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You Gotta Feel Something; Lars/OFC. 1982-1984
Topic Started: September 26, 2011, 8:46 pm (2,925 Views)
disposable_hero
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Frantic
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Sorry I haven't updated in a while, guys. I've been extremely busy with school and the like, but I should have a part or two up this weekend. If not, then next week.

Sorry again. :D
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Isis
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TEA + CUDDLES

YAY :D
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disposable_hero
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I got you this.

- - - -

Upon entering the Metallimansion, I made a beeline for the bathroom. I locked the door behind me and started to undress. As I brought my shirt over my head, Lars knocked on the door.

"Zelda? Are you alright?" He knocked again. "Zelda?"

The desperation in his voice upset me. Tears pricked my eyes and I felt a sob building in my chest. He just wanted to help and here I was, being standoffish and shit. Disgusted with myself, I sighed. "I...I'm fine!"

Why was I so fucking selfish? I loved him and I knew it, but I wouldn't tell him. He would never know, I promised myself that already. It was like I was using him, baiting him.

"Then let me in," he said, trying the door knob. I pretended not to hear him and turned the shower on.

Good timing, too, because I started crying just seconds afterward. Ignoring Lars' persistent calls and knocking, I dove into the steaminess of the shower, hoping to wash away all of my sand and idiocies.

- - - -

"Are you gonna talk to me now?" Lars asked me from his bed, his voice low as he watched me cross the room. I tightened the grip on my towel, clutching it to my chest and headed for the dresser. "Or you can ignore me." He huffed. "That works, too."

Thin Lizzy played from the stereo in the corner of the room and easily masked my silence. Lars' green eyes bore into me as I dressed into a pair of shorts and a hooded sweatshirt. Phil Lynott sang as I turned and faced Lars:

Up till now I used to pass my time
Drinking beer so slowly, sometimes wine
No God, air, water or sunshine
And honesty was my only excuse
I took your love and I used it


Fuck.

Fuck!

Fucking Thin Lizzy and their relevant lyrics.

"Zelda, come on." Lars held out his hand to me. "Come here. Tell me what's wrong."

This was serious Lars, the Lars I only saw when he was dealing with the band or money or, worse yet, clothes. The last time I saw Lars this serious, so stoic, was when I left home. He wasn't going to drop this, so I relented and took his hand. He pulled me onto the bed. "Talk," he suggested, leaning back.

"When we were on the dune, you said that..." I coughed, hesitant, and Lars poked me in the side, getting me to continue. "You said that...fuck, this sounds stupid, but you said that I loved you."

The Dane blinked, as if to say, That's all?

"Don't you?" He blinked again, like the subject wasn't a tough one to talk about. His calmness irritated me. Why couldn't I be like he was? So passive and all. It was all so easy for him. "I do love you. Don't you feel the same way?"

Lars looked down at me and raised his eyebrows. When I looked away, he did that thing where he took my chin in his hand and tilted my face to his. I hated when he did that thing. "I...uh, I dunno."

"You...don't know?" The brunette blinked a few times and slowly tilted his head to the side, confused. "How don't you know?"

"It's um, it's a tough subject."

"What's tough about it? You either love me or you don't." He blew some hair out of his face and shrugged. It was then that I got it.

I understood why Lars was so easy-going. Everything was black and white to him; if it wasn't one thing, it was the other thing.

One or the other.

There was nothing in between, no gray area.

With this mindset, he didn't need to overanalyze and rethink things until he felt like ripping his brain out through his ear like I did. Everything was so simple to him. This or that, nothing in between. That's why he, an eighteen year old boy, was so quick to tell me he loved me. He knew no other girl, so how would he know?

I didn't doubt his love for me, though. I was happy that he felt the same way, fucking elated, but I wouldn't admit it. I was still thoroughly convinced he would leave me if I said a word.

After a few moments of silence, I sighed. "It's not that easy, Lars." He furrowed his eyebrows at me and abruptly got up from the bed. I deflated and reached for him, but he moved away. "Just give me time, okay? That's all I want."

