Song - Shiny, Happy People - REM
AN: I don't really like this chapter, the end may be slightly cheesy so I apologise for that. But I can confirm the next few chapters will be very dramatic because a certain character may be re-entering the story. Thanks for reading
MayRogers_ xx
Roger's PoV
The London heat made it near impossible to sleep. I had been back in the city for less than twenty four hours, having only earlier in the day made the agonisingly long car journey with Lola and Victoria to the country's capital, and already I was tiring of the sprawling metropolis after the peace and serenity of Victoria's countryside cottage. There, one had been able to sleep in relative quiet; here, the sounds of the street below threatened any chance of meaningful sleep. I had liked that about the city when I had first rashly purchased this inner-city bachelor pad; as an insomniac, it had been somewhat comforting to know that around me, as I wasted away my evening with a multitude of sins, the city too was wide awake and bustling with life. Now, as I thought about my daughter tucked up in the next room, who's peaceful sleep may soon be interupted by the ever-present police sirens racing down the street, and who would also wake me up at dawn, I realised that I had picked quite possibly the worst location to buy a flat.
I turned over in my bed miserably, the satin sheets and memory-foam matress no longer the source of comfort they had once been. I should have been exhausted, falling asleep the moment my tired head hit the pillow; I had driven over eight hours with an extremely hyper child in the backseat of the car demanding we play eye-spy for the entirety of the long journey, but I had never felt more awake.
Part of it was her. Victoria. Just knowing that she was here, finally here, with me, at the flat I had purchased and envisaged us living in together three years ago. Knowing thaat I had a week to convince her that this was where she and Lola belonged. Knowing that so much rided upon my behaviour in that week.
But it was more than that. It physically pained me that she was so close to me, sheltered behind the door across the hallway from mine, and yet I couldn't go to her. She was in reaching distance, almost close enough to pull into my arms and tightly hold as we fell into a deep, blissful sleep. But I couldn't. Because, mentally, she wasn't there yet. She wasn't in a place where she could trust me, where she could love me again; that much I had determined from our conversation the night before we left for London. The way she shied away from my touch, and begged me not to speak about my feelings towards her whilst her bright blue eyes pleaded for me to speak those forbidden words, had almost broken me inside. They hurt almost as much as the words dying to burst out of my soul. I didn't care whether she wanted me or not; I just wanted her to know that if she ever did, if she ever found it in her heart to forgive me for all that I had put her through those many years ago, I would be waiting, ready to recieve her affection with open arms. I just wanted her to know that door would never be closed, at least, not for me. I loved her so much more than I would ever be able to love anyone else; she was the one. The only one. But I didn't want to scare her away. She had only just come back.
I was distracted from my thoughts by the sound of a door softly opening and closing in the hallway. From the foootsteps, I could tell it was Victoria, not Lola, who was up and wandering about the apartment. Victoria often suffered from insomnia, like myself, especially when she stayed in new places; part of the reason we were able to conceal our relationship so easily during Queen's first tour is that we were able to spend quality time together whilst the rest of the world slept, including my oblivious bandmates.
I debated pretending that I hadn't heard her get up, just allowing her some peace and quiet to explore the house, but I found my feet dragging me out of bed and wondering in the direction she had fled. I quickly pulled on a fleecy dressing gown to cover my near naked figure, running a nervous hand through my messy locks. The moment my head touched the pillow, my hair wold stand up on end, untameable. I couldn't be arsed wasting time styling it as I went in search of Victoria; she had seen me look so much worse, and had still loved me for it.
