Faking It • Queen FanFiction

Cʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 56

Back upstairs, Bernie went to grab a pad from her drawer as she didn't want to store them in the upstairs bathroom in a house full of men. Perhaps not-so-coincidentally, Roger burst through the door shortly after, slamming it forcefully behind him and pretending to be fiddling around with something in his suitcase. But she could tell from a mile off that he'd followed her upstairs with no intention but to talk to her.

"You don't fool me," she said in a bored, monotone voice, not even looking at him. "I don't want to talk to you."

"Birdie, please-"

"Don't call me that," she turned to him and snapped harshly, staring into his eyes with malice.

"Seriously, I'm sorry, how do you expect me to apologise when you won't let me?" Roger's voice was picking up irritated bluntness as she wouldn't let him get a word in edgeways.

"Use your ears, Roger. I. Don't. Want. To. Talk. To. You," she said each word slowly as if he didn't understand the language she was speaking. Her patronising tone got his back up more, despite his efforts to remain patient. He realised his rudeness and now he was coming to apologise, but she wasn't having any of it. This he partially understood after a firm talking to from Freddie, but what annoyed Roger was how Bernie was treating him like they weren't friends at all - rejecting his nickname for her - as if he was... Holden. But Roger was so much more that rat and understood the mistake he'd made.

"Use yours. I'm sorry for being rude, I was out of line and I get it now but don't treat me like I'm something nasty on the bottom of your fucking shoe."

"Oh, like you did to me?" Pads abandoned, her voice had risen slightly and so did Roger's to match.

"Did I not come in here to apologise, admitting what I'd done wrong? Is that not enough for you?" He threw his arms up, the double bed between them as their bickering quickly evolved.

Admittedly, he had a point but she wasn't going to give up anytime soon, mainly out of principle. "God, your head really is empty." She snarled, suppressing a smile, crossing her arms and shifting her weight to one hip. As bad as the timing was, Roger couldn't help but think that Bernie looked sexy like that: angry with a matching stance and staring at him with eyes full of such intensity... She paused. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"...Just wondering how people like you are allowed to vote," he shook his head, snapping himself out of the trance he'd put himself in momentarily. It seemed his temper was waning too and by this point they were just winding each other up for the fun of it. Stepping round the side of the bed, she stood in front of him and stared deep into his ocean eyes with nothing in hers but rage. But behind her eyes, for the first time in months, was lust.

"What the fuck does that mean? Are you saying women shouldn't be entitled to vote? You're really on a roll today aren't yo-" but before she could say anything else, Roger had her against the wall, hands on either side of her head.

"Don't you dare put words into my mouth like that, you're the smartest person I know, Birdie." There was something about the heat of the 'argument' and the dark look in Roger's eyes that gave Bernie an exhilarated feeling. She wasn't scared by being held against the wall, not by any stretch, more... impatient. The atmosphere had changed entirely, the rage had shrivelled but the tension remained.

"You're just a dick," she breathed huffily, a full smile lighting her face now, not knowing what was coming next.

"Fuck you. Or me..." Roger's face of pure wrath turned into a smirk of false-fury and he crashed his lips onto hers vigorously, laughing into her mouth. Without further hesitation, she sunk her hands into his hair excitedly and tugged on it, making Roger groan immediately whilst he held her against the wall using the full force of his body. He was never not amazed at how she could turn him on so quickly, like she just knew where to find the switch.

"I hate you," she smirked into his mouth, enjoying every second of the way he gave her the confidence to let loose. An argument had never been fuelled by sexual tension before and Bernie was keen to let it continue, but not too far. Reaching out, Roger went to put his hands to her backside, but she cowered back, wriggling sideways away from his hold as soon as she felt his touch. "No." Was all she said to him, a new sense of vulnerability in her eyes.

"I'm sorry, where does it hurt?" Roger asked, taking a step closer, but she stepped back, recovering the distance between them. "What's up?" There was no cheekiness left in Roger's voice, nor his face.

"It doesn't - hurt," she stuttered, trying to find the words. "Just... don't touch me there, okay?"

"I won't, I promise, but why?" This time, Bernie stepped towards him and wrapped her arms around his body, nestling her head against his chest as he hugged her back, one hand on her head and the other on her back. Picking up that there was something deeper going on here, he rubbed her hair with his thumb, feeling the force of her beating heart against his chest. "It's alright..." he muttered softly, kissing the top of her head.

Bernie was sick of this. She was sick of the excitement, only to be put down again by her own brain that couldn't recover from her past. The invisible wounds still stung from where Holden had touched her, his foul fingerprints never quite leaving her body. Now she'd got all daring and heated with Roger, who she was coming to really like, but her confidence still cracked and she couldn't stop her child-like vulnerability from seeping through those cracks. The result was this, splaying herself into Roger's arms, wanting to enjoy romance but being tied back by a force only visible to her.

Maybe it was the rate which things were happening, it had gone from nought to a hundred in a snap of the fingers. Therefore, her mind couldn't keep up with the change and freaked out, not quite trusting Roger's unknown touch. Not yet. She loved the way his lips felt on hers, the feeling of his soft hair - running her hands through it - and his irresistible smirk, but she couldn't just jump from nothing to everything like Roger could. And there was no way she could tell him about any of this without explaining her past, but talking about it to him made her want to run away screaming.

Taking a deep breath, she realised she couldn't run forever and if this thing with Roger wasn't just a one-shot, then she'd have to communicate with him effectively. "Roger?" She started as he just held her, not wanting to let go until she was happy again.

"Mhm?"

"Can I tell you something?"

15/3/23