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blackmetaltv · 6 months

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Erik Danielsson (Watain) with Frost (Satyricon & 1349).

#watain #satyricon #1349 #blackmetal #blackmetaltv #black metal #frost drummer #erik danielsson #norwegin black metal #swedish black metal

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princesssarisa · 6 months

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I was going to wait till December to share this poll, but so many Christmas decorations are popping up everywhere that I already have the spirit and can't wait anymore.

If you grew up with the classic Rankin/Bass animated Christmas specials – both stop-motion and traditional animation – which one is your favorite?

#poll #christmas #holiday #rankin/bass #christmas specials #holiday specials #rudolph the red nosed reindeer #the little drummer boy #frosty the snowman #santa claus is comin' to town #the year without a santa claus #'twas the night before christmas #jack frost #nestor the long-eared christmas donkey #pinocchio's christmas #the life and adventures of santa claus

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rankinbassheadcanons · 2 years

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ATTENTION ALL RANKIN/BASS LOVERS!

Universal has teamed up with Warner Brothers Studious and is releasing a collection with EVERY Christmas special they ever made (yes, even the obscure ones. It’s about $50-$60 on Amazon (but Walmart has it for cheaper with a longer wait)

It’s been years since we’ve gotten any news like this so it’s super exciting that we’re finally getting FED.

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savage-kult-of-gorthaur · 5 months

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"TO THE GREAT BEAST" I SUBMIT THESE OUTTAKES -- HAIL TO THE MIGHTY FROST.

PIC(S) INFO: Spotlight on previously unpublished outtakes from the "To Mega Therion" photo session, shot by Ernst Wirz in Zurich, Switzerland, in September 1985.

Main shot, from left: Reed St. Mark, Thomas Gabriel Fischer, and studio bassist Dominic Steiner. Bottom shot: "To Mega Therion" rehearsals in Birchwil, Switzerland, summer 1985. 📸: Martin Kyburz.

Source: https://fischerisdead.blogspot.com/2020/10/necromantical-screams.html.

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woodlandtrust · 1 year

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The Heart of the Woods, by John Burroughs

I hear it beat in morning still When April skies have lost their gloom, And through the woods there runs a thrill That wakes arbutus into bloom. I hear it throb in sprouting May, — A muffled murmur on the breeze, Like mellow thunder leagues away, Or booming voice of distant seas. In daisied June I catch its roll, Pulsing through the leafy shade ; And fain I am to reach its goal, And see the drummer unafraid. Or when the autumn leaves are shed, And frosts attend the fading year, Like secret mine sprung by my tread A covey bursts from hiding near. I feel its pulse ’mid winter snows, And feel my own with added force, When red-ruff drops his cautious pose, And forward takes his humming course. The startled birches shake their curls, A withered leaf leaps in the breeze ; Some hidden mortar speaks, and hurls Its feathered missile through the trees. Compact of life, of fervent wing, A dynamo of feathered power, Thy drum is music in the spring, Thy flight is music every hour.

#woodland trust #poetry #tree poetry #John Burroughs

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bloodysyren · 15 days

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A little something for @moon-the-silly-evil for taking my little sketch request! On AO3 too!!

Phantom angers Dew and takes refuge on Mountain’s shoulders.

WC: 926.

A bit of Rain/Phantom fluff at the end. I couldn’t resist.

Phantom’s day had started out well enough, but it got significantly worse and more entertaining the longer it went on. He was getting breakfast in the common room and sat next to Rain. The bassist was tearing into a pile of pastries while Mountain sat across from his lover, nursing an ever-steaming cup of tea.

“Morning, Bug. Sleep well?”

Phantom stifled a yawn and cheekily nicked one of Rain’s pastries. A miffed snarl rose on the bassist’s lips, but Mountain squeezed the Water Ghoul’s thigh under the table with his tail. Phantom was still new and didn’t know how much of a pillow hog and late riser the bassist was in the morning.

“I slept pretty well,” Phantom replied, licking sweet frosting off his fingers.

“You should go ask Dewdrop how his morning was, or should I say night, with the look of those love bites Swiss left him.”

Mountain gave his lover a pointed look, but Rain just smiled saccharinely. “Oh, and I almost forgot, not many people know this, but he loves the nickname Dew-Dew.”

“Rain…” The drummer’s tone was a warning snarl, and Phantom had the feeling he was being played. He did enjoy a good joke though. So even though he didn’t want to inflict the guitarist’s ire just for Rain’s amusement, the nickname was stupidly adorable. And exploitable.

The teasing started out innocently enough: Phantom squeezing by Dew in the practice room, putting his guitar away. “S’cuse me, Dew-Dew.” The nickname was practically whispered under his breath, but the Fire Ghoul’s ears still pricked.

The next time, Phantom was a touch bolder, meeting Dew and Swiss in the hallway. The cheeky Quintessence Ghoul “accidentally” bumped the guitarist’s shoulder and turned. “Oh, sorry, Dew-Dew!” The Fire Ghoul snarled as Swiss put a steadying hand on Dew’s shoulder.

“Stop calling me that.”

“What’s wrong, Dew-Dew? Not a fan of your cute nickname?” The guitarist shrugged Swiss’ hand off and took an angry step towards Phantom, who skipped backwards just out of range.

“I’m going to choke you until you pass out,” the guitarist snarled. A flash of uncertainty streaked across the rhythm guitarist’s face, but he still had some snark left as he trilled, “Only if you can catch me first, Dew-Dew!”

Phantom took off at a run as Dewdrop made a grab for his tail. The Quintessence Ghoul heard the guitarist growl behind him as Dew gave chase. Phantom skidded around the corner and nearly collided with Papa as he fled the Ghoul he had deliberately poked.

The rhythm guitarist tore down the hallway and down towards a huge set of frosted double doors. He pushed through them and was immediately in a forest of bright, waxy green. The Quintessence Ghoul spotted Mountain in a dirt-smeared apron, repotting a small sapling.

Phantom made a scared, desperate sound and clambered up the Earth Ghoul’s leg, clinging to Mountain’s broad shoulders and tangled locks as he struggled to escape Dew’s wrath. Mountain loosed a resigned sigh. “Phantom, what did you do?”

The guitarist burst through the doors, stalking towards the drummer and his miserable hanger-on. “Just let me bite him once, Mountain,” Dew snarled, starting to climb Mountain’s legs.

