache. Feel like one of those 1940s wives with a husband who's gone off to fight a war, sitting here all lonely waiting for a letter... or a call in our case."

Her words conjured up an image that fired a spark in his brain and he jolted, quickly hunching forward over the guitar, his fingers curling tight around the frets.

"I'm craving your calls like a soldier's wife... I wanna bring you home myself... I wanna bring you home myself...."

The words spilled from him unbidden, his fingers picking out a gentle melody as he sang, his eyes shut tight, a warmth blooming his chest at the thought of their reunion once the tour was over.

She let out an exhale, curious wonder in her voice as she spoke. "That sounded beautiful... are you... writing... right now?"

"I'm not sure," he murmured, shifting the guitar in his lap, rolling out a crick in his neck. "I feel like there's something there, a verse, a chorus, maybe even a whole song. It's been in the back of my head since we got here but I can't seem to pin it down. It's been haunting me."

"That's not like you at all. Usually lyrics just tumble out of you. I swear it takes you longer to finish a cigarette than write a tune."

"This one's different," he said, voice low and thoughtful. "Feels like I'm having to chase it. It's not some meaningless rambling about getting drunk or having a smoke or falling out with the manager this time. It means something, it feels more intimate..." he paused, trying to transform his racing thoughts into words. "It's about us, about how much I miss you when you're not around. How it feels to be so far away from the only thing in this life that keeps me grounded... and it's definitely going on the album."

There was a beat of silence and he imagined her sitting up straight, pressing the phone tight to her ear like that would make the physical distance between them somehow closer.

"You're writing a song for the album... about me?"

"Babe, I've got a whole notebook of 'em right here, it's not gonna be the only one, I can tell you that for sure. Gonna dedicate the whole thing to you, and this is only the start."

"Shit," she breathed out, her voice cracking. "You really mean it?"

"Every word love... it's all for you. These songs, the band, the touring, the sleepless nights... it's all for you... well for us. It's for our future together."

She was quiet for a moment, like she was absorbing the weight of his words, then she let out a breathy laugh, a little giddy, overwhelmed.

"You've got our future all worked out then, huh? You must have been giving it a lot of thought."

Emotion was thick in her voice, that unmistakeable wobble that always gave her away when she was trying hard not to cry. It made his own throat feel tight.

"You know me, always looking ahead, always dreaming big. Been thinking about you and me, big house on the coast, one of those big fancy kitchens you love, a couple of dogs, maybe a few baby McCanns running around..."

"Woah... slow down!" She cut him off, her laughter bright and infectious, filling the distance between them. "We've only been together for six months and you already have me carrying your children. What's next? A diamond ring?"

He laughed too, embarrassed that he'd let his thoughts run away with him. He couldn't help it though, she'd always had that effect on him. Hell, he'd practically been writing his wedding vows the night their eyes had first met across a crowded bar. She was addicting in the best possible way.

"I'm just putting it out into the universe, that's all," he said, lightly with a hint of sincerity he hoped she'd not miss. "Don't worry, I'm not gonna be waiting there on one knee when you meet me at Heathrow next week or anything like that, but I'd be lying if I said I didn't see this as a long-term thing. I can't help it, it's just where my thoughts end up going when I think of us. It just feels... natural... like it's meant to be. Whenever I think about my future you're in it... always."

There was silence again but it wasn't awkward, it was charged. It felt full of the possibility of something that made him feel simultaneously exhilarated but terrified in equal measures, like he was putting his heart on the line, casting it out on a hook to see if he'd land his prize catch. He just hoped she felt the same.

Finally, she spoke, a quiet strength in her voice like she meant every word. "You're in mine too. I never said it before but since we're being so open with each other then what the hell. I've actually been thinking about it too... a lot. Wondering what the future holds, hoping we'll stand the test of time."

"We will," his answer was immediate and definite, his confidence bolstered by her admission. "When the band take off and our debut album goes platinum I want you there by my side through all of it."

She blew out a breath. "Platinum, eh?"

"You can count on it."

"We'd better make this song a good one then..."

He blinked, surprised, his fingers stilling on the frets. "We?"

"Yeah... we," she echoed. "Isn't that what we're doing? Writing it together?"

Her voice was tentative, nervous sounding like she wasn't sure how he'd react. He'd told her before that song-writing was something he only did solo, but this was different, just like he'd said. He couldn't think of anything he'd rather do in that moment than write a song with the woman he loved... not that he'd told her that yet, despite the talk of children and wedding bells. A grin spread across his face, slow and genuine, his heart swelling as he plucked out a few soft notes.

"I guess we are writing it together... so, come on then, what would you add? What do you miss about me when I'm away? What drives you mad when we're apart?"

"You drive me mad full stop!" She shot back, sniggering. "And you didn't ask but I'll tell you what I don't miss... your untidy clutter all over my flat, and the way you bring home every cough and cold from the tour bus. I swear I get sick every single time you come back. You can keep your germs to yourself in future, thank you very much."

He chuckled, loud and hearty, loving the cheeky banter they shared. "There was me trying to be generous as well... and if we're gonna go down that route then we need a line about how you hog the bedsheets... and steal all my jumpers... and snore like an old man. That's definitely going in!"

"Me? Snore? That's slander!" She gasped, feigning offence, then her voice turned softer as their laughter finally died away. "You know what I do miss though? You camping out on my sofa with that old beat-up guitar of yours, wasting whole weekends talking about chord progressions and bridges like they're the most important things in the world."

He smiled as he let his fingers brush gently over the strings. "They are important love."

But she wasn't finished, her voice hushing to a secretive whisper just for him. "I miss showering with you too... and I miss your lips... miss you kissing me all over."

"There you go again with your one track mind! Let's keep this PG!”

She giggled again, full of mischief. "I'm sorry if I sound sordid. I can't help it, I just miss you too much."

He smirked to himself. ‘I'm sorry if I sound sordid’... that was a great line... he'd have to remember that one. God how he wished he could be there with her right now, doing all those things she missed.

"Don't apologise babe, please. Trust me, we're gonna be catching up on all this lost time as soon as I get back."

"Promise?"

"I promise... and I think I have this song all worked out now, thanks to you."

"Really? Just from this silly conversation?"

She sounded eager with a hint of disbelief, and he could almost see her in his mind's eye at that very moment. She'd be propped up on her bed amongst her fluffy pillows, phone cradled between her shoulder and ear, lips curled into that gorgeous smile she always wore when she got excited about something.

"Yeah, and it's not silly, not at all. It's what a true love song should be. It's not polished and it's not perfect. It should be messy, raw, real..."

"Scruffy?" she offered hopefully.

"Yes, that's exactly it. It should be scruffy. 'Scruffy love songs'. I love it..." His voice caught a little. "Just like I love you."

There was another pause, even longer this time, but he didn't feel nervous. Not now. He could feel her there on the other end of the line, missing him, yearning for him, incomplete without him just like he felt when they were apart.

"I love you too," she said, barely above a whisper.

For a moment, there was no distance between them, no time zones, no missed calls, no vast ocean or lonely hotel room beds.

He shifted his guitar more comfortably in his lap, his fingers finding the strings with ease now, no longer chasing the melody but letting it flow through him. He started to hum a line, then sang softly, the notes echoing around the room...

You know when you're gone I struggle at night

Dreams of you fucking me all the time

And I know your tied up

And I know your phone's fucked

I'm craving your calls like a soldier's wife

I wanna bring you home myself

Bring you home myself

Come back, move in, mess my place

Chest infect me, waste my days

'Cause I know you love to drive me up the wall

I know you love to drive me up the wall

I wanna bring you home myself