CAPTURED BEAUTY (Peter Steele x Reader)

ELEVEN: On The Road

"You captured the band perfectly,'' chirps Mickey Renault, the band's manager, "We've decided to go a different direction with the album cover. However, we will be using your photos for the promo shoots.''

"Really? That's amazing! I feel very honored.'' You beam and a chuckle from Mickey can be heard.

"You should. Your payment should be on your way in the next couple weeks. It would be sooner but with the schedule for tour dates finally coming in and event schedules, there's a bit of a delay.'' explains Renault and you nod.

"Not a problem, Mick. What's the details look like?''  You bite your lip in anticipation for the answer.

"Things are due to change depending but it looks like the tour will last about about 5 months, give or take. They're headed off overseas to play two shows but that's all I can really disclose at the moment.''

"Totally understandable,'' you hum and sit down on your couch,"Thanks again. I'm very happy to have helped.''

After a brief exchange of farewells, you hang up the phone with a sigh. You didn't feel very happy. Your eyes trail around your apartment. The wooden clock across from you ticks softly making the seconds feel like eons. There's an uneasiness settling in your chest as if a shift in the air makes your throat tighten.

Your sights then set on the tool box that belonged to Peter.

It pulls the corners of your lips but it doesn't last very long. It makes you chuckle in some sort of joke. Some couples left their toothbrushes at each other's homes but your beloved boyfriend left his toolbox.

His meticulously organized toolbox.

There were still a few things to be fixed around the apartment. A whistling swirls through the vents every so often and a mysterious chill greets you at night. You've come to believe the draft scoops from below and there is a faulty vent somewhere. The water. which is incredibly hard on the skin, is pushing you toward buying a water softener. Yet the paranoia of running into Elizabeth crawls up your spine.

A soft knock can be heard at your front door. Your heart drops as you pick yourself up to see who it could be. A momentary glance through the peephole reveals Peter and you open it up.

His soft gaze sets on you and you can feel a little smile curve your lips. This time, it's genuine. You motion him inside and he ducks through the doorway and kisses your forehead.

"Sorry for stoppin' in late, I just wanted to come by and tell you I took care of everything.''

He says it with a small huff. You can tell he's tense by how he rubs his forehead and rocks on his heels. Peter sits himself down on your couch and a grumble escapes him.

"You did?'' you ask curiously, "What did you do?"

Peter doesn't answer right away. He looks at you from his folded hands and his brows flick upwards. He sighs.

"Well, I just did a little stop and had a chat. Nothin' really else to talk about.''

You study the obviously overwrought man sinking into your couch. His eyes are heavy with something else but he doesn't dare tell you. There's always something bubbling beneath the surface and had you popped any bubbles, surely something else would erupt.

The clock ticks as you sit down beside him and don't speak.

"I can't help but blame myself for all of this, Y/n. You really didn't deserve any of that.''

"Don't blame yourself, please. Listen, it's all in the past now. If you took care of it then I trust that you did so.''

His large frame rises and falls with slowly taking in air and letting it out. Doubt floods his gaze; a shimmer catches from the warm lamp light. Peter does a quick sniffle and clears his throat. It was obvious he was pretty emotional and about to cry. You slowly rest a hand on his broad shoulder and kiss his cheek.