She felt the
lurch in her stomach as he started to play the opening
riff. He stood
in front of her, black jeans, no shirt, long wet
strands of
straggly blonde hair hung below his shoulders, his white
guitar down
to his knees. She looked at him, her eyes ran over him,
following the
contours of his body, how she wished it was her hands,
she studied
him, god how she wanted to touch him. Run her hands over
his chest,
feel his skin on the palm of her hands, run her fingers
round the waistband
of his jeans. Undo the leather belt on his jeans,
then pull the
leather slowly out from the waistband, feel his hair in
her hands,
tangle her fingers in it. What would it feel like to touch
him. He ran
backwards as Joe came to the front singing…..
I'm outta luck
outta love, got a photograph picture of. Passion
Killer you're
too much you're the only one I wanna touch.
He disappeared into the darkness, she watched, waiting for his return.
I see your face every time I dream, on every page every magazine.
How true was that? About as true as it gets for her. He came back to face her, she stood transfixed, her heart pounding in her chest, she felt sick. God she needed him so much……. too fucking much.
Photograph…..I don't want your…Photograph……I don't need your…..Photograph……all I got is a photograph……..it's not enough
She watched him smashing his fist on Rick's drums, then running back down the steps to the edge of the stage, her side of the stage again…… oh Jesus, there goes that lurch again, her heart aching to have him beside her, holding him in her arms. His eyes, beautiful eyes, but so full of pain, and hurt, let me help you Steve I'll make it better for you baby, I promise.
I'd be your lover if you were there, put your hurt on me if you dare………………..
You got some kind of hold on me, all wrapped up in a mystery, so wild so free so far from me, you're all I want my fantasy.
He had hold of her heart for so long, but he would never know that. She met his eyes as he held his guitar in the air, then dropped it down against himself, almost moving in slow motion with the bass player beside him. Coming to the edge of the stage again he danced then pointed out to her.
I wanna touch you.
He played
under the spotlight, she watched his fingers moving over
the neck of
the guitar, he worked it, he owned it, he knew what he
wanted from
it, forcing it to make the sound he craved in his head,
the sound that
he lived for. Gone again with Phil, up beside Rick's
drum kit, then
down again, his arm in the air as the final chord rang
through the
arena, she watched him swing his arm, round and round and
round again
getting faster, then stopping, waiting for the final cue
from Joe as
he hit the string for the last time. His precious guitar
gone he walked
round the stage, waving, prowling, smiling, oh god
that smile.
Then he was gone.
She stood in a room alone, where? She didn't know, couldn't be sure, but she could still hear the song in her head, she could still see his face, his body, the way he moved. She felt her heart jump as he walked to wards her, alone. Every step he took towards her she took a step back, he held out his hand to her, she looked back at him, shaking her head. Still walking backwards, until she stopped against the wall behind her. He stood in front of her, inches parted them, she studied him again, tiny beads of sweat running down his bare chest, his hair wet, his eyes so full of pain, his heart aching, so was her's, aching for him.
He held his
hand out again, "Touch me" he growled, she shook her
head, "No"
he moved closer still, She could feel the heat from his
body against
hers as he stepped even closer almost touching her "Go
on, touch me"
gingerly she held her hand out and put her hand in his,
his skin soft
just as she thought it would be. He closed his fingers
around her
hand before putting her hand to his chest, she could feel
his heart beating
painfully inside him. She looked deep into his
eyes "I feel
your pain, and hurt" she said softly. He said nothing as
his head fell
to kiss her,her hand ran up his chest, touching him,
feeling him,
taking her breath away from her as she touched him. Her
hands went
up and over his chest covering every inch of him. His eyes
closed his
head fell back, her hands went to his throat, cherishing
what she was
feeling, over his throat, then to the back of his head,
under his hair,
oh god his hair, falling in her face as she pulled
his head back
to her. His lips met hers, just for a moment she lost
herself in
him, tasting him, breathing him, living for him, god he
was so beautiful
"Hold me" he whispered, she pulled him into her,
holding him
as tight as she dare. He pulled back to look at her, his
eyes full of
tears, she stroked his face "oh Steve baby don't" he
shook his head
and turned to leave "don't go……please" she cried,
running after
him. He turned to look at her once more "I'm sorry" he
said. Then
he was gone.
She sat on a
sofa, in a house, didn't know who's house it didn't
matter but
Phil was beside her, Joe opposite, with Steve Sav and
Rick. They
were all talking she couldn't hear anything, what was they
saying,
they were smiling, laughing. Steve looked at her, she smiled
at him, he
smiled back, melting her heart again. She saw his hands go
down to the
bottle that stood on the floor beside him, what was in
it, whiskey,
a huge bottle of whiskey. She shook her head at
him "Don't
baby please" she said. Steve smiled at her, full of ease.
She looked
at Joe "Help him Joe, stop him, please, don't let him
drink it" Joe
sat in silence smiling, before turning to look at Steve
again She looked
desperately at Phil "Please, please help him" she
was begging
them, almost on her knees, watching Steve as the bottle
got closer
to his lips, in slow motion "For gods sake help him, don't
just watch
him, stop him" She watched as Steve drank the contents
fast, too fast.
She stood up "NOO don't Steve please" she screamed as
she tried to
run to him. Ready to tear the bottle from him, but as
his eyes closed
and his head fell back, she hit a wall she couldn't
see, she reached
her hands out to him, but he was too far away. She
sank to her
knees in front of Joe, "Oh Steve no" she turned to look
at Steve.
But he was gone.
She stood alone at his grave, holding a single red rose. A gentle breeze around her, the sky dark and grey. She felt empty and alone without him, so damn alone. She sunk to her knees beside him "Oh shit Steve why? Why, why you?" She sobbed as a breeze surrounded her, she could almost hear his whisper in the wind. "If only I could've been there, if only, god I hate if onlys" she looked at his gravestone "Steve M. Clark. Dearly loved son and brother. Memories are treasures, fragrant and sweet, to Cherish to Hold forever to keep"
She didn't have any memories…….only dreams of him. But she would always cherish him, cherish his smile, the look in his eyes, she would hold them forever in her heart. But her heart had a piece missing, he had taken that with him to his grave, holding it in his hands, as he lay there cold and alone in Sheffield.
She kissed the rose softly before putting it down on the grass above him, "Sleep tight sweetheart, I know your at peace now, and one day, another time and defiantly another place, I'll find you and be with you, I'll hold you tight in my arms, and be there with you, for you, forever. You'll never be alone again." She stood up as another breeze whipped through her coat. She turned to look at his grave as she walked away still with part of her heart missing.
He was gone, he was really gone, only this time it wasn't a dream.
~ The End ~