Holland Road | Mumford & Sons Fan Fiction

Chapter 9

xChapter 9x

Monday, February 3, 2003

9:54 P.M.

Mumford Household, Marcus's Bedroom

Marcus-

Wow. You really are as handsome as I imagined, aren't you? All of the guys at my school seem sort of... Fake to me, if that makes sense. There's no genuinity to their personalities, and I think that somehow makes them less physically appealing, too.

You're so cool that I couldn't help but think to myself "If he's this attractive just through his writing, he must be attractive looking also, right?" Well I'm not entirely sure where the correlation is there, but whatever. It's what I thought, and I was right!

I dated a guy once who was good looking but was a complete idiot. I couldn't stand how ignorant he was, and it basically drove me insane. He eventually broke up with me for some girl who you would have thought was allergic to wearing clothes, but I don't care too much. For a while I was convinced all guys were that way, ignorant and idiotic. But then I got to know you.

I stop my reading and close my eyes, taking a deep breath. Butterflies rustle around in the put of my stomach and my heart is going double time. It's hard to calm myself down when Carey's words are so kind, unlike anything anyone has ever told me. With a stupid grin on my face, I continue reading.

I think this calls for something special, since you expressed interest in the last letter that you also want to meet me in person. How about this Saturday, the 9th? You mentioned you live in Shephards Bush, so why not meet at the Commons and go from there? I really hope I can see you then! :)

Yours Truly,

Carey

God damn. I rest my elbow on my desk table and rest my forehead in the palm of my hand. Of course I conveneantly did not notify Carey about my grounding or my church retreat.

I can't believe it; the one chance I get to meet this girl who might be interested in me, I can't. My city is crumbling down. I can't help but blame myself for this, though. If I hadn't snuck out of the house and gone to that concert I might not be in this mess. I feel like I just built a house of cards, carefully placing each card so the entire structure doesn't collapse in on itself. Then I accidently bumped over a nearby lot candle, sending the entire house in flames.

Opening up my bottom desk drawer, I dig through the clutter of old pens and junk until I finally grasp the photograph I had previously placed there. I hold it in front of my face and let my eyes focus on Carey laughing in the sunshine. My lips curl up at the edges as I imagine the sweet sound of her laughter...

Sound. Music. Song. Guitar.

I've always enjoyed song writing, but today is the first time that I've ever felt a raw need to write something. Grabbing a scrap piece of paper out of my bag, a pencil, and the old acoustic guitar out from under my bed, I go move over to my window.

I unlock the frame and grab the bottom, slowly lifting up the glass so it doesn't make any noise. My parents definitely would not by stoked to have me making noise in my room this late, so the roof is the next best place.

Once on the roof, I crack the window and carefully sit down, legs stretched out in front of me, guitar resting in my lap. The cool London air nips at my face and nose and hands, and cold hands isn't always the best for playing guitar. Cold hands means slow hands. But it is what it is.

After digging out the pick that I always keep in my pocket, I start messing around with chords testing which ones I like.

Playing a basic 4 chord pattern, lyrics start flowing through my head and out my mouth like a river. With every line I sing about Carey, my hand grabs my pencil and nearly burns a whole through the paper with the speed and urgency in my writing.

As I play the last chorus, I change the last line.

"... Destined for a life without the one I love."

My hand goes to write down the final words. As I finish writing the word love my mind all of a sudden catches up and processes what I'm actually doing.

My breath catches in my throat and I think I might choke. My grip loosens on the pencil in my hand and the wooden object goes clattering to the shingled roof. The hair stands up on the back of my neck as everything hits me at once.

"I'm in love with Carey Mulligan," I whisper into the darkness.

x x x x x

We're walking together, Carey and I, exploring the vast expanse of the countryside. As far as we can see there are rolling hills, no colors but the emerald grass and blue skies. As I take in the smell of fresh rainfall, a small cool hand slips into mine, fingers fitting perfectly between my own.

I see a small dandelion on the ground and stop to pick it up. I turn to Carey, her hand still in mine. I reach my hand up and tuck the hair behind her ear, letting my thumb drag across the soft skin of her cheek. Then I take the small yellow flower and tuck in behind her ear. She flashes her smile that could cure cancer up at me and a huge grin automatically pops right up on my face.

"This place is absolutely stunning," Carey says in a small sweet voice. "Thank you for taking me here."

I start, "Carey there is something I have to te-"

"I know what it is already," she tells me. "And I love you too."

She steps up on her tip toes and leans her face into mine, her arms reaching around my neck. I can feel her warm breath on my lips when--

My eyes fly open and I see nothing but darkness. It takes a couple moments to realize that I, unfortunately, was dreaming. With my mouth curving into a small smile at the memory, I close my eyes again and drift off into the land of slumber.

{A/N}

Fiction Marcus has lots of dreams because Nonfiction Marcus has lots of dreams. That make good song lyrics. I really like to think that part of a certain song came from a dream like this one. You know exactly what song I'm talking about, too!

And if you are wondering why I didn't include any lyrics, I know I can't do Marcus's lyrics justice by any means, and it would be sad if I tried.

Also, this whole "Mumford & Sons hiatus" thing is kind of a bummer. Not because I think they're never coming back ever, because they will, but because stalking their website to see when the next time they are playing near me is one of my favorite pastimes.

COMMENT LIKE FOLLOW PLZ

This was seriously my favorite chapter to write so far.

FAVORITE.