Fuck This Shit

The Beginning I Guess

TW - USE OF SMOKING CIGARETTES 

Also this is how I picture Roger in this. Including his outfit.
He is younger in this but that doesn't matter.

You consider your life as a 'unique mess'

But to everyone else, they'd say it's a complete fuck up.

Your sat on the end of your bed whislt the salt lamp in the corner of your room leaves a reddish tint in the air.
A record is playing from your desk which is opposite to you on your left. It's not too loud or not to quite.
Your window is open slightly, and so are your blinds allowing you to watch the night sky.
There's crystals placed all around your room alongside geods and all sorts of things.
You have records on the floor, on your desk and on your bed.
Your keyboard standing lifelessly on your left made you want to play it.
Your walls covered in posters and pictures of your favourite artists which you've collected over the years
You had crystal necklaces and hippie style bracelets hanging from the legs of your bed on each side.

Your room is cozy but not the tidiest.
You love everything in it; it wouldn't be there if you didn't.

You were sat opposite your best friend.
You've know each other for years and couldn't imagine life without him.
His name is Roger.
Roger Taylor.
He had blonde hair and blue eyes. Typical fuck boy look but he wasn't like that.
He only had eyes for you but as a friend because you were all he really had.
You couldn't picture yourself a couple.
Well you could but it felt off.

You both were smoking, like you normally would and chatting away like usual.
You never brought boys over and as your mum was familiar with the fact that you were only friends, she allowed you to keep your door closed (not that you wouldn't anyway)

'Show me your braclett.' He asked propping himself up a little.
You thrusted your arm forward so he could look.
He held your wrist and analysed it.
It was a small thing, looked handmade.
You adored it though as it had a hand performing the rock gesture and was tied between a plated piece of material.
'Nice. Where did you get it?'
'Brighton piere. I got three for six quid. Not bad hey.'
'I guess not.' He said letting go of your wrist.
You sat back remaning eye contact.

You seemed to open up a lot to each other at night.
You couldn't quite work out whether it was the peace that lingured in the air or just how you were so close nothing wasn't ever said.
So you took this as an opportunity to speak.

'I'm gonna be real with you for a moment here.'
'What so you weren't before?'
'Yes obviously but that's not the point.'
'Go on then.'
He said laughing.
'No I'm being serious.'
You said rasing your eyebrows.
'No I know you are.'
He continues to laugh.
'Roger. Please. Stop laughing.'
'Sorry. Sorry.'
He says trying to swallow his laughter.
'Right go on now love.'
You looked at him causing him to laugh again.
'You've fucked it now.'
You said chuckling.
'No no go on I'll stop.'

It was difficult for you both now to not laugh.
So you did it anyway.
His laugh was adorable.
The cutest pitch and his smile made it all better.
'Right. You've finished?'
You said seriously.
'Yes. Yes. Go on.'
'Right. It's kind of hard to say now. Umm. I would actually date you.'
'Huh?'
He says laughing again pulling his jumper over his mouth and nose.
'Like I would. Your. Your like...'
'I'm like what?'
He chuckles.
'Perfect I guess.'
He bursts out laughing leaving you in disbelief.
'Love I'm being serious.'
'I know, It's just funny.'
You rolled your eyes at him.
He sat back again and calmed down.
'Don't you think it would ruin our friendship though?'
'Yeah probably. Can't risk it.'
'I don't want to even try.'
You smile at each other but you break the moment so you don't have an awkward moment.
'Another record?' You ask getting up avoiding eye contact.
He snaps out from staring at you.
'Yeah sure. Play an oldies one. I like those.'
'If you insist.'

You place a Glenn Miller record on dancing your way back to your bed.
He chuckles staring at you again.

You watched him analyse your room.
He did this all the time acting like he had never seen it before.
You didn't know whether he just wanted to avoid eye contact with you or if he was actually interested in the opacity of your room.
But it soon caused you to do the same.

You spent most of your days in your room. Well most nights.
He'd stay the night usually.
Mainly because you hated the thought of him alone in the middle of the night with the anxiety that he won't return home.
But he never seemed to mind.

You were to busy analysing your room that you hadn't realised he had stopped and began to stare at you.
It caught your attention for a moment but he changed the subject quickly.
'Bed?'
'Yh. Where are you sleeping?'
You got up and stood to his side of where he was laying.
'Who said I was staying.'
You stopped to look at him.
'I did.'
He rolled his eyes at you then said.
'If you insit. I'll sleep on the floor.'
'No. You can stay in my bed. It's cold so the warmth of another human would be nice.'
He stared at you raising his eyebrows.
'Don't make this weird Roger.'
You said throwing a pillow at him whilst the too of you laughed.
'Now move over.'
You said motioning him to move across.
'Why? Sleep that side.'
'No this is my side.'
'Fine then.'
He moved across pulling the covers over him.
'You don't have to sleep in that.'
'Woh. I'm not sleeping naked.'
'No I know. You left spare pyajams you dick.'
You said turning around to open your wardrobe. You picked up the bag and threw it at him.
'Here you are. Now get changed over there and I'll do the same here. And don't look.'
'I'm not going to I'm not a perve.' He said getting up.

After you had both gotten into your pyjamas you got into bed but stayed awake for a bit talking again.

You were laying staring at the ceiling avoiding an awkward moment.
He had never stayed in your bed before. In fact no one had.
It felt weird.

Soon you yawned and said you were tired.
He seemed disappointed by this remark as if he wanted to talk more.
But he agreed and you turned your back to him.
'Night Rog.'
'Night Y/n.'