“I think that the two of you need to sort out your differences somewhere else.” Mountain walked towards the doors as if he had two unruly kits clinging to him. He pried Dew, scratching and flailing, off of his thigh, holding him at arm’s length as he reached back for the scruff of Phantom’s neck.

“Go talk to Rain if you want to fight it out, but if you stay in here with me, I will not be responsible for your safety.” The drummer shoved them both unceremoniously out of the greenhouse doors, shutting them on the snarling and cowering pair.

Phantom, now within claws’ reach of Dewdrop, was a lot more contrite. “I’m sorry for teasing you so much. To be fair, it is a really cute nickname.”

Dew, after getting reprimanded by Mountain, was a little cooler-headed and he stalked his way towards Swiss’ room, Phantom following obediently behind, tail between his legs.

“It’s fine. Just…it’s personal.” They stopped in front of the Multi-Ghoul’s door and Swiss opened it, drawing his little firefly into his strong embrace. Phantom was left with half an explanation and padded to the common room, scooping up the rest of the pastries from this morning.

He knocked on Rain’s door and the Water Ghoul opened it, in a pair of sleep pants, a large yawn exposing his fangs. “Why didn’t you tell me that Dew’s nickname was such a touchy subject for him?” Phantom held out the remaining pastries as a peace offering and the Water Ghoul strode back into his room, tail flicking in acceptance.

Rain climbed up on his bed and broke the seal on the bag, offering one to the Quintessence Ghoul. “It’s just kinda funny to see Dew upset. He’s cute when he’s angry. At least at someone else. And you’re new blood. We had to haze you at least a little.”

Phantom made a little moue but took a bite of his pastry anyway. “I think that I learned my lesson, so, thanks for that.”

“At least you still have all of your limbs. And no cool new scars.”

“You think my scars are cool?”

“Yeah, of course, Bug. You’re just so easy to tease. It makes you even cuter.” Rain pressed his sugared lips to the side of Phantom’s mouth. “I’m sorry I sicked Dew-Dew on you.” They giggled conspiratorially at that.

#the band ghost #ghost band fic #dewdrop ghoul #mountain ghoul #rain ghoul #phantom ghoul #swiss ghoul #rain x mountain #rain is a petty biotch #dewdrop is sensitive #mountain is over everyone’s shit #silly little ask

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blackmetaltv · 10 months

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Kjetil-Vidar Haraldstad, better known as Frost, Turns 50yrs old today!

His impressive career in some of the most iconic Black Metal bands has cemented his place in the scene. From Satyricon and Gorgoroth to 1349, Zyklon-B, Gehenna, Ov Hell, and Keep Of Kalessin.

#Kjetil Vidar Haraldstad #frost drummer #black metal #blackmetaltv #black metal tv #satyricon #gorgoroth #1349 #zyklon b #gehenna #ov hell #keep of kalessin #extreme metal #black metal drummer

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theunderestimator-2 · 8 months

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Lou Reed performing at Copenhagen in September 1973, as captured by Jan Persson.

"For that 1973 world tour, Reed had put together a fantastic and very energic band they were all from Detroit and they all knew their business. The concept of the tour was to deliver «Berlin» to an eager public. As Reed had been musically brought up in the Warhol’s factory, he had become a master of manipulation and he knew how to bring the hysteria element within his crew. Very high on diverse drugs, Reed silently enjoyed it when all his staff, manager, musicians, roadies and friends, fussed around his person. Andy Warhol had found out the lights concept by himself: «What is needed» suggested the Pope of Pop» is to borrow the light effect conceived by Albert Speer» for what will later be known as the «Hitlerian ceremonies»: White light spots, (whiter than white) and with a tremendous intensity all focussed on Lou Reed on an immense black background. And that’s what they did. The Tour started on September 17 at the Paris Olympia, with eleven European dates to follow. On stage, Lou Reed was wearing black leather. His face was a livid mask and he had an Afro. In Amsterdam, the bootlegers stroke, and realeased a Pirate album called «RocknRoll Animal» That made him laugh and «now here is a title for me» will he declare. Every nights, his big black Mercedes will take him to different venues, and every nights, he’ll arrive at the last moment. And his Roadies had to practically carry him up on stage where he had to stagger to reach the mike. The tour was a colossal success thanks particularly to his guitarists who had found a way to «metallize» his repertoire. His band was driven by an tremendous rhythm section: the drummer Pentti Gian played ocasionally with Steppenwolf, and the bassist Prakash John, had just resigned from Funkadelic to be replaced by Bootsy Collins. The lead guitarist Dick Wagner, had debuted with Frost, a band used to the Grande Ballroom. And so that’s why Steve Hunter was the perfect counterpart: a veritable virtuose who loved to put danger in his technique. Hunter, had once belonged to Detroit (behind Mitch Ryder) and already in the old days he used to cover the Velvet Underground «RocknRoll» on a rather hard mode, and that’s been the option adopted from the beginning to the end of that mythic tour. Every night the two guitarists will have guitar duels in front of eager crowds. Lou Reed was taking all kind of drugs, and his roadies will confess: he took everything coming his way: coke, speed, weed, valium and Johnny Walker Black Label and the roadies had to hide bottles for him into the amps. Rock critics will put it that way: «It’s been like a black mass into a Gothic Cathedral with Heroin as a God». jltambo.wordpress.com

(via)

#lou reed #1973 #rock n roll #rock n roll animal #glam rock #live gig #people

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like-what-the-fuck-scoob · 1 year

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I miss Eddie so much :(

Could you do Eddie x reader where the reader is in a metal band and Eddie doesn't know until he finds them practicing one day and gets all lovestruck towards reader? Fluff please. I think they would bond over it lol <3 thank you !

So Fucking Metal (Eddie Munson x Drummer!Reader)

Summary - Eddie Munson x Reader. When Eddie stumbles across you playing drums in the music room, he can't help but be intrigued.

Word Count - 839

Content Warnings - None really? Eddie is a little cocky at times. Very very brief and vague mention of reader having insecurities.

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It was just another Thursday lunchtime as Eddie Munson strolled down the halls of Hawkins High, on his way to the music department.

It had become a regular ritual, for him and his band to get together and practice their songs a few times a week. In fact, for Eddie, it was one of the only things about school he actually enjoyed, one of few motivations he had to roll out of bed and jump into his van every morning. The soundproof walls and frosted glass of the music room provided an ideal, private space to rock out, and today was no exception. Skipping down the corridor, a pep in his step, the brunette anticipated business as usual; a delightful hour of rehearsal with his friends, temporarily switching off from the harsh reality of his studies as he absorbed himself in each strum of his guitar.

