𝐆𝐞𝐭 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐁𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 ➺ 𝐵𝓇𝒾𝒶𝓃 𝑀𝒶𝓎/𝒬𝓊𝑒𝑒𝓃

𝟗 𝐒𝐭𝐮𝐛𝐛𝐨𝐫𝐧

~ stubborn ~

"And why is it us that has to go shopping for us all?"

"I don't know a single second of the four days we have been here that you haven't complained about something, Roger," Deacy rolled his eyes.

"And why can't our leprechaun friend do it? Isn't he s'pposed to be our personal assistant?" Roger practically whined, his hands rested delicately on his hips and shooting daggers at Paul, who was sat over on the sofa with his feet up and a paper in his lap. He simply glanced upwards with a smirk on his face.

"The personal assistant when you're recording, Roger- now can you stop complaining?" Reid huffed, shoving Roger's jacket at him, to which the drummer groaned, hanging his head back and reluctantly surrendering, slipping on the denim coat.

"So, the two of us who are the pickiest eaters—Fred and Brian—aren't going shopping? So, it's our fault when we get something that's wrong. Or even worse, jelly with animal gelatine so Brian can have a bitch-fit about his sudden vegetarianism?"

I raised my eyebrow and chuckled under my breath. I'd been loitering by the stairs and was now perched at the bottom of them. Roger averted his eyes towards me at the sound of my amused chortle.

"What? He's stubborn!" He defended. He wasn't wrong. About that.

"I'm not denying that Rog," I smiled and shook my head. "But Brian's vegetarianism isn't sudden," I shrugged, half-way through realising that I was defending Brian. Not only that, but I was shocked that I actually remembered when Brian started venturing into alternative diets that fitted his morals more accurately.

"I saw him eat sushi in Japan—Sushi!"

"Calm down," I laughed, slapping my hand over my mouth to somehow prevent Roger from noticing my amusement at his temper tantrum. I looked over at Reid, who had a mixture of impatience and humour on his face. "Where's Freddie?" I asked him.

"Piano room," he simply answered, nodding his head towards the room he and I had our heart-to-heart a few days prior. "He said he had an idea for a song."

"Another one? We've already sorted out what songs we're recording," Roger added.

"Can we just let the man create?" Deacy shook his head, slipping on his own jacket. "It'll probably end up on another album anyways." He shrugged, putting both hands in his pockets. "Right, shall we be off? They'll be closed if we don't stop nattering like a bunch of Nancys," he looked pointedly at Roger who sighed in defeat.

"Okay, fine," the drummer groaned, twisting on his heel, and heading out of the door before anybody else had a chance to. I looked over at Deacy and we shared a mutually amused giggle before the two Johns finally followed Roger to the car outside. Once the door shut, I just sat back on the step I was situated on and relaxed for a few minutes, taking in the genuine quietness of the farm that day.

The heat had somewhat calmed, and there was at least a cool breeze now to counteract the blistering sun, which meant I could wear my long-sleeved shirt that went up to my neck, giving more to the imagination than I was accustomed to. It was a dark green, and the material was ribbed, clinging to my body. I'd opted for a corduroy beige skirt that rested halfway down my thighs, along with some sheer black tights. I was delighted when I first realised, I could finally shop in Biba without walking out with empty hands and a damaged self-esteem. It's true that I had lost a bit of weight since I last spent time with all of the boys consecutively, but it was a good thing. At least, I thought it was.

I left my hair natural, hanging down the sides of my arms and my chest with the slight waves that appeared when I left my hair unbrushed after washing it for just a little longer than usual.