"I leave in three months." He made way for the door and wretched it open. He paused with the door in his grip. "There's your time."

The door slammed with his exit, making me flinch.

I contemplated going after him, but I figured I was better off keeping to myself for a few days. Though Lars was so breezy most of the time, just letting shit pass him by with a lazy smile, he was a brat when things didn't go his way. I didn't blame him for acting that way, since Torben and Lone spoiled him rotten when he was a kid. It's just the way he was and I didn't mind it, but God, was it inconvenient at a time like this.

- - - -

The next two months and some weeks passed with Lars letting out frequent I love you's, as though he were trying to convince me that it was okay to say, but I was growing more and more frightened of admitting my feelings for him. And yet, he kept on saying it.

When he was drunk.

When he was tired.

When he did something for me.

When I did something for him.

Before sex. During sex. After sex.

So, all the time.

Normally, when he said it, I froze up for a few seconds and then acted as if it didn't happen. It normally didn't aggravate him, but on one particular night, after we returned home from a party, he was extra annoyed with me. We were both in bad moods, only heightened by the drinking done just hours before.

As we fell into bed, both nude and sweaty after sex, Lars wrapped his arms around me despite his bad mood. We lay there, me in his arms with our legs tangled together, until we could breathe again. "Jeg elsker dig," he muttered, burying his face in my hair.

"Just because you said it in Danish doesn't make me any less uncomfortable."

Lars sighed and his breath tickled my cheek. 'Uncomfortable? That's how you feel around me?"

"You're misinterpreting. The phrase makes me uncomfortable." I looked up and frowned. "Not you." I shook my head. "Never you."

"Why can't you just say it, Zelda? Just say that you love me. I know you do." He let out a soft scoff. "You know you do."

I pushed away from Lars, fed up with his encouragement. He let out a grunt of disapproval and reached for me, but I rolled off of the bed and started to dress. I couldn't deal with his shit anymore. Why couldn't he be content just leaving me be? Why did he have to poke at me and bait me?

"What?" Lars sat up and narrowed his green eyes at me. "What'd I do now?"

"You don't get it, do you?" I looked up at him and he blinked. "I'm afraid, Lars! You don't fucking get it!"

"What's there to get?!" Lars sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed. He swiped his black briefs from the floor, pulling them on before he stood up. "Why won't you tell me?!"

"Could you two shut up? I'm about to go to sleep," someone, maybe James, called from the hall.

"Sorry," I replied with a halfhearted call, turning to the door. As I turned to face Lars, I felt his hand on my hip. He hugged me to his chest. "I know what you want, Lars, but I'm not saying it. I'm sorry."

"Why are you so scared? Nothing's going to happen." He gave me a reassuring squeeze. "I just want to hear it."

I pulled away from him. Again, he blinked at me. Always with the blinking. "Everyone I love leaves at some point." I settled on his bed and brought my legs to my chest, resting my chin on my knees like the child I was. "I figured if I didn't tell you, you couldn't leave."

"Nej, smukke." Lars sat down next to me and put his arm around my shoulder while he rested his head against mine. "You're so stupid to think I would leave you. I'd never do that."

"That's what my dad said. I haven't seen him in ten years." I let out a snort of laughter and buried my face into my knees. Tears pooled over and soaked my legs. I sniffled loudly and I flinched when Lars placed his hand on the back of my neck. He let out a soothing 'shh' and tilted me backwards. We were laying then, my back pressed to his chest.

"We can drop it," he said in my ear. "It's fine."

