Work Text:
You roll over in the bed with a soft groan, stretching out your naked body. Your hands start to pat down the space next to you, trying to find your ageless husband but your arms found nothing. You could hear the cymbals being struck gently, it was coming from the living room. You groan loudly and turn back over onto your stomach, of course he was out there trying to record. He’s been at it for weeks now without a break but he isn’t getting any closer to a new track. It takes ages for him to assemble his music, you get that. It’s his own little hobby and you weren’t one to take it from him. You actually loved his music, there was something about it that just made you feel things. You couldn’t quite explain it.
‘‘Fuck!’‘
You heard Adam raise his voice, it sounded like the cymbals came off the drum set and crashed to the floor. Yawning, you sit up and get out of the bed. He should sleep in sometimes, you checked the clock to reveal it was around 2 AM. You couldn’t remember the last time you woke up so late, it’s definitely been centuries. Suddenly everything went quiet. Heavy rainfall crashing against the glass windows and the creaking of the floorboards filled the house. You stood in the empty bedroom for a moment, allowing the sounds to crawl over your skin. You could feel the goosebumps slowly forming on your skin as the house started creaking again. You reach for one of Adam’s shirts and pull it over your head. You could possibly tempt him back to bed if you showed up naked but you didn’t want to take him away from his work unless he needed it.
You go out into the hallway, Adam had booted up some music for inspiration, you could hear Syd Barrett’s ‘’Baby Lemonade’’ playing rather softly. You smiled and closed your eyes for a second, swaying from side to side. Music was the one thing Adam knew the best, you started to think back to all those late night shows he took you too. He had taken you to see Pink Floyd live once and you could never forget the smile on his face that night. You hummed to the melody, dancing down the hallway. You were too lost in the moment to notice where you were, Adam looked away from the stereo as he saw you entering the living room. His pupils dilated at the sight of you, folding his arms to watch you dance. It was as if his inspiration had just suddenly walked into the room, which it did. So many of his music pieces were written about you, for you. One of his most popular ones was named after you, the one piece that is most known in that underground music scene he was a part of.
You gasped as you felt Adam’s chest press up against your back, his arms wrapped tightly around your midsection. You kept your eyes closed, the smell of him was so overbearing at times like this. So sweet, Adam leaned his head against your own as he swayed you around the living room floor. The music kept playing in the background, you could feel it flying straight through you. Adam’s mouth found your neck and you sighed softly, a small hum escaped his throat as he felt your skin underneath his lips. You raised your arms up and your fingers interlock behind his head as he continues swaying you from side to side.
‘‘Evening, darling…’‘
You giggled as he whispered into your ear, the song was almost at the end. It felt like it had just begun just a second ago, time really did go by so fast when you don’t age. You turned around in Adam’s arms and wrapped your own around his neck, he pressed his forehead against yours. Taking a moment to look at you, slow dancing in the dark living room. It was being in stasis, one of those never ending moments of bliss. Adam’s nostrils flared up a little as he inhaled the scent of you, he was pleased to note that you smelled just like him now that you were wearing his shirt. He suddenly reached his arms down behind your upper thighs and picked you up. You instantly wrapped your legs around his waist, holding tightly onto him. He carried you out of the living room and down the hall.
‘‘What about your music?’’
‘‘It can wait.’‘
You smiled and pressed your lips to his chapped ones, the taste of blood still lingered on the tip of his tongue. There was no note sweeter than the sound of his voice, Adam carried you into the bedroom and kicked the door with his heel.
‘‘Why don’t we sing some of our own tunes for a change?’‘