But today, he certainly didn't anticipate meeting you.

Abruptly spinning on his heels, Eddie stopped in his tracks as he walked past the practice room on the left, hearing what he recognised as drums being played, very impressively in fact. But they weren't just any drums, they were rock drums. And like a curious puppy, Eddie's wide eyes peeped through the glass, as he tried to identify the source of such a heavy, deep rhythm - a kindred spirit.

Meanwhile, you were certainly not blind to the presence that seemed to be lingering outside your session. At first, assuming it must have been a teacher on patrol, you carried on playing, watching and waiting for the shadow to pass by. But they never left. Whoever they were, this person was clearly listening in on your rehearsal, their form pressed against the clouded glass. Mid flow, you rolled your eyes, placing your drumsticks down with a huff, striding over to the door.

"Excuse me? Can I help y-" You paused, caught off guard as Eddie's eyes met your own. You knew Eddie. Well, you knew of Eddie, sometimes hearing his band practice as you worked on your sheet music in the adjoining classroom. He was talented, and you secretly looked forward to those days where you could tap your foot and nod your head along to his guitar, the thickness of just one wall between you.

"Ah, hi!" Eddie scratched the back of his head awkwardly, leaning his hand on the doorframe as you acknowledged him. "Sorry I um, I was just passing, but I thought you sounded great."

The compliment stunned you for a moment.

"O-Oh! Thank you, I uh, I've been practicing for my band." You explained, flicking your hair over your shoulder. It was an anxious quirk, one you'd picked up over years of insecurity, naturally plaguing you now as you struggled to digest Eddie's flattery.

"A band?" Eddie asked, his eyes wide with intrigue. How had he never met you before?

You nodded, reiterating yourself. "I play with my friends. We make metal music, like you."

He raised an eyebrow at your sentiment, his tall frame resting more comfortable now against the hard glass. "How do you know I make metal music sweetheart?" He asked with a cocky smirk.

God, he was charming.

With a nervous chuckle, you dismissed his question. "I'm sure everyone knows you, right? Corroded Coffin?"

Eddie didn't concur, instead giving a presumptuous, high pitched 'hmph' as he segwayed into his next line of thought.

"So, now that you've caught me in the act, can I come in and hear you play?" He bit his lip, eyeing your blushing cheeks with a bashful smile.

"I- yeah, I guess."

You swallowed nervously, trying to settle the lump in your throat, exhaling deeply as you followed Eddie back to your drums. Sure, you were used to playing in front of a crowd, but something about the curly haired guitarist gave you butterflies.

He took a seat on the piano stool at the far side of the room, and motioned towards you with a nod and a reassuring grin.

Clearing your throat, you picked up your drumsticks with shaky hands, and proceeded with your earlier piece, eyes glued to the white plastic of the drum for fear of faltering if you locked eyes with Eddie for even just a brief second.

As you played, the dungeon master watched you with admiration, his deep brown eyes sparkling with amazement as he concentrated on every single beat, edged forward in his seat. He found himself gazing over your delicate features, noting the way your tongue rested between your teeth in focus, and your hair bounced with every thump, ricocheting off your shoulders. He wasn't just enjoying your music, he was enjoying you.

As your rhythm came to a close, you turned apprehensively to Eddie, anxious for his reaction, whatever that may be. But he didn't cheer, he didn't scoff, he didn't mention your music at all. Instead, he asked a simple question.

"What's your name?"

Dazed, you responded with furrowed brows.

"Well, Y/N." Eddie stood, walking towards you. "You're so fucking metal."

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thefreakandthehair · 2 months

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Winter Fanworks Challenge, Part One [See Part Two Here!]

Reflection, by @skepsiss | four-part series with Steve, Eddie, Robin, and Nancy's POVs, teen & up, fic

do you hear what I hear? by @artaxlivs | steddie, teen & up, fic

frosting the snowman by @sourw0lfs | steddie, teen & up, fic

little drummer boy by @hellfireloserclub | steddie, general, fic

love my baby like the finest wine by @glorious-spoon | steddie, teen & up, fic

a snowfall kind of love by @hexiewrites | steddissy, explicit, fic

Dragon master, master of dragons by @kikidoesfanfic | jeff/chrissy, general, fic

this time of the year by @ariadnebf | ronance, teen & up, fic

burnin' for you by @hbyrde36 | steddie, explicit, fic

sunlight on fresh snow by @artbean | steddie, fanart

holding hands by @ahhrenata | steddie, fanart

put your Christmas sweater on, it's got to be done by @steddieasitgoes | steddie, teen & up, fic

stars as their witness by @pearynice | steddie, general, fic

all things end and all things change by @starryeyedjanai | steddie, explicit, fic

resolutions by @is-emily-real | nancy, chrissy, steve, & jonathan, general, fic

we are not making sense at all by @medusapelagia | steddie, general, fic

what's mine is yours (to leave or take) by @thefreakandthehair | steddie, mature, fic

why is your tongue stuck to this pole? by @henderdads | stobin, general, fic

every since I met you by paybacksawitch | stonathan, mature, fic

#spicysixwinterfanworkschallenge

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pleasantlyinsincere · 9 months

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May Pang, Sunday Mirror December 14, 1980

MY LOVE AFFAIR WITH LENNON - I didn't steal her man - by Tony Frost

John Lennon's secret love has talked for the first time about her "beautiful and tender" affair with the tragic superstar.

Chinese beauty May Pang has fought back the tears and said: "I still can't believe he is dead. Now he is gone, I feel a part of me has died too." Lennon turned to May after breaking up with his Japanese wife Yoko Ono in 1973. They spent eighteen 'Idyllic' months together - living in Los Angeles for six months, then setting up a love-nest on New York's fashionable East Side, before Lennon eventually went back to Yoko.

Only a few close friends knew of Lennon's romance with May, who was once secretary to him and Yoko. The affair was deliberately concealed from fans.

May, 30 but looking ten years younger, overcame her grief at last week's assassination of the ex-Beatle to give me an exclusive interview at her Manhattan apartment. "They were such magical times", she said. "Thank God, no one can take away my precious memories. I count myself as a very lucky woman to have shared some of John's most tender moments, his private thoughts and, most of all, his love. John brought me more happiness than I could hope to find in a lifetime with another man."

