Penny For Your Thoughts? (Freddie Mercury x Male Reader)

3. What Now?

Caution: This chapter may contain foul language.

Freddie

I watch him as he leaves the car and I long for him, though I just met him. I watch him climb the steps to his door and... he has a nice ass. Biting my lip I watch him disappear from site as an impatient Paul stomps on the gas.

"The hell was that?" Paul looked pissed. He stared hard into the rearview mirror right into my soul and it made me uneasy, but not as uneasy as it once had before. "You think I hadn't noticed?" He sped rather fast from (Y/N)'s flat. He definitely sounded more pissed than he seemed.

"Eyes on the road Paul," I choose to ignore his question, looking out the window to the rainy streets. Anytime I meet someone new, that I rather liked, he got very moody. And it was happening once more. "What's the big deal anyway?" This shit was getting far too old.

He sighed, like always. "Nothing, never mind," I hated when people did this and he ended up doing this just about, all the time. I knew what was going on here and it happened again, and again.

"What is it Paul? You always do this and I'm rather tired of it." I had a little much to drink and I was getting fed up. That wasn't a great combo for this very moment to be happening.

He ignored my question, acting like he hadn't heard me.

"Paul I said what is it." demanding with a hint of a stern tone. My legs crossed I rub a hand down my thigh.

"I had said it was nothing Fred," he had given up and the car grew quiet again.

We made it to Garden Lodge and went our separate ways for the rest of the night. Heading up to my room, the house felt empty. Undressing, lying in bed, my thoughts end up consuming me entirely. I think I pushed (Y/N) a little much. I shouldn't have done that so soon, after all it is only the second time I had seen him. I want to call him. This house is so quiet and at least the voice of his sweet soul could consume that silence for just one moment. What if he's asleep already? It is late... I'll call tomorrow, see if he has any possible plans.

Whilst I'm deep in thought, a knock finds itself upon my door. I'm stripped down to my underwear and scramble for my blanket. Once I'm concealed, I croak a tired, "Come in." The door creaked open and a sad Paul peaked his head around the corner.

"I um," he looked worried with sorriness, "I apologize for earlier,"

I'm still annoyed. He does the exact same thing all the time: Get fed up with me finding company with anyone, throw a little fit, then tell me how terribly sorry he was. "It's fine, I'm quite tired if you mind?"

"Ah yes, sorry for bothering," and with that he disappeared once more downstairs to the couch I had offered him since he, at the time, had been kicked out of his flat.

The hangover began to settle in and my mind began to feel heavy. I returned to my thoughts. What if I scared off (Y/N)? Would he ever want to see me again? Would he want anything to do with me? Could we at least be friends? I fell asleep to the buzzing of thoughts in my mind and the background music... Natalie Cole's Mona Lisa. The music that made me steady and kept me close to the ground.

***

The clock read 8:52am. I felt, rather okay. Not much of a hangover, it was more like it made itself scarce. Grabbing up my Nokia I get out from bed and peer into the garden. It was quite a mess actually. I should get someone working on that. Lavish flowers and soft colors could shower upon that garden.

As I was getting up out of bed I was a little woozy. I dialed (Y/N)'s number. I waited, and waited, till I was met with a voicemail. Busy? Maybe it's off. I give up and choose to get dressed.