Maylor One-Shots

Wake Me Up

A/N:
This chapter is inspired by the Ed Sheeran song (not based off, basically just the title and feeling of the song), So here ya go—
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Brian had stayed up nearly all night, the bags under his eyes more than enough proof of his insomniatic behavior. His mind plagued with lyrics, chords, and a certain pair of blue eyes, along with the raspy voice that haunted his conscious and subconscious alike for the past two years.

But close to 4am, his eyes began to feel heavy enough to welcome sleep with open arms. That was until a shrill noise broke him out of his near blissful state.

The phone rang wildly in the dim lighting, the groggy guitarist grabbed the phone and pressed it to his ear.

"Hello?" He answered, his voice rough with sleep as he rubbed a hand over his face.

"Hey, Bri... Did I wake you?"

The raspy voice on the other end was enough to make him sit up in bed, suppressing a yawn. It wasn't normal for Roger to call this late, or really at all unless it had to do with band rehearsal.

"No, just...working on a song." Brian pulled the phone away to let out a small yawn. "Are you alright? It's quite late."

"It's very late." Roger sighed, Brian could tell by the tone of his voice that he was upset.

"He didn't come home again?"

It was the same story, different day. Tim stayed out all night as Roger waited for him to return, but sometimes (most times) he wouldn't, likely shacking it up with some London bimbo again. Yet another reason Roger occasionally called, to see if Brian had seen Tim.

"Getting quite predictable, isn't it?" Roger huffed a humorless laugh. "It's pathetic."

"I'm sorry, Rog." Brian frowned as he heard the shakiness to his words, shaking his head. "I hadn't heard from him."

"No, I know... I was wondering if um... C-Can you come over?" The blond asked hesitantly, a small sniffle echoing through the receiver.

"I'll be there in ten."

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

And that was how Brian found himself walking the nearly empty London streets at 3:45am, hoping he didn't get stabbed or viscously attacked by the few people staring as he passed by.

Getting murdered just didn't fit into his schedule that week.

A shiver shot down his spine as the winter air surrounded him, the freezing breeze making his body shake as he quickened his pace towards the blonds flat.

He couldn't decide if he was shocked or relieved when he knocked on the door and was immediately pulled into the flat by a sniffling twenty-one year old boy.

"I'm sorry for making you go out in the cold, I just..." Roger swallowed, folding his arms over his stomach as he gazed at the ground. "I broke up with Tim."

"Oh."

"Yeah, I..." Roger sniffled again, wiping his teary eyes. "He left. Left the band. He said that we weren't going anywhere and that it was a waste of his time, so I ended it. I think at this point, I was only with him for the band." Roger explained, clearing his throat when he voice became hoarse. "Now I just... I don't want this to end. Me and you and the whole music thing. I think we could really be something, you know?"

Brian swallowed, the crystal blue eyes stared at him expectantly. He felt his breathing hitch when another tear slipped down his cheek. He felt happy inside at the news, albeit a bit guilty.