Faking It • Queen FanFiction

Cʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 66

"As soon as DCI Lind hung up on me, Holden knocked at the door. So I opened it and screamed something about him being a disappointment, then came here." Reliving everything, Bernie shuddered and put her mug down now that it wasn't endangered by Roger's fists anymore. "I just need to get out. I thought Rockfield would refresh me, but if anything it just made me more scared as I realised how great life could be like without him."

"Oh, Birdie," coming round the counter, Roger broke the distance between them and hugged her tightly, barely being able to imagine her struggle let alone live it. He pressed his lips to her head and held her, rubbing her hair with his thumb. She was still sat at the stool whilst he stood with her head to his heart. "It's okay. It's okay." He muttered, convincing himself as the cogs in his brian churned.

"No it's not okay. My only chance at that man being put behind bars and it's gone! I have to still live next to him and this time I might not be so lucky!" Of course, Roger had no idea about what Holden had done to Bernie all those weeks ago, but it was still so fresh in her mind, as if it happened yesterday. So much so that she could still recall his musty scent of stale cigarettes and the feeling of the dusty floor against her socked feet.

"This may sound berserk. But I have a spare room here, if you wanted to, you know..."

"Rog. Are you inviting me to crash here with you until I sort out a better place to live with Florence?

"Maybe. I could be."

"Well, if you were, I'd be saying how much I'd love to. And maybe you'd get a really good kiss as a thank you." The smallest of smirks tugged at her lips as she felt Roger's stomach tighten slightly.

"In that case I am one hundred percent inviting you to stay here with me for as long as you need." Even though she couldn't see his face, she didn't need to as she could hear the smile in his voice. And so, standing up, she took an adoring look into his crystal eyes and slipped her hand round the back of his neck. Tilting their heads, she drew hers closer and brushed the most soft kiss she could possibly muster over his expectant lips. Then they connected again, this time fully, but no less gently. The third time, she cupped his face in her hands and crashed her lips into his, moving one hand round to pull at his hair, earning a heavy groan from him.

This was the kind of urgency he was glad to feel from her. It had none of the desperate alarm she carried earlier, only deep anticipation and hope. A short while later, once Roger was suitably riled up, she broke off and they just gazed at one another, unsure of who should speak first.

"If you dossing in my house means I get more kisses like that, then I'm kicking myself for not asking you to live with me full-time." Roger smirked.

"Watch it, Taylor. Take me on a date first and then you might just get a few more like that," she whispered as seductively as she could physically make her voice, slinking out from his embrace and taking her mug to the sink.

"Everything's happening in the wrong order," Roger said sometime later, interrupting the film they were watching whilst huddled together on the sofa. After finding out that Bernie had literally ran the three miles to his house without stopping in less than twenty minutes, he demanded that they sat down to rest. Which obviously involved cuddling on the sofa.

"That's exactly what I was thinking. I actually wasn't paying the slightest bit of attention to this crappy film. First we kiss, then we share a bed, then I use your house as a temporary home. When are you going to ask me on a fucking date, Meddows?"

"Who told you my middle name was Meddows!" Horrorstricken, Roger bolted upright, startling Bernie.

"Urrr...you did. Like, months ago..." She just looked at him as if he was stupid.

"Oh."

"Yeah, Oh. Anyway, yeah, girls want dates! Ask me out!" They settled back into the comfort cushions and one another's bodies, laughing at how bumpy their relationship had been. Not that it was a 'relationship' yet. Bernie hated formal proposals about things like that, but she didn't feel like she was in a place to call Roger her boyfriend. As nice as it sounded in her head, she feared saying the words out loud until more structural steps had been taken. She'd had enough disturbance in her life to be worrying about the whereabouts of a relationship to top it all off.

"Okay. Birdie, Birdie Maxwell, will you go on a date with me?" His voice sounded flyaway, like he was talking from a cloud.

"Twat. I think I just threw up in my mouth a little bit. And as funny as it would be to watch you have dinner by yourself, I'd love to accompany you on a date." They gazed at one another with mutually loving humour before she burrowed her head in the crook of his neck and wrapped her arms around his torso. One of his arms was tiredly slung around her shoulders, the other over her legs, strumming his fingers on her upper calf.

They stayed there until the end credits rolled and Bernie realised that Flo had been done with work for almost an hour and was probably wondering where her sister was.

15/4/23