how soon is now? || w. a rose [i/v]

AXL XI

You talk about her a lot,

Do I? I forget I'm supposed to be telling y'all about the music, aren't I

No it's endearing, truly. You must love her a lot.

I do, and I think more people should love her, maybe that's why I tell everyone about her. So they can love her too.

But not as much as you

Never as much as me. Love of my life, truly. I don't know where I would be without her.

// Interview with Axl Rose, 1991

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w. reference to drug abuse, referenced drug use in front of children, very light nsfw

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Axl stood back at the marble of the fireplace, staring back at the mirror opposite him. It was just as ornate as it had been two weeks ago. The cat figurines remained in the same place, the black porcelain shining under the warm light of the room.

He liked to believe that he looked better than three weeks ago, his hair less rusty and limp and his eyes seemed to have a better shine and the purpled bruises were less pronounced. Maybe not institutionalized, yet, but definitely placed on some kind of watch list. He was also dressed a lot better than a seven year old sweatshirt and oversized thrift stop sweatpants, that probably helped.

He could hear the click of Andy's heels as she made her way down to the front door, the red bottoms of her stilettos loudly hitting the tiles. They were the only shoes that she wore around the house, the rest always remaining in the hallway, not that he was complaining, with the way they showed off her olive legs and the curve of her ass.

She was dressed up, a tight, dark red dress wrapped skin tight around her figure showing off her tits and thin waist, the deep neckline pulling up and then down to her arms, the long sleeves just stopping at her wrists. And that wasn't even taking into account her black silk stockings, the top skimming out from under dress when she moved.

When he asked why she was dressed so nicely, she'd laughed, flipping back her long curls.

"Every year me and Yoko always pick our favorite dress from the year to wear on New Year. It used to be for when we went out to clubs but, I don't know, I still like to do it even if we're just gonna sit on the sofa all evening,"

He'd felt very underdressed after that, but then again he always felt underdressed in comparison to her. Even if she were to wear old rags she would still best him, the Goddess before him. The depths of her black eyes and the way light hit the hump on her nose, he was positive that he could never compare.

He'd still dressed in his best jeans, a white t-shirt and his red blazer. He was only sure that the jeans were his because the hem hit his ankles and not his shins, he'd made the mistake of putting on Andy's jeans far too many times, only for them to just reach under his knees.

He just managed to hear the front door opening, voices muffled. Whatever takeout she had ordered twenty minutes ago, twisting the phone cord around her metallic black nail, had arrived.

It would be an interesting New Year that was for sure and oh so different from every single one he had experienced so far. The one's back in Lafayette had been as plain as possible, with no fireworks or bonfires in sight. They had still gone to service as always, the bastard shouting the same damn speech of repenting for the last year spent in sin, of course. Axl had always caught his side eye for that, they weren't green like his or his mother's.