As I drifted off, I couldn't help but wonder why he was so quick to drop the subject. Perhaps he was giving up on me. If he was, I didn't blame him. I really didn't.
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Isis
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TEA + CUDDLES

jsldkfjksldjlskjdfksldjflksjdfslkdjf he dropped it because he loves you Zelda ;_________; believe hiiiiiim slkdjfskdf

YAY UPDATE THANK YOU ;; :heart:
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Lars Mi Amor
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Lars the Great
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I know I haven't commented on your story but you know I love it and read it everytime you put up an update :heart:

Poor Lars. Poor Zelda. I feel bad for them both! Oh if she says I love you soon, I would be happy :heart:
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picklegal1
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Dat boi shit waddup
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Lars Mi Amor
November 15, 2011, 5:22 pm
I know I haven't commented on your story but you know I love it and read it everytime you put up an update :heart:

Poor Lars. Poor Zelda. I feel bad for them both! Oh if she says I love you soon, I would be happy :heart:
+1
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MasterOfPuppets
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Damn! That was great!! :heart: :heart: :tu:

I'd say to Lars "I FUCKING LOVE YOU" too quick after know him haha

Keep on :horns2
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disposable_hero
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You girls are the best.

Thanks for your comments and whatnot. I really appreciate them. :)

- - - -

Lars mumbled in his sleep and I jerked forward, gasping loudly. He turned over and mumbled again, leaving me to catch my breath. I threw the blanket back and climbed out of bed, my chest heaving. By the time I reached my appointed destination, the bathroom, I was breathing so loudly I thought I would wake the whole neighborhood.

I couldn't breathe.

I was hyperventilating.

I was having a panic attack, something I hadn't had since I was a kid.

"Oh, God. Oh, God," I repeated as I gripped the sink. I kept saying it as I turned on the water and as I splashed said water onto my face, soaking my shirt. My mantra continued in my mind as my feet carried me back to Lars' room: ohgodohgodohgodohgodohgodohgod.

"Zelda?" Lars' head popped up from the bed after I closed the door. Fuck him for being a light sleeper. "What's wrong?"

I settled on the edge of the bed and shook my head. "Nothing, I was just getting a drink."

"Okay, come back to sleep." Looking over my shoulder, I saw Lars let out a loud yawn. He caught my eye and gave me a sleepy smile, which I halfheartedly returned. I nodded slowly and he closed his eyes, satisfied. As he snored away, I eyed the bags in the corner of the room, right near the door.

They were packed for Europe. We were leaving in four days. This time, I was going with Lars and the band instead of staying here. I was supposed to be an assistant to one of the only chicks on the road crew, a lighting tech, but everyone knew it was just so the record company didn't flip shit, knowing they were paying for a stowaway.

Suddenly, though, I didn't want to go. I felt trapped. I wanted out.

I rose from the bed, taking care not to wake Lars again. I dressed quietly in the clothes I'd set aside for the next few days, then gathered up my bags and exited the room. I deposited them outside the door before I rummaged around Lars' room for a pencil and a piece of paper. I wrote a short note and left it on top of his stereo, using a Black Sabbath tape to anchor it down. Then, I tiptoed through the Metallimansion and, upon reaching the porch, I let out a large sigh of relief.

I needed time for myself.

- - - -

My night was spent in the backseat of my car, parked only a few blocks away from the Metallimansion. When the sun rose and woke me up, I realized what I had done, but I didn't regret it.

At least, not immediately.

- - - -

I didn't regret my decision to leave until I rented an apartment in San Rafael, about twenty minutes away from the Metallimansion, and realized how much I disliked being alone. At my apartment, there were no guys to cook for, no James to tease, no Kirk to watch horror movies with, no Cliff to get high with, no Joni to play with. And there was no Lars.

No Lars to cuddle with on the couch.

No Lars to make love to.

No Lars to listen to music with.

No Lars. Period.

I missed him, but I couldn't even return to him since he was still in Europe with Metallica.

As I rolled over in bed, a sigh tumbled from behind my lips. I just wanted to go back to the Metallimansion. I wanted to go home.

How could I have been so fucking dumb?

I sat up in bed, letting out another sigh of self-pity. I closed my eyes and ran my hands down my face; when I opened my eyes, they found the bracelet Lars gave me, dangling on my wrist. I hadn't taken it off since he had given it to me and, as I stared at it, I felt a wave of sadness crash over me.

I was so fucking stupid!

As I stared at my bracelet, I figured the only way to reconcile with myself was to do what I did when my mom kicked me out: surround myself with Lars to make myself feel better.

