Starstruck

Part 17

Warnings: swearing, sentiments of sadness

Historical Inaccuracies:

• SO. This is more of a disclaimer than an inaccuracy. But it's very important...
•I have written Mary's character on basis of Lucy Boynton's portrayal of her in Bohemian Rhapsody. I make no assumptions concerning the relationship between Freddie and Mary, and nor do I condone the things Mary has done in the wake of Freddie's passing.
• Please remember this is a fictionalisation. But anyway. I'm not here to talk about that; I'm here to write fanfic! Let's go!!

Word Count: 2.6k (can i get three cheers for the shortest chapter ever)

⁺˚*·༓☾ ☽༓･*˚⁺

You found her soon enough. She hadn't even made it fully up the stairs.

A pitiful sight, she was, sitting with her knees pulled up as she wept quietly into the velvet of her trousers.

"Mary," you began gently, and she lifted her head.

Her eyes were puffy, and tears had drawn angry red lines down her round cheeks. Her hair, which had previously been up, fell about her face in blonde wisps as her lower lip trembled and her eyes filled anew with tears.

You made your way over to the corner where she sat and she watched you raptly, like a frightened animal. You knelt beside her.

"Hey, what was that all about?"

Mary only shook her head, blinking rapidly in an attempt to stem her tears.

You offered her a hand up, and after a few moments of contemplation, she took it and stood.

She stared at you a moment before rivulets came running down her face again.

"Come on," you said. "Let's get some air."

You led her up the final stairs and pulled open the door at the landing, guiding her outside onto the rooftop terrace.

The night air was cool, and from the heated rush of emotions that still seemed to cloud your mind to the giddiness that still occupied your stomach, the breeze on the roof was one you welcomed.

Mary seemed to relish the sudden cold as well, going as far as to lean out over the railing and close her eyes in the onslaught of the wind.

Thinking that you should probably not allow her to do any leaning given the mental state she was presently in, you came to stand by her side.

"Do you want to tell me about it?"

Anger flashed across her face, and she wiped her eyes with a frustrated air, only more infuriated by the fact that she was crying.

You were about to assure her that she needn't say anything at all when she blurted,

"I found Freddie with another man."

"Oh," you said. You pressed your lips together, trying to gauge how it was you were to handle this.

"I just can't believe that he'd lie to me."

You were reminded of Deacy's comment about Freddie being 'nearly pathological' with respect to lying, but that was hardly helpful right now, and you could only imagine the crushing betrayal Mary must have felt.

"I can believe that he would lie," she elaborated, fingers curling around the railing, "but not to me. I just— oh, I suppose I thought I was different." She gave a shudder. "I'd had the feeling that something wasn't quite right, and I tried to talk to him, tried to tell him that he could tell me anything, and that even if I was mad about whatever it was when he told me, I wouldn't stay that way."