Why would I forget ? | Roger Taylor

40- Christmas

25th December 1972

I woke up and stretched my arms across both sides of the bed, quickly noticing there was no blonde drummer laid beside me. I rubbed my eyes tiredly and sat up a little, adjusting to the new day as my mind tried to place together where my boyfriend currently was. I sat up a little further, noticing the pile of clothes on the floor was missing a pair of joggers from last night.

I peeled the cold covers off of my frame and wrapped my dressing gown around me before stepping out of the door to hear the kettle whistling and some christmas song being played louder than it should've been. I padded into the kitchen and found Roger wearing just his joggers, his hair still scruffy from the events of last night.

He heard the familiar sound of my footsteps and turned to face me, his lips being immediately stolen my a smile and his eyes focused on me like I was the only thing in the room- maybe even in the world. I smiled back at him, settling into the gaze we shared as the kettle's whistle died and the songs beat slowed slightly.

"Merry Christmas Peps." He smiled, holding a little piece of mistletoe above him with a smug smile. I laughed as I stepped closer towards him, just before  I kissed his lips gently, taking in every small detail of the moment as we fell into one another.

"Merry Christmas Roger." We let our lips separate and our hands part from each other's waist. He smiled again, one that couldn't seem to leave his expression this morning.

"Always wanted to kiss you under mistletoe." He laughed. "Sorry if I woke you. I got up a little earlier so decided to make a cup of tea. Did you want one ?" He asked.

"No I'm good thanks." I turned away from the drummer for a brief second, my eyes being distracted by the flashing tree lights. I looked the tree up and down, being flashed with the memories of the and Roger putting it up. I spun back around and was met by a very small smirk before he laughed and grabbed me in his arms, lifting me up a little so I could wrap my legs around his torso and he could let his hands hold me in place.

I was immediately caught my a wave of giggles after the shock from being scooped up from the blonde had faded.

"You're so gorgeous." Roger whispered.

There suddenly was a certain phrase pulling at my tongue, three little words that had a sudden need to escape my lips. I felt as though I needed to say them, as if I was desperate to confess to the drummer, but I knew the second the phrase left my lips I would regret it. I tried to swallow the words, almost unsuccessfully, and decided telling Roger Taylor that I loved him was a day in the future- not now.

I stopped the words escaping by locking my lips with his. He waddled over to the sofa a little before crashing down onto it with me positioned firmly in his lap as our tongues began to dance with one another's.

Roger paused and very gently pushed my figure upwards a little.

"I hate to kill the mood- but I really wanna give you something." I fell off of his lap and into the seat besides him on the sofa before he got up and grabbed a large-ish box from underneath the tree. He held the gift out in front of me and waited for my hands to take it. "Open it then Peps."

I laughed and took the box, no words managing to slip past my lips as my fingers tore away at the festive paper. I opened the box that was wrapped and inside was a book- one with no cover nor pages by the looks of it. I lifted the book out of its cardboard box and soon realised this wasn't at all a book, it was a photo album, just like the one I'd found under my bed.

I turned to him, slightly confused, and he chuckled a little.

"Open the album you muppet." He gestured. I turned the first page and found a picture of me and Roger, one I had no memory of taking, that looked like it was from over a year ago now. "Brian took that- you were pissed and I was trying to see how close I could get without Noah knowing."