May originally worked for apple, the Beatles recording company. She became very close to Yoko and helped her in women's lib campaigns. "I don't want to say anything that might be hurtful to Yoko", she said. "She was always very kind to me. I didn't steal her man - they had broken up before John and I became lovers. I know she is deeply upset, and my heart goes out to her. But I have shed as many tears as Yoko."

Last Monday night, when Mark Chapman pumped five bullets into Lennon outside his New York home, May was at a friend's flat half a mile away. "We had the radio on," said May. "The disc jockey suddenly interrupted saying 'John Lennon has been shot'. At first I thought it was some kind of a sick joke. The initial news flash said that John was wounded. A few minutes later it was announced that he was at the hospital being operated on. I began shuddering and held my breath. I prayed that it wasn't true, but the third bulletin revealed the awful truth - John was dead. I screamed hysterically for several minutes. I stayed in bed for two days, sobbing and just thinking of John. I couldn't eat or sleep - my body was so numb from shock."

TOO UPSET

"The only thing I managed to do was pull a call through to Yoko. One of her aides answered the phone, saying she was too upset to talk to me. I can understand her feelings. Perhaps she cannot forgive me for loving John as much as her, and I feel I have no right to intrude into her sorrow. I left a message that I would gladly to anything to help her or their little boy Sean."

May's flat is a shrine to Lennon. Two pictures that she took of John - one showing him shirtless on a beach in California, the other relaxing with ex-Beatles drummer Ringo Starr - take pride of place. A note that Ringo slipped through the door of their New York home is pinned on the wall. "Dear John and May, Popped round to see you. Will call again." May has all of Lennon'd records but her most treasured possession is a doodle he produced.

"He was talking about finding peace and tranquility in his twilight years," she said. "He sketched for several minutes and handed me a drawing of himself as a little old man. 'That's how I'll look, when I'm 64,' he told me."

Lennon obsessed with assassination during the early Beatlemania years, later curbed his fear of death. "His great desire was to grow old gracefully," said May. "Some people fear old age, but John actually looked forward to it."

May, who was nicknamed 'Mother superior' by Lennon because she loved to organise things at his recording sessions, now works for Rod Stewart's record company. She cuddled two pet cats as she told of the gentle side of Lennon.

"When he read about callous acts of violence throughout the world, he would take it all so personally. 'Guns are for cowboys in the movies,' he said. John wanted desperately to be accepted at the level of the ordinary man. He always shunned bodyguards, to avoid attention being drawn to him."

WITTY VERSES

In a magazine interview shortly before his death Lennon said he had sometimes beat up his women. "He was never like that with me," said May. "He was a kind, caring and gentle companion. We would often stay up until dawn discussing music and the world's problems. Sometimes as we lay in bed he would recite poetry - nothing heavy just little witty, amusing verses - or sing to me. He was a real romantic and I don't believe he was capable of hurting a fly."

Lennon's fling with May ended after he bumped into Yoko backstage at an Elton John concert in New York.

She suggested he should improve his health by cutting down on alcohol, losing weight and stopping smoking. An appointment was made for him to visit a hypnotist who treated heavy smokers. Friends say that after his first session in the hypnotist's chair Lennon walked "almost spell-bound" back to Yoko's flat. From then the two were inseperable.

"When John went back to Yoko I knew it was finished between us forever, because he was a loyal and honorable person", said May. He was faithful during our time together and since he returned to Yoko there was never any question of him looking at another woman."

The last time May spoke to Lennon was three years ago ata party at Regine's nightclub in New York. "He was very careful in his choice of words because Yoko never left his side," said May. "I believe he could sense that I had never stopped loving him. I will love him forever. There will always be a corner of my heart reserved for John Lennon.

Lennon's affair was observed by Chris Charlesworth, then American editor of Melody Maker.

Chris, 33, said in London: "He was obviously infatuated with May. Yoko thought it would be a short-lived fling while John sowed his wild oats. I don't think he could ever get Yoko out of his mind. He used to ring her every few days just to hear her voice."

Chris said: "Dying so young was something that never entered John's head. 'When I'm 64, Yoko and I will be a doddery old couple living in a tiny cottage in Ireland,' he said. "Yoko envisaged them growing all their own vegetable and milking a couple of goats every day."

Lennon gave the reason why the fab four could never perform together again.

He told Chris: "If we got our act together it wouldn't be as good as the old days. We're rusty old men." The world will now never know if he meant it.

#going through articles from the first year (in this case days) after john's death is so fascinating #everybody staking out their claim. what narratives get set up what will later be changed....#May Pang #John Lennon

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ill-skillsgard · 11 months

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Hey beetle, anything new from Faust x Faith, it’s been a while since the last story about them?

Maybe Faust is for once a sweet lover, but still fuck and fill her to the hilt, maybe a little getting prego kink?

Hi! Holy MOLY it has been a long time since I've written any Faust x Faith. I have had quite the year, but don't get me wrong... The babies were never far from my mind. I cannot ever forget our beautiful Frosty man.

So, this is set a little over a year in the future in this universe. But I won't give too much away here!

Warning: 18+ Smut, violence, mature language, protected/unprotected sex, emotional reunions, murderous rage, mentions of alcohol consumption, angst, cheating and all the good nasty things this pairing is known for.

Summary: It's been over a year since Faith broke up with Faust and he's returned home from an extensive European tour to find out his ex-girlfriend has moved on. Will Faust be able to control himself and let them live, or will his darkness drive him to get rid of Faith's new boyfriend?

- Not based on Lords of Chaos. I use Faust!Valter’s likeness only as inspiration.

Read more Faust x Faith here [x]

"You feeling okay, Frost?"

The question went unanswered, and the four members of Grey Tomb turned toward the drummer. Faust hadn't been sleeping. He barely ate, and the only time he came alive was on stage behind his drum kit. Although the last few dates of the tour hadn't been his best performances.

"Your eyes are so dark that you don't even need to wear any paint," Freydis, the singer, pointed out. She was the leader of Grey Tomb, the band who had picked him up for a European tour after their original drummer went to prison. Faust had asked no questions and didn't care where they played so long as he was as far away from home as possible. An 18-date tour was long enough to keep him occupied throughout the summer, but it was winding down, and everything started reminding Faust of her again. Even the landscape, though much different from home, brought up bitter memories of Faith.

