Hands belong toBrian Molko.

      Dry hands, with wide knuckles and nails that had black lacquer over them, strummed back and forth over the strings of the guitar. Up, down, up, down. The tune of  Foo Fighters Everlong, flowing out of the instrument. Brown green eyes followed the slowly moving hands, to the body connected. A smile came from the green eyed figure, at the familiar sight.

       Head bent, hair falling into unseen brown eyes. Shoulders hunched, left knee bent under the guitarist's body, interment laying over the other leg. All situated above the first's eye level, a top a bed with brown blankets. A low deep voice slowly came to life, flitting through the room, and tugging at the laying figure's heart.
 

                                     "Hello,  I've waited here for you...everlong...tonight I throw myself into..
                                      and out of the red, out of her head she sang..."
 

      The figure on the floor opened their mouth, singing the next part. Eyes still fixated to the person on the bed.
 

                                        "Come down, and waste away with me..Down with me...
                                         slow how you wanted it to be..... I'm over my head out
                                         of her head she sang..."
 

Both voices now came together, murmuring and coming forth to be one...
 

                                          "...and I wonder, when I sing along with you....."
 

  Eyes from behind hair meet green ones staring up at them.
 

                                           "...if everything could ever feel this real forever
                                           if anything could ever be this good again..."
 

The voice of the one holding the guitar faded after their eyes met. The person on the floor singing the rest, louder then before, eyes never leaving those of the other.
 

                                            "...the only thing I'll ever ask of you you've got to
                                            promise not to stop when I say when..... she sang"
 

        The figure on the bed, placed the guitar down, moving to the one on the floor. The music never halted, continuing just as real in their minds. Dry hands captured slimmer ones in their grip, pulling the laying figure up off the floor.

      Lips met, gently moving together, speaking silently and never making a sound...
 

                                           breathe out so I can breathe you in...hold you in
 

      The figures slowly walked backwards, moving closer to the mattress. Gentle hands roaming across backs and arms, exploring territory that was mutually given away to the other person.
 

                                              and now I know you've always been...out of
                                               your head...out of my head I sang
 

    Clothing was a shed barrier, and flesh met flesh, in the purest of ways.
 

                                               and I wonder, when I sing along with you
                                               if everything could ever feel this real forever,
                                               if anything could ever be this good again
 

       Tongues rolled softly together, breath intermingling, soft moans of love and pleasure floated quietly through the room.
 

                                               the only thing I'll ever ask of you, you've got to
                                               promise not to stop when I say when........she sang
 

        Bodies lay next to one another, hands entwined, heads pressed lightly together. Heart beats slowly coming down, and growing fainter, as sleep reached for both. Slim hands stroked dry callused ones, a murmur coming forth...
 

                                              "...and I wonder, when I sing along with you....
                                              if everything could ever feel this real forever...
                                              if anything could ever be this good again..."
 

                                             the only thing I'll ever ask of you you've got to
                                             promise not to stop when I say when
 
 

        Eyes fluttered closed, and to the green-eyed person, the image of firm hands strumming a guitar never left their mind....