Those three little words (a Maylor fanfiction)

Part 78

Brian's POV
There was a loud knock on the door and I quickly got up to answer it, "who is it?" I called through the door and pulled my dressing gown tighter around me when I heard the answer, "it's Roger, let me in. I have stuff I have to get" he called back and I opened the door a crack to see him stood in the doorway with a nervous expression on his face.

I stepped out of the way and let him in silently and as he shuffled past, "um, I'll be quick. I'm sure you'll have to get ready soon" he mumbled and I nodded, feeling my eyes start to sting with tears. "It's okay, don't rush lo-uh, Rog" I said and he looked back at me when I almost called him 'love', it was damn close.

He flitted about the room and collected up a few things before he made his way up the stairs with a bag to get his clothes from the wardrobe and the only picture he brought of his family on the bedside table. I wished he wouldn't take it for some weird reason, it was slightly comforting I guess, but it was his and he could do whatever he liked with it.

Footsteps came down the stairs and soon I saw a teary-eyed blonde in front of me as both of us were desperately trying to keep it together. He cleared his throat and looked up at me with everything in his arms, "I'll see you on Monday, mate. Have a good night and get some rest" he said then made his way to the front door and gently shut it behind him.

And he was gone. Everything of his was gone.

It's funny how you think you can live without something (or someone in my case) but when you actually get rid of it, you notice how much you need it. I mean, in one night I've realised how much I miss having a 'cuddle buddy' snuggled into me, how much I miss waking up at 4AM to find a certain someone making a bacon sandwich because he's hungry and the one thing I've never noticed before now.

I miss him more than words can even start to explain.

I miss hearing him sweet talk me when he's slightly drunk, I miss his chirpiness at 11 at night and his adorable drowsiness in the morning, I miss being able to kiss his fluffy head and have as many cuddles as a man desires, I miss his awful jokes, I miss his awful egg and dipping soldiers (bread), I miss how he would just get lost in something and never come out of a trance on it. I just miss everything.

And only now do I notice it...

I trampled up the stairs in my slightly-depressed state and went into the bedroom to see he'd made the bed for me and even left the wardrobe door closed so it didn't freak me out. My tears weren't holding any more and I let them flow freely down my cheeks as I checked inside and noticed he left two items of clothing.

The New Years jumper and his little love heart socks.

I cooed at them both and gently took the jumper off of its hanger and pressed it to my chest. It smelled like him, cigarettes and lavender, and it only made me sob harder at the realisation of what I'd done. I'd screwed everything up because he needed a bit of tender loving care and I was too selfish to put up with it, however long I would have had to.

"You're so selfish, Brian...why? Why did you wreck this like you do everything else?" I cried and flopped onto the bed with the jumper still pressed to my chest, "why do you have to be so selfish?" I choked out between sobs and held the duvet in my hand to act as a sort of anchor to reality.

I led there and let everything out, screaming at myself and crying in shame of what I'd put Roger through. "I'm so sorry Rog, I'm so, so sorry" I whimpered and buried my head in the sheets next to the pillow on his side of the bed which I wouldn't dare touch because I didn't want to ruin the memories attached to it.

It was getting late and we had a very early start in the morning, five o'clock to be on a bus heading for Stafford with almost a three hour drive until we got there and we had sound checks and run-throughs all through the day and only an hour to get out and freshen up before we were due on stage. Brilliant.