there's nothing more beautiful than the irish lads being forced to work in teams of two and dan and kevin locking the fuck in while brian and daithi bicker the entire time
Summary: waking up to a melody he can't forget, she becomes the subject of his mindless playing
Warnings: fluff
Wordcount: 0.8k
Masterlist, Fontaines D.C. Masterlist
It stuck to him like honey on his lips. The quiet hum that wouldn't let him sleep peacefully. The unrecognizable song that became one of his favourite melodies over the span of days that it played like a broken record in his mind. No amount of repetitions could make him forget it though it never started to bother him. Not even when he couldn't figure it out. It's purpose laying in front of him in the form of a thousand tiny puzzle pieces. The game plan being one that he could recite in his sleep.
Writing came to him like second nature. It always did. It was the equivalent to breathing in his system. Keeping his bones healthy and his muscles steady. The nerves it now had to come to him so vigorously.
Sunday came and it was still there. Humming while he brushed pack pieces of hair that fell into her face throughout the course of night. Her almost bare chest pressing against his side, their legs tangled up together. Stretching in her sleep, getting to the part of her morning where she was in that perfect in between of dreaming and real life. Her dream-state still having the upper hand though slowly the sun sent it to rest. Letting consciousness take over.
And all he could do was watch in awe at how her nose scrunched up as she nuzzled her face into his pillow. The way her fingers seemed to feel for him even in her sleep made his heart melt.
Bathing in her presence, it felt like this was all he ever wanted to hold in the palm of his hand. Reaching out, tracing the outlines of her face, it came to him like bees to flowers for pollen.
She's been his favourite for a long time.
Gently trying to untangle his limbs from hers, he let his heart to be held warm by her touch. Settling on the piano bench they had situated in the corner of their living room for the time while they tried figuring out where to put it. His fingers flew over the keys like they knew better what he wanted than he himself did.
Soft chords filling the quiet morning space, being carried to her ears by the wind that pushed itself through the windows and doors until reaching her.
The sounds switched between chords and mumbled words steadily, waking her without a second thought but him occupying her mind. Stretching her limbs, sprawled out all over the sheets. Turning on her back, she breathed in the memory of him. Looking out the window as the birds flew by on their way home from the west. It was warm enough again for them and they came back home for the summer.
Pushing the covers to her feet, not caring to make the bed, she made her way closer to where he called her from. The melody becoming louder, clearer. His words more coherent. "You've been my favourite for a long time."
Still plagued by tired eyes, careful not to startle him, she settled down on the chair that was already used to her presence whenever he decided to play and she was in the mood to adore. Pulling her knee to her chest, resting her head on her arms that were draped over her leg, she let her eyes fall shut again. Darkness taking over her vision. The sun creating plays of lights underneath her eyelids. She felt nothing of her body and all of his voice.
"Is that what you've been singing the whole time around the house?" she asked, recognizing the melody when he tried out a different chord structure for the verse.
"Pretty much. Only found a rhythm to it now though," he answered, losing his hand to pull her leg by her ankle into his lap and letting it rest there.
"It's good," she said. Smiling and opening one eye to see his reaction at her praise. It was a sight for sore eyes. The dimples that formed on his face. The way his head bowed down to hide the blush he couldn't control. Though he couldn't hide the moment he played the wrong key or the quiet tone of his voice as he spoke.
"Thanks." Though it were his next words that made her wake up fully. "It's about you."
"So the chances of this being my favourite on the album are high," she concluded, shielding her own flustered state with a joke.
"You have high expectations, love."
"Who would I be if I didn't trust you with writing good love songs given all the other marvelous things you've already done?" she laughed, raising her eyebrows.
Her laughter dying out like a candle trapped without oxygen before he added fuel to the fire. His own fit of giggles turning into slashed out laughing when he looked at her.
"You're ridiculous," he let out in between the rumble of his chest and the attempt of catching his breath. Squeezing her ankle, shaking his head.
This was it. It was them captured in a memory forever. Her captured in a song.