Nightmares plagued Faust when he closed his eyes—gut-wrenching visions of Faith having sex with the jock she knew from church, his old bandmates, and even Sven. He dreamt of flames and screams and Faith looking at him like he was ugly, like she couldn't believe she had ever loved him. Evenings spent in a dismal room with police trying to make him admit he had punched Bobby Esders' face into a crimson mash, teeth blistering out of shredded, bloody lips. In these nightmares, Faust was killing again, always chasing and killing and trying to convince Faith he was fine; he was only protecting her. But she turned away every time, unconvinced he possessed no virtue.

And so, he imagined the drum skins as the face he wanted to smash and broke sticks on the rim only to unsheath fresh ones from a quiver near his shin. He'd continue the brutal assault in time with a guttural bass line and dreadful shrieking.

Faust didn't want to think of violence, so he avoided sleep and the inevitable terrors waiting to resurface in his mind. He needed therapy, an intense cerebral scrub to get to the bottom of the urges that became restless at night. But he was in a foreign country with a job to do. Therapy would have to wait.

Freydis had taken on corpse paint duty and stood above Faust as he sat on the tour bus couch, face tilted up, her chest in the way. Her tongue poked out as she blotted the black, blue, and grey paint under Faust's eyes.

"I can't wait to head home after tonight, eh, Frost?" Freydis said.

"I'd rather be touring. Nothing to go home to. At least you have a family."

"And you don't?"

"Not really. Nobody I care to see."

"Damn, Frost. Are you always this gloomy? Or has tour really beaten you down that much?"

"I'm fine." He dismissed. "And when are you gonna stop calling me 'Frost?'"

"That's you, though. You're just Frost, okay? Get over it," said Freydis. "One more spot, and I think we're done. Hopefully, you don't sweat it off during the first song."

The singer put down the brush and squeezed Faust's shoulder, jostling him. "There. Looking gnarly, dude. Oh, and don't forget, there's gonna be an after-party at the place where Astral is staying. We're invited. So, you should definitely come. Last show. We gotta go out."

"We'll see," Faust said.

"You owe me."

"Okay, okay."

"Promise you'll come?"

"No."

"Faust! Please?"

"Fine, if it means that much to you."

"Okay, and don't just stand outside smoking either."

Faust grimaced. "You don't want me to have any fun."

For the sake of appearances, Faust went along for the ride after Grey Tomb's last show to meet up with some of the tour crew and members from the headlining bands. These were the kind of people to shake hands and connect with, but Faust took one look around the penthouse apartment and regretted coming. The people there having fun were too bright for him, and the only way to dim the light was to drink so much he could barely see.

Drinking heavily was a double-edged sword for Faust. On the one hand, he could bear to socialize and even cracked jokes with the people he'd been sharing a bus with for the last two months, but on the other, he was sick.

To erase the year of his life he had spent with Faith, Faust resorted to old behaviors and, much later, found himself in a room with Freydis on his lap. She had been dropping hints all tour, but Faust knew better than to tangle up a good thing. Now that he was shipping back home soon, and Freydis was staying in Denmark, there was no reason to avoid fucking her.

"Holy shit, Frost... Are you sure that condom's gonna fit?"

Faust ignored the comment and stretched the latex ring over his cock, pulling it down as far as it would go. He might have been wasted, but he wouldn't stick it in unprotected with a woman he barely knew.

"Damn, you're a big boy," Freydis said as she climbed over his thighs and lowered herself. Once the sex started, she gripped the back of his neck and pressed her forehead to his. Faust backed away, letting her ride him while he closed his eyes and bit his lip. All the momentum he had gathered while making out with Freydis slowly disappeared. He felt his hard-on deflating inside of her despite her rigorous bucking.

"Fuck," he grunted and grabbed her tits for a rush that never came.

Freydis giggled. "Are you really that drunk you can't get it up for me, Frosty?"

"Condom's slipping."

"You should just take it off. It's okay; I'm on the pill."

"I'll get there again. Just keep...ugh, keep going."

Faust scoffed at himself. Freydis wasn't stupid, and the limp cock inside of her worsened with the condom. She stopped and signed.

"Sorry... I can't do this. I'm fucking plastered."

It was only half a lie, and when Freydis made a case to keep trying, Faust lifted her off his lap, snapped off the condom, and staggered to the door while pulling his jeans over his ass. He turned around, black hair swinging in his face.

"Sorry, I guess. Hope we're all good," Faust muttered before he left.

Freydis sat on the bed, astounded at the limp condom he'd dropped next to the waste basket.

The journey home was torture and nausea. Faust had spent an hour puking in the airport bathroom and once again into a bag on the plane they had almost missed. His acidic insides emptied, Faust fell into a fitful sleep, interrupted every so often by flight attendants who quickly learned not to bother the man with the long black hair.

On home soil, he threw his bags into a taxi and was carted home, where he fell into bed for hours with an excruciating headache. He couldn't remember a time when he felt worse and told himself he was never going on tour with alcoholic Danish metalheads ever again.

~*~

Despite his long absence, Faith never changed her habits. This made locating her easier than he liked. Faust had hoped to walk by the café where she used to study over a latte and a bagel, only to never find her there. He had hoped her family had moved away, taking his ex-girlfriend too far to contact. But just like everything else in the city, it had all stayed the same. Faith still did the same things she always did: school, working part-time at the bookstore in the mall, and sitting down in front of the window at the café where they had gone countless times for snacks and coffee.

Faith was there now, across the street at the café, sitting outside on the small wrought iron table underneath an umbrella. She wore a light pink sundress with thin shoulder straps and her hair in two braids. Faust wanted to go over and sit down in front of her just to see her big eyes get wider or if she would fidget and stammer, blindsided by his sudden appearance. The sight of her, unaware he was across the street buying cigarettes at the corner store, soured his stomach.

Faust spent a minute preparing for what to say when he approached Faith, but his courage disappeared when a man took the seat across from her and reached out to hold her hand. It wasn't the Esders kid like he had feared. It was worse. He wore a black denim jacket, had long hair, and a face Faust automatically hated.

It was him. Faith was dating a knockoff version of himself.

Faust recognized the guy from around parties and shows. His name was Hunter. He was the kind of guy who bought unlicensed band patches online—the mark of a poser, in Faust's opinion. While the guy rubbed her wrist, Faust thought of one hundred ways to shatter his fingers. How dare he touch her like that, make her smile as he once had, and scoot closer to touch her inner thigh under the table. Faust grinned when she snapped her legs shut, and he snatched his hand away with what Faust assumed was an apology. Good. So she wasn't letting him get too handsy with her yet. Not like when they were together, and she would let him drag her away to any solitary place, so he could touch her between her legs and watch her melt.

