𝐜𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐨𝐧 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥, roger taylor

𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲 𝐢𝐭'𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 (𝟏)

You laid in your bed, drifting off into sleep. There was the tap tap of rain on your window, and the soft breeze.

Your room was cozy, just like the rest of your apartment. There was a candle lit, and it just set the mood even more. You were finally going to sleep after a tiring day at work.

But then, there was a knock on the door. Your eyes opened up tiredly, and you looked over at your clock, the red numbers glowing in the darkness.

2:07 AM

You groaned in annoyance. Who could be at the door at this time?

You sat up in bed, and rubbed your eyes. Now it would be at least another hour before you fell asleep. After getting the door of course.

You stood up and started walking toward the door of your apartment, a yawn escaping your lips while doing so.

And in between the tap tap of the rain, you could hear music. Coming from outside your apartment.

And when you heard that song, you froze. Right in the spot.

You let out a shaky breath and walked toward the door. Now you stood directly in front of it, your shaking hand was about to unlock the it.

You then opened the door, and the sight in front of you made your whole body shake.

There he stood, holding a radio that was playing Baby It's You by The Beatles, drunk and his blond hair a mess. Tears spilled from his eyes.

"Y/n," Roger shakily breathed out, gripping onto the yellow, flower covered radio. You wondered where he had gotten it from. Rain dripped from his clothes, his damp bangs were covering his eyes.

"I'm sorry. I'm so, so fucking sorry." Roger said, wiping tears away from his face. He started sobbing.

You stood there, frozen. You didn't know what to say.

"Roger, I - what are you doing here?" You asked him, your eyebrows furrowed. It did sound harsh, but it was two in the morning and he was drunk. Not to mention he was your ex-boyfriend and things didn't end up pretty last time you had seen him.

Roger looked at you, pain washed over him, he started sobbing even more.

"I'm sorry. Can I ... can I come in?" Roger asked you, tears still spilled from his eyes. You sighed and looked down at the yellow, flower covered radio. You looked up at Roger again.

"Of course." You told him, moving to the side so he could enter. He stepped in, now Baby It's You filled up your apartment. You closed the door, you and Roger walked to your mustard yellow couch, and sat down.

Roger sighed. "I'm sorry. I know it's two in the morning, and I know you were just about to fall asleep." Roger said, and you couldn't believe he still remembered. He still remembered that until these hours sleep would finally get the best of you.

Rogers head was about to fall down, his whole body was. "I'm sorry, Y/n. For everything." Roger slurs, letting out another sob. "I still love you. I have always loved you. And I always will." Roger continued to slur, and then, with that, he crashed onto your lap. He passed out.

You stared down at him, his messy, damp hair was sprawled against your lap, his chest was rising and falling slowly. His upper body was on the couch and then his lower body was dangling off the couch, he was too tall for it he always said.

With a shaky hand, you ran your fingers through his hair, and then stopped. It all felt surreal. It all felt wrong.

Your mind went racing back to the night you and Roger had met. Your head rested on the backrest of the couch, and you looked up at the ceiling. Your hand was still placed on top of Roger's head.