A cold wind blew through my window, making me shiver and contemplate my decision. Maybe it was too cold to sneak into the Metallimansion. Both God and I knew the heat wasn't working. The thought made me smile, remembering the cold nights Lars and I spent in his bed, pressed to one another for warmth.

"You're pathetic," I said to myself, climbing out of bed. As I dressed, memories of Lars flooded my mind. I was silent as I got ready and I was silent as I drove the twenty minutes to the Metallimansion. I didn't even turn on the radio. It was me and my thoughts of Lars on the way to the house in El Cerrito.

- - - -

I entered the Metallimansion quietly, as though I were expecting sleeping boys or a rowdy, barking dog, but nothing greeted me but a small pile of postcards, littered in front of the door. I kicked the door shut behind me and crouched down to collect one of the postcards. It had a cliché picture of the Eiffel Tower on the front.

It was dated the sixteenth of November, the day Metallica arrived in France. The background was covered with in Lars' scratchy handwriting:

Shit, I hope this gets there. There being the house. Maybe you're back, maybe you're not. I don't know where you went, but you left. You didn't even leave a note, Zelda. Fuck fuck fuck fuck! I love you.

Wish you were here (could I get anymore cliché??),
Lars


A note?

I left a note on his stereo.

He was so oblivious.

Scooping up the postcards, I headed for Lars' room. I spread out the postcards on the bed and headed for the stereo, but the note I left there a month earlier was nowhere to be seen. Stumped, I huffed loudly and scanned the room with my hands on my hips. When I didn't find the white piece of paper, I got down on my hands and knees and looked underneath the dresser and, lo and behold, there it was.

Fuck.

I pulled it out from under the dresser and held it in front of me.

Hey baby,

Sorry I'm leaving you with this the day before we leave, but I need some time to myself. I'll come back when you come back.

I love you,
Zelda


He thought I was gone for good. Had he read the note, he wouldn't have been sending postcards to the house, asking me where I was and telling me how much he missed me.

I crumbled and broke into tears, eventually settling on the bed with the postcards in hand. I picked one out of the pile and read it to myself, blubbering stupidly as tears soaked my front.

Dec. 12

Remember when we met? It wasn't even that long ago (a year ago today), so you should. Thinking about it drives me insane. You were fucking tanning in the middle of December in that black bikini. Drove me nuts. Dave thought you were stupid, but I thought (still think!) you were so hot. And then we listened to Budgie and made out and talked. I need to see you again. I miss you. I really hope you're there when I get back on the 21st.

-Lars


The twenty-first.

That was today.

My note said I would be back when Lars was back and here I was, unbeknownst to me until just then, waiting for him in his house, in his room, in his bed, surrounded by his postcards. This had to be some weird twist of fate.

I looked down at the pile of postcards next to me and frowned. It seemed Lars wrote one for everyday he was away. He was so fucking thoughtful and then there was me: the stupid bitch who left him for lonely nights in a drafty apartment.

What did he ever see in me? I was terrible.
Edited by disposable_hero, November 20, 2011, 2:14 am.
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Isis
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WAH ;________;

omg drama cliffhanger, LARS IS COMING BACK. :o
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picklegal1
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Dat boi shit waddup
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OMFG poor Zelda, poor Lars


this is getting good :biggrin :tu:
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MasterOfPuppets
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♉ Love that little man always on my mind ♑
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Aww... I'm sad now! :lol:

Was great! Stupid Zelda! :heart: I'm loving this more and more :heart: :heart: :heart:


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disposable_hero
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Sorry I haven't updated it a while. This coming week is the last week of the semester, so I'll be too busy failing finals to write/post anything. But during break I promise I'll finish up this fic.

Thanks for reading and commenting. :heart: :heart:
Edited by disposable_hero, November 30, 2011, 1:41 pm.
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ElisabethOrion
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I'm creatively constipated.
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*poke* *poke* :D
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annab17
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Bad Seed
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Hey I love this story
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MasterOfPuppets
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♉ Love that little man always on my mind ♑
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I miss this :( so bad!
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