More than just a friend || Roger Taylor

52- completley and utterly true

1st April 1981

For the first day in weeks, I felt like I wasn't the talk of the world. I felt like I was allowed to be myself. I felt like I could walk out my door without being questioned about my entire childhood and my dads plead of false innocence- and that's because me and Roger may have run away to Paris.

Impulsively ? Most defiantly. But Roger retuned from Brazil with an ache and desperation to escape reality as it's four daunting walls closed in around us. They were suffocating us actually, smothering every inch of us both as we clawed at the edges as an attempt to beg for our escape.

Over the past few weeks I'd needed an escape. Everywhere I went I was harassed. Even though they didn't mean it, I couldn't even pay Julian or Connie a visit without being smothered with questions my mind didn't want to have to force an answer for. So we simply had no choice other than to run off for a couple of nights, which is what led me and Roger to be both watching the rising sun with spitting cigarette as we cuddled besides one another- in France.

Our hotel room was gorgeous. It wasn't stupidly expensive like you'd imagine a model and rockstars hotel room to be, it was how it should've been. Small, warm, plastered with fresh flowers and trapped in the smell of hot pastries, and staring out at the perfection of the Eiffel Tower and its surrounding audience.

"One night down... two to go." Roger chuckled, kissing the top of my head lightly as I nodded. "What do you wanna do today ?"

"Whatever. As long as it's with you I don't care. But we do need to get Julian a gift for having Toulouse." I looked up at the blue in his eyes as his pupils reflected my beaming smile, watching as they creased at the warmly strong pull at his lips. He gently traced his thumb against my cheek, stubbing out his warm cigarette to hold my closer to him.

"I forget how gorgeous you are." He mumbled beneath his breath, a sense of nerves tangled with the shortness of his words as my cheeks hummed red.

"Even with a thick scar against my cheek ? I chuckled, watching him nod instantly. The final marks my dad had left were finally almost healed, but their scars were deep and permanent against my skin. "Well then I best stick with you. For a little while maybe."

It turns out than I didn't even think of staying with Roger for a little while. I didn't even think of stayed with him until we were old and grey. I knew. I knew we weren't gonna leave one another's life until they came to an end. But I'd known that since he'd walked out my door in seventy eight. I'd known he was the only person I could ever love with my entire being since his lips first touched mine. That was a fact that clearly and rightly terrified me, I never expected to want so desperately to have him as my own, but I did.

I think Roger was scared of love. I don't think he liked to think he felt it. I think he used to like the content feeling, stability and social status a relationship bought him. Maybe I was rational for telling myself that, but it made sense to me why he was so resistant to admit the feeling.

I however, had been in love with Roger for a long time. I knew I could never dream of truly unloving him either, that became instantly obvious to me when I sat besides my mum and listened to her call Roger my Angel. It only dawned on me how much I loved him when I realised I believed what she said. And it only proved to me how much I love him when her words became completely and utterly true.

"I love you more than I think you could ever know Adelynn Petrov." His body completely unintentionally stiffened as he said that, a tense twist in his frame not even he expected as I released a small puff of smoke and let the dead cigarette drop free of my hold. He'd almost had a sudden thought in his mind that had caused him to react to bizarrely to his own statement, but i decided no emphasis on it was needed.