But Hunter was not him, and Faith probably hadn't changed. If her libido was the same since they'd met, the chances were high she had already fucked him, and the thought of Hunter having sex with her blistered the inside of his chest. He wanted to grab him by his greasy hair and smash his face into the table so many times he became unrecognizable. The anger itched his palms, his back sweating.

Before Faust acted on his violent thoughts, he turned away and started home, swearing he would never seek Faith out again, though his heart seared from the pain of making himself such a promise.

It wasn't long before Faust saw her again in much closer proximity. One month after he had promised never to think about Faith again—a delusionally optimistic notion—she showed up at a party with Hunter and his buddies, who took various band formations between them. Faust had been in a crust punk band with one of them, failing to play lead guitar. It was a short-lived project, but he still recognized the group. He pretended not to notice Faith, hoping his nonchalance would strike her when she looked up from her phone and realized she had once again stepped into his realm, where she was the outcast, and everyone revered him. She likely heard some news about his tour with Grey Tomb since everyone else was asking him questions about the size of the gigs he had played overseas. In a small house full of a dozen musicians, their girlfriends, and buddies, Faust was the most successful one there, earning him instant popularity. On a regular day, Faust would shun the attention, but now, he craved to wield it; to show her what he had become in the year they'd been apart.

Faith whispered to her new boyfriend and never looked too long at Faust for the first hour. Faust turned it into a game. He looked at her until her eyes ping-ponged from him to a random object in the room, catching her each time she glanced in his direction. It was fun to watch her squirm and fidget. He knew what she was thinking: that being around him as though they were strangers was too heavy for her to act normal.

Two hours in, after Faust had left the room to keep her mind racing, he saw Faith whispering to her new boyfriend in the kitchen between chugs of beer. She was compensating now. Faith hated beer. He flashed the barest smirk as he passed by, never lifting his eyes but knowing her in his peripheral. Yet despite all these things he knew about her, there was a second or third voice in his head trying to calculate what exactly she could be thinking. Did she hate him? Was her night ruined? Was his presence shaking her to her core, or was she succeeding at brushing it off? She couldn't have changed that much in a year, and if she was the same girl he had fallen in love with, her inner dialogue was screaming. And as much as he wanted to catch a hint of their conversation, the music was too loud, and Faust longed to continue ignoring her.

After three hours, Faust was drunk, and the people talking in his ear made him cringe. He had gone around and around on a carousel of shifting emotions. At first, it was easy not to care, but then he saw her staring at him and wanted to stare back. As the drinks poured and it was clear nobody would address the awkward situation between them, Hunter put his arm around her, an innocent move that Faust regarded as a personal slight. How fucking dare he touch his Faith.

No, he told himself. Let her go. She's better off without you.

Then, a hand was on her thigh. Her skirts that once drove him wild now looked whorish. Did she want every man in the room looking at her? And again, Faust screamed internally at himself to leave her be.

But he couldn't, and deep down, they both knew it was only a matter of time before he snapped.

It happened when Faust, who considered his near-constant observation of them subtle, saw Hunter pull her face forward for a kiss. His heart leaped, and with it, his body instantly at attention, the half-drunk beer bottle now brown shards on the floor. Everyone stopped what they were doing. Hunter barely noticed over the music, but Faith had. She flinched as Faust approached like a train and snatched Hunter up by his jacket lapels.

"Who the fuck do you think you are kissing her in front of me?"

"Stop it right now, Faust. Don't be an idiot!" Faith yelled, butting her palm into his leather-clad shoulder. It only angered him further.

"Woah, man! What the fuck is your problem? You've been broken up forever," said Hunter, clutching at the fist pressing into his neck.

"Faust, dude, don't. Just relax."

Faith hammered Faust's shoulder again. "Let go of him, you prick! We're over!"

Faust immediately dropped Hunter and turned to her, angling down to meet her glower.

"What, I leave for one tour, and now you're with discount me? That's sad, Faith—"

One hard punch to the jaw sent Faust staggering backward, disoriented. Once he blinked away the lights in his eyes, Faith knew there was only one second to get between Faust and Hunter to prevent blood from spilling. Faust's friends had the same idea and held the drummer back, crowding between them to stop a fight.

Faust pointed at Hunter as he was carried away and said, "You better run. You better never let me see you again, or you're fucking dead. Run, motherfucker!"

Outside, Faust screamed. He howled on the sidewalk for Hunter to come out while lights from neighboring houses flicked on. His friends begged him to be quiet, but Faust was undone by his anger and echoing in every direction, ignoring those yelling at him to shut up. He attempted to break the barrier his friends made and hopped up excitedly when the door opened, hoping it was the man whose face he was about to demolish.

Faith stepped out alone, and Faust went quiet. She marched down the walkway, and they parted to allow her access to her flailing ex-boyfriend. She grabbed his arm, sank her nails into the leather, and yanked him away from the house. His friends stood by, muttering and confused. The two of them did not turn back.

~*~

"Sit down. We have to have a serious discussion, Faust. I mean it. Sit down on the bench and listen," said Faith. "You cannot act that way just because I moved on. It's not fair to me! I want to be happy, and you have no right to try ruining that."

Faust paced the length of the bench. "You're not fucking happy."

"Yes, I am!"

"No, you're not. You're pretending. You're a fucking fake. You don't hang around these kinds of people. You came tonight just to piss me off."

"I came here because Hunter and I were invited. I had no idea you'd be here. Otherwise, I definitely wouldn't have come."

"Fuck off, Faith."

"No, you fuck off! What're you gonna do, Faust? Kill him?"

Faust smothered her mouth with his hand and backed her under the tree's shadow away from the lamplight.

"Don't even fucking—don't say that."

Faith pushed him away. "I'm seriously asking. I have no idea what you might do, but I know what you're capable of, and it scares me. You have to promise me you won't hurt Hunter."

"No promise."

"If you can't let me be, I might have to do something drastic."

Faust scoffed. "Oh, yeah? Like what?"

"Like... File a restraining order," Faith said.

Her eyebrows pressed together, and though encased in shadow, Faust could not believe he was seeing her face again. He took a step closer, and she drew up against the tree.

