Don't Talk! (Freddie Mercury / Queen)

1985. Mr Humbug

Happy New Year Everyone! Hope 2024 will be a good one for ye all!

This is the wattpad equivalent of a Hallmark movie, so I apologise in advance. Enjoy xx

December, 1985

When I awoke on the morning of Christmas Eve, I couldn't determine what was the true nightmare: being plagued with troubling dreams of my father throughout the night or being roused by the dreadful sound of Showaddywaddy's blasted tune: 'Hey Mister Christmas'.

With a pained groan, I twisted in Freddie's direction. I blindly reached out for him but my fingertips came in contact with nothing, save for empty bedsheets. I groggily popped an eye open, hoping that he had just rolled away in the night but instead discovered that I was alone.

Forget your troubles and worries, And kick them out the door. Don't look back, come on in. We'll just play some more, more, more, more. Hey, Mister Christmas, We Hope You're Havin' Fun!

I buried myself further beneath the duvet, hoping to drown out the awful racket currently rattling from the radio. There are only about 20 Christmas songs which the wireless plays and being subjected to them all on a constant loop for the better part of 2 months is torturous. I liked winter well enough, it's just a pity I had to suffer through the consequences Christmas had on the season.

"Awake and frowning, are we?" Freddie appeared from the adjoining en-suite with only a towel precariously sitting around his hips.

"It would be difficult to sleep through that tumult." I murmured and raked my gaze down his torso. The view was slightly blurred, so I blindly reached for my glasses on the nightstand to get a better look at him. Today was not to be my day because I accidentally knocked the glasses to the ground with my rummaging.

"I thought it would be better to put you out of your misery." Freddie frowned and raked a hand through his damp hair, "You were tossing and turning all night."

"I don't feel well." I pointed out, which was true but not the cause behind my restless night.

Freddie nodded and moved towards the bed. The springs creaked ever so slightly when he took a seat beside me, and I relished in the bite of warmth that ensued when he took my cold hand. "Yes, how are you feeling now-- you still sound like the British Elvis."

"I'm fine, thank you." I grumbled. "Now turn the wireless off."

"No, it's time for you to get into the Christmas spirit!" Freddie flashed me a smile that almost made me forget why I was in a poor mood to begin with. He crawled a little closer so that he could loom over me.

"Never."

"Yes, I demand it."

"How entirely out of character." I murmured which earned me a playful swat on my arm.

"Last year you admitted to enjoying Christmas, where's that Hayes gone?"

I wanted to say that particular brand of Hayes was brutally murdered last year by his parents, but I didn't care to be so melodramatic aloud. At least not this early in the day.  "His spirit has been shattered by the season's propensity for dreadful music. Everyone thinks they can sing at Christmas, it's disgraceful."