BILLET-DOUX ✦ CLASSIC ROCK

66 - roger waters ⁵

Hello again!

I know it's been awhile since I touched this book, and I'm so very grateful to see so many people reading and enjoying what I've written.

I recently delved back into the Pink Floyd universe and couldn't help but write and publish this incredibly sappy, incredibly self-indulgent work for Roger. I didn't initially think to publish this here (hence my OC, Gemma) but it ended up being much lovelier than I anticipated.

I hope you enjoy!
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It was a crisp Sunday morning, one of the first true days of fall. The leaves were just beginning to change from warm summer greens to bright oranges and yellows, little explosions of color just outside the windows. It was early September, and Roger had taken sugar and milk in his tea. At first, Gemma hadn't paid that little detail much mind. She was bustling about, making them a full breakfast, excited to finally have Roger to herself for a day. Gemma had her back turned to Roger, who was idly skipping through radio stations at the kitchen table. She was too busy admiring the colors on the trees, humming along to the Sinatra tune that was playing.

Roger wrinkled his nose, about to skip to the next channel, but hesitated at Gemma's swaying. She always seemed to enjoy sentimental songs like these. He left it on, hoping that she wouldn't pay him any mind. Roger added a few more sugars to his tea. The taste was teetering on sickening, but it was what he needed right now. He took a long sip.

"I love you," Gemma warbled softly to herself, seasoning the eggs sizzling in the pan. "I love you."

When she turned around, she was embarrassed to find Roger admiring her beneath his lashes, smiling something private and small. Gemma folded her arms over her chest, trying to convey frustration, but it only seemed to endear Roger further. His grin grew a bit bigger, crinkling the corners of his green eyes. She was disappointed when Roger swallowed his smile along with a mouthful of tea. Just as the song ended, Roger flicked to the next station with a sigh.

"You're no fun," Gemma chastised lightly. "You never want to dance with me."

"I don't dance." Roger rose his eyebrows, the only sign that he was being playful and not harsh. "You know that."

The station was now softly playing a Vera Lynn number. Much to Gemma's surprise, Roger quickly turned the dial again, as if burnt. She pulled the eggs off of the burner before they started to blacken, biting thoughtfully at her lower lip. Roger never passed up an opportunity to listen to Vera. Gemma wasn't sure how Roger would react if she brought it