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

AXL X

On the move again! Andy Bernow and Axl Rose have been seen leaving her London flat in Belgravia earlier today. The two continue to circulate rumours with their relationship after being very cosy together when entering a car together. With today being Christmas Eve, one wonders why the two would be going somewhere together if they were much closer than Geffen records has released.

This comes as Mind the Gap prepare for a January Los Angeles performance, their first American performance since the disastrous VMA's in September. The band have continued to have success in the UK Charts with their singles 'Turnstiles' and 'Kill and Wait' still remaining at positions 29 and 68 respectively.

Meanwhile, Guns N Roses remain in the Los Angeles studio working on their next so far untitled album, though this comes with the many controversies such as the heroin use of Izzy Stradlin after having a court ordered rehab due to urinating on a flight in August.

// DailyMail article, Christmas Eve 1989

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w. reference to poor mental health

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Axl pushed Andy's bedroom door open, it was heavy and the ornate handles pressed into his palm, balancing the steaming coffee and the tylenol in his other hand. Andy's slight coughs last week had turned into a full cold a couple of days ago; her nose was now fully blocked and her voice was distorted, similar to how it had after the VMA's, and every few minutes coughs echoed through the room.

He had woken up in the early hours yesterday to the intense heat against his chest. Her skin had been burning hot when pressed against his, flushed a bright red in shade and her breathing was labored and her eyebrows were pinched together. Her sleep was obviously restless, the turning of her head knotting up her hair and there was a sheen of sweat across her shoulders. He had slowly moved his arm then, carefully considering the best option in order to not wake her; she was usually a heavy sleeper but he wanted to be careful. God knows he didn't want her losing anymore sleep over him, he already knew about how she would wait for him to sleep now.

Every time he wrapped his arms around her waist, burying his nose into her hair, he knew she wasn't sleeping; her breathing didn't even out and her hands constantly moved around. He could swear that in his sleep deprived state that she reached out for him, her hand always trying to claim his own between her fingers.

It was probably to make sure that he was still there, that he wasn't a ghostly apparition that had left her alone that fateful night a week ago. Maybe it was in her best interest that he leave, let her live a life not plagued by the depressing reality of having him so close, to not be filled with such pain; but he was too selfish to let her go now. And that was the simple matter, love anchored them too closely together, his stings were tightly wrapped around her and they couldn't be untangled now without cutting both strands.

You were ready to leave her a week ago though, for fucking ever.

He had just bit down hard over his lip, wanting it to swell and bruise. It should hurt.

He had walked towards the bathroom, maneuvering around the discarded clothing on the floor before reaching the door and switching on the light. Like the rest of her house, the room was rich and classy, the white porcelain of the bathtub standing out against the black floor tiles. The mirror was ornate, reflecting back the chandelier on the ceiling and her cream towels on the rack; her toothbrush sat on the side of the sink on the granite, next to another hairbrush and numerous different bottles. There was another cat figure on the side. He'd looked around for a while, breathing in every piece of her in the room; he hadn't got the chance when they had entered the shower together the day before, his head completely buried in her neck and kissing her collarbone. He had run the cloth under the cold faucet, cringing as his fingers iced up after leaving the warm bed.