PRETTY LOVER BOY - ROGER TAYLOR

XXIII.

♛ ♛ ♛

"Sweetheart, wake up." I startle awake, met by two translucent blue eyes that make my heart drop. Slowly, I sit up.

"Why're you on the couch?" Roger asks, reaching out to place his hand against my face, running his thumb over my cheek. "Have you been crying?"

I push his hand away and he furrows his brows, but he doesn't speak, he just waits for me to explain. Tentatively, I fold a leg under me, letting the other hang over the edge of the couch, brushing against Roger kneeling in front of me. I stare at him for a while, until he begins to get restless.

"What's wrong?" He places his hand on my knee and I again push it off. "Why won't you let me touch you?What happened?"

"Roger," I muster up enough strength to both speak and keep myself in check, "I need you to leave."

His face immediately drops, his eyes widening in that confused expression he's worn many times before. He pushes off the ground, standing to his full height, looking down at me.

"Clementine?" He looks almost worried, and there's a pang in my chest.

"Please, it would be better if you left." I go to stand, but Roger steps in the way.

"I'm not going to leave, just tell me what's wrong, we can talk about it," he goes to try and touch me again and I jump up, jerking away from him.

"I can't Roger, not right now," I move around the coffee table.

"Why not?" His voice is sterner now, and I can tell he's getting upset.

"I've asked nicely multiple times and I'm starting to get to that point," I lean down, scooping up the jean jacket I had left by the door before I move by the record player.

"Why can't you just tell me?" He's raised his voice now, and I'm nearing my edge as well.

"I don't want this to be a scream match, Roger, please." I'm begging him now, trying with everything in me not to lose my temper.

"It doesn't have to be, you're making it one!" He shouts. I hurl the jacket at him and it hits his chest before falling into his hands.

"Get the fuck out of my house." Shit.

"Clementine Landers, you better tell me what the hell is going on."

"Why do you do that?"

"Do what?"

"Treat me like a child!"

"Because you're fucking acting like one!"

"You know what," I unclip the necklace from around my neck in one swift motion, tossing it hard at him. He just barely catches it, mouth dropping open.

"Ok, I'll leave." His whole demeanor softens suddenly and it catches me off guard, but I refuse to back off of the anger boiling in my chest. I glare at him as he sets the chain down on the coffee table, going to leave the jacket as well.

"No." I can tell it startles him a little. "Take it with you. I don't want to see it again."

He looks at me for a moment, a moment that seems to last forever, before he finally leaves, shutting the door behind him. There's a moment where everything in me wants to cry out for him, where every muscle in my body aches for me to run after him, but I stay still, glued to the floor as I stare at the door.