"I can't have you around. If I see him touching you, I will lose my fucking mind, don't you understand? I love you, Faith. I'm afraid of myself when you're not with me."

"That's not my problem."

Faust had barely chipped at her. She crossed her arms, glare unrelenting. No matter how hard he drilled, Faith wouldn't soften for him.

"So that's it then? You're over me?" He asked.

Faith held up her hand and flashed a plain gold ring. "See this? He gave it to me. It's a promise ring."

"A promise to what? Marry you? You're gonna marry him, is that it?"

"Maybe!"

"That cheap little piece of shit ring means nothing, and you know it."

"It has meaning because I give it meaning."

"Okay then, let me ask you something, and be honest," Faust bent at the knees to match her level. "Do you still have the collar I gave you?"

Faith grimaced.

"Tell me the truth. Do you have it? Because that collar means you already belong to someone."

"No, it doesn't! I broke up with you!"

"You haven't gotten rid of it."

"What does it matter?"

"Faith, please," Faust whimpered. "Please, just... I'll never stop. I can't. I've fucking tried."

"Never stop what?"

"Being in love with you."

She dropped her fists to her sides, looking down at her shoes. Faust thought she looked ready to blow up, but instead, she sniffled and began to cry.

Faust cradled her jaw like thin glass balancing in his palms. To his relief, Faith didn't flinch away.

"Tell me you still love me." He whispered. "I know you do, baby."

She whimpered his name and fell into his embrace, sobs quaking through her shoulders. Faust propped her up in his arms and set her back on her feet. Despite her anguish, he fought a smile from spreading across his face. Soon, Faith's blubbering petered into chuckles, and she wiped her wet eyes.

"You really still love me, Faust?"

"Yes, baby! Fucking of course I do."

"Did you come back here because of me?"

"You're the only thing keeping me in this place."

"I... I really missed you, beetle."

Faust clamped her to his chest, stroking her soft hair, her warmth so familiar yet unearned. His eyes clouded as he looked down at the woman crying into his chest, stuck like a burr on his clothes. Her tears seeped through the fabric, and he loved it. The wet spots made his breath falter. A vast calmness silenced the screams in the back of his head, which reminded him of all the terrible he had done. With Faith by his side once more, he was determined to bury their voices and live as though his secrets were only false memories.

~*~

Faith and Faust had made a getaway from the party and went to Faust's basement apartment in a small complex. The place was new and smelled of fresh paint, and when Faith walked in and saw a mostly empty area, the juxtaposition made her head spin and her heart pound. There he was after all this time, a foot of space between his head and the ceiling, his black leather jacket on in front of white, unmarred walls. It was wrong, but watching him shedding his jacket and revealing how thick his arms looked from touring made it seem like they hadn't been apart more than a couple of weeks. It was natural, and she went to him, prepared to deal with the consequences of ditching her current boyfriend for this reunion of two warring energies who thrived only on each other.

He kissed her softly at first, pulled back to assess her expression, and went back in harder when met with a drowsy half-smile. His hand went up her skirt, tracing his fingertips over her panties until her knees shook.

Faith pulled away and said, "I wanna fuck you." Faust needed no convincing. He sat on the bed, dragged her onto his lap, facing away from him, and pulled off her top and bra. Before taking her breasts in his hands, he peeled off his Grey Tomb shirt and cupped them enthusiastically.

"Fuck, baby. Just... Fuck. I missed you so much."

"I missed you too," she said, craning her neck to catch his lips again.

She ground in circles on his lap until he was hard and moaning, her addiction to the sound of his voice afresh. Exhilarated by the thought of having sex with her first love again, Faith scrambled under the covers and waited, her smile slowly fading as Faust pulled a strip of three gold-foiled condoms from his wallet. She frowned as though he had revealed something nauseating.

"What the fuck is that look for?" Faust scoffed, tearing open the foil square.

"I... what is that? I don't want that...I want to feel you."

"That's too bad," he said.

Faith scoffed back at him. "I don't have any diseases."

"We've been away from each other for over a year. I don't know what you've done. If I'm fucking you, we're using a rubber."

"But—"

"Besides... You don't know where my cock's been either."

It was a bizarre sight watching him unravel the wet latex circle over his thick cock inch by inch. Faith had never heard of him using condoms before and hadn't used one with him even the first time.

Faust laid down and urged her to climb over him, and though she looked upset, she still swung her leg over his hips and stared down at the latex straining around his shaft.

"You fucked other girls?" She asked.

Faust grasped her thigh and pulled until she shimmied closer to his groin.

"Sit on it," Faust ignored her question. "Come on, baby. Ride it."

"Do we have to? I really wanted to feel you. All of you. Like how we used to fuck."

Faust rolled his eyes. "Don't be a brat, Faith. Or else."

"Or else what?"

"I'll put on two," Faust chuckled.

She swatted him, giggling. "Fine, if this is the only way you'll let me fuck you, I guess that'll have to do."

"That's right, get on it, baby. Easy, easy... Oh... Oh, fuck... Oh, fuck! Fuck, yes, beautiful. Never been so hard in my goddamn life. Fuck me, baby girl. That's it. Nice 'n slow. Good girl."

"Mmph. I forgot how big you are!"

"No, you fuckin' didn't. You remembered damn well how big my cock is. How I split this little pussy open."

Faith rocked herself back and forth with help from his hands on her hips. He screwed his eyes shut and bit his lip. Faith stared down at the man, lost in his pleasure, his mouth changing shapes every time she moved. He was right; Faith hadn't forgotten for a second what sex with him was like, or how beautiful he looked with his head thrown back in ecstasy, or the filthy things he said the moment he was inside. Faust knew it too.

"Did you think about me when you fucked him?" Faust asked, catching her in an awkward spot. Faith didn't expect him to bring up Hunter so soon, and certainly not during sex.

"I... I, um—"

"You can tell me the truth. Did he have a bigger cock than me?"

"N-no! I don't think anyone could. The condom is about to snap because of it. So, you might as well take it off and fuck me raw."

Faust flipped her over and drove himself inside her a few times, slow but hard. She squealed with each thrust.

"Condom stays on."

Faith had more tricks to try on him. "Then how are you supposed to cum inside of me?"

"Did you let him cum inside of you?"

"Faust!"

"I'm serious," he said, leaning down to talk against her cheek while ramming her pelvis and making her quiver. "Did he blow loads inside this pretty pussy? Did he make you shake and cry and cum all over his cock?"

"No, Faust," she whimpered. "I wouldn't let him."

"That's right. 'Cause it's still my pussy. He had his fun with you, but you're back where you belong now... All around my dick. Getting. Fucking. Stretched. Open."

"Make it hurt, baby."

Faust slammed his hips forward several times until she cried out, then eased back to a normal pace.

"You're mine. Fuck, you feel amazing. Pussy's so fucking tight around me. Shit, baby, I'm not gonna last."

Just as Faust approached a groaning orgasm, Faith's phone started ringing in her purse. She looked at the bag, then back at him.

"Is that him calling? Wondering where you are? He has no idea you're with me, does he?"

Faith chewed her lip and couldn't answer.

"I fucking knew it," he said proudly. "Go ahead. Answer the phone."

"What!? No! Faust, that's so mean."

"You're already cheating on him. Just answer the phone and pretend everything's normal."

"I can't."

"I'll take the condom off if you answer the phone while you fuck me. You can have this cock raw if you really want. Make me cum deep inside this perfect little pussy.

"Really?"

"Yes, babe. Go get the phone."

Faust let her up and dropped onto his back while she fished her phone out of her purse. She looked at the screen and scoffed.

"It's just a telemarketer."

"Aw, that's too bad."

"Can we still lose the condom?"

"No. I'm still wearing it."

"That's not fair! I was going to! That should count for something."

Faust stared at her perky nipples, soft curves, and sad face. He smirked something evil.

"What is it?" She asked.

"Call him. Call him and break up with him while you fuck me."

"No! That's so mean! I can't do that."

"Oh, but you can cheat on him perfectly fine?"

"You're not being fair."

Faust nodded at her, then at his groin. "Nothing's fair. Call him. But first, get your hand around my cock."

Just the sight of her fingers trying to fit around his condom-clad shaft made him seethe, and when she put the phone to her ear while slowly jerking him, his chest unfroze after months of being without her. He tried not to moan while she whispered to her fake boyfriend that she couldn't see him anymore. It just wouldn't work with Faust around. The motion of her left hand faltered as the guy's heart broke, and Faust eclipsed her and squeezed, encouraging her to yank off the condom in mid-sentence. Hunter asked, "So, what? Are you with him right now?" And Faust twitched from the blood surge, eyes rolling to the back of his sick head.

Faust got brave and started whispering, Faith scowling and mouthing at him to shut up.

"Yeah, stroke it, baby girl. No more condom. It's all fucking yours."

Faith held the phone away from her face and hissed at him to keep quiet again, wearing a bare hint of a smirk. His sick little girl. His corrupted angel. There she was, begging to come back to him.

He gripped her jaw and wrenched her forward, smothering her mouth and keeping her from answering Hunter's pleas.

"You're mine. Tell him," Faust whispered, licking her lips open to dip his thumb inside her mouth. Faith hummed remorsefully but sucked his thumb all the same, eyes going shiny as she stared into his beautiful green eyes. Whether she liked it or not, she had dreamed of this reunion. In sleep, she always found him with those murderous eyes staring at her like his next meal.

"Get on me."

Faith tossed her phone aside, thumb slipping and maybe not ending the call with Hunter. There was a pinch of guilt in her heart, and then it was gone. It was only him, the love of her life. She climbed over his lap, and his legs stirred beneath her, parting and spreading her thighs ever wider. Faust sank back into the pillows, squeezed her hips, and eased her onto his cock the only way he wanted. With a deep groan, he pulled her forward, rocked her back, and did it repeatedly until she caught the rhythm. Steady and slow.

"I fucking missed you, baby," Faust said.

Faith clung to him and rode desperately, breathing in his hair, kissing his lips, and hanging onto his broad shoulders for leverage. Their breath synced until Faust jutted his hips and struck a gasp from her.

"M-missed you too, beetle. God, I missed your cock."

Faust chuckled, dark and mischievous. "Oh, yeah? S'that all you missed about me, huh? You missed getting fucked hard?"

"I just missed you."

"Oh, I'm absolutely positive your pussy missed me."

Faith covered her mouth, but Faust grabbed her wrist and held it behind her back, bending his knees and bucking his hips upward at a frantic pace he could only sustain for short bursts. It was worth the effort to hear her groaning.

"Don't get all shy. You know I love it when you talk dirty to me."

"I don't know what to say."

"Tell me how you'd close your eyes when he fucked you and pretend it was me."

The scenario was pure fact. Faith had pictured Faust in Hunter's place nearly every day. But the shame overcame her, and she buried her face in his neck and muttered, "Don't make me say it, Faust. You know I did."

His arms encircled her, and he set off on a motion that brought him close to the brink of orgasm. Before he touched the edge, he pressed his forehead to hers and commanded her eyes.

"Rub your clit, baby girl. Do it for me. I want you to cum."

"Mm...Okay."

"That's right. Make it feel good and cum on me."

Faith tried to get close, holding her breath and concentrating on her task until Faust took over. He used two fingers to rub her clit, slowly at first, then quicker. He alternated until he found the right pace, and she moaned. With his cock ramming upward, his hand working its dexterity on her, and his other hand gripping and spanking her ass, Faust coaxed an orchestral orgasm from her that ended in gasping heaves and whimpers that tipped him over the edge too. Hearing her desperate mewls while she tightened around him was the only thing that could ever make him cum. No other woman came close. Even with his eyes shut and Faith on his mind, they simply weren't her.

Under a wash of afterglow, Faith lay on top of him and relaxed to the pulse in his chest and neck. The regrets were sure to come, but it didn't matter. Faust and the appetizing danger that came with him were back.

"I'm so bad," Faith said after a few minutes of deep breathing.

"Yeah... You really are. Cheating on your boyfriend and getting fucked raw... Taking all my fucking cum in your pussy. You're a nasty girl."

"Don't make it worse!"

"You made it what you wanted. You're the one who was all like, 'Please fuck my pussy raw, Faust. Ew, I hate condoms. I know you were gone for a year, but I don't care where that cock's been'!"

"You love me. I know you wouldn't do it if you weren't sure."

Faust played with her hair and chuckled.

"You're right."

"For the record... you're still the only man who's ever cum inside me."

"Damn fucking right. Now, it's quiet time. I'm spent."

"No round two?"

He rolled her over onto her side, pulled her close, and kissed her forehead. "In the morning. I need sleep."

"But—"

"Sleep, brat."

"Alright, fine."

"...I love you."

"I love you, too."