𝐴𝑑𝑑𝑖𝑐𝑡𝑒𝑑| 𝑅𝑜𝑔𝑒𝑟 𝑇𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟 ✔

XXVII

I was zoned out, bored out of my skull. Just listening to him could make me fall asleep, and it made me wonder: what did I ever see in this guy and how the fuck did I find him the least bit interesting.

I was casually at my workplace, while Jane was over at the garden centre to stock up on more Halloween sort festive flowers, that I'd forgot the name of. It was far too long, who even came up with it? Why not just call it a Halloween or autumn flower? Besides I didn't understand why she was getting them right now it was only September, they'll probably be dead by the start of October.

Anyway 10 minutes into my shift and the door abruptly opens, revealing an angry James, resulting a subtle eye roll in my behalf, as he flounced over to me.

He's been standing here for at least 15 minutes, blabbering on a load of shit about how he's going to ruin my career and reputation. Like what are you? Five? Besides, what career? I work part time at a flower shop. I couldn't really care if I get fired from here, I could always just take Roger's advice and become a waitress or something. Maybe even a stripper?

I raised an eyebrow at the latter option, catching the attention of the dickhead in front of me, that I forgot was even still in my presence.

"What? What are you thinking about? Are tough even listening to me?" he asked, looking offended that I can't stand to listen to him go on and on about nothing but bullshit.

"Uh... No, not really. You're a tad boring, not gonna lie" I tell him, opening up a magazine, dragging my attention towards something far more interesting.

"You can avoid me all you want, Alice. But just know you won't be able to live without me for long. Just in a while, you'll come crawling back, getting on your knees, begging me to take you back" he leaned over the counter, I looked up with a bored expression, before I snorted a laugh, which turned into fits of laughter. What a cocky, arrogant prick.

I sighed, once I was done laughing, an amused smile still plastered onto my face. "Keep telling yourself that, maybe one day your so-called "charm" will work on a desperate, lonely girl" I said, rolling my eyes and picking up my magazine.

"You'll regret leaving me, Al" he insisted, his hands resting on the counter.

"Yeah well I'm sure not as much as you probably regret cheating on me" I implied, flipping over to the next page of my magazine.

"Who on earth could care for you more than me? You'll never find anyone better" he stated, confident in his statement.

"Bit late" was all I said. I looked up in satisfaction as I observe the blood rush to his face in anger, before storming out.

Finally. I looked back down and continued to read the magazine.

After work was done, I headed over to the empty flat. Roger has recently been a lot busier at the studio and getting a lot more gigs at a variety of pubs in London, it was getting slightly hard to keep up on which one they'd be performing at.

I was sitting on the couch, with my knees up and my feet resting on the couch, reading my book, when the telephone started ringing. I groaned, that telephone seemed to be ringing a lot.

I stood up and answered it. It was Roger, which made me smile.

"Hello, love. How was work?" I heard him ask. "It was... Interesting" I looked up at the ceiling in thought of a word to describe it.

"Well Fred's throwing a party after the gig tonight, you could tell me about it then?" he asked. I leaned against the wall with a grin on my face, curling the telephone wire to my index finger. It was starting to become a habit.

"Sure. What time is the gig tonight?" I asked, accepting his offer.

"The gig starts at eight-ish and ends 'round about midnight" he explained.

"Okay, I'll see you then. Are you still at the studio?" I asked.

"Only for another hour. Then I'll be home a couple of hours before the gig starts" I could already tell what he was thinking, as the smirk was evident in his voice.

"Hmm, I wonder what we'll do with all that spare time?" I smirked, teasing him.

"It's a mystery. I'm sure we'll work something out when I get back" he implied, even though we both know what would happen.

⚜︎

A few hours later and it was nearly time to go get ready to head to the gig. Roger and I were tangled up in the sheets, his head resting in the crook of my neck, planting a few kisses.

"We need to start getting ready. Otherwise we'll be late" I closed my eyes, leaning my neck back, laughing softly, as his breath tickled my neck.

"Mmmm. Five minutes" he complained.

"You've had five minutes, now get up and get dressed" I rolled my eyes, good-naturedly, patting his bare back – which had a few scratches – to get him to move.

He groaned and rolled over onto his stomach. I felt his eyes observing me, as I walked up to the dresser and started to dress myself in a tight black dress, black high heels, bright cherry-red lipstick, a touch of mascara and eye liner, while finger-combing my curly fringe.

As I fixed my hair and makeup in the mirror, I watched as his twinkling blue eyes watched, softness and gentleness in them. I smiled at him through the mirror.

He stood up, pulling on a pair of trousers and walking my direction. I was fiddling with my silver necklace, when he wrapped his arms around my stomach, resting his chin on my shoulder, looking at my eyes through the small mirror on the tall drawers.

"You look absolutely gorgeous, love" he complimented, pressing a passion-filled kiss on my cheek.

"Thank you" I whispered, turning around and kissing him with everything I had. I wrapped my arms around his neck, his tongue made it's way passed my lips, as his hands held on to my hips.

After a moment, I pulled back, breathless and happier than I've ever felt. I grinned as his lips were covered with smudges of my lipstick. He grinned back "what?" he chuckled, in slight confusion.

"You have something on your lips" I tried to use my thumb to rub the lipstick off, but he just rolled his eyes and pulled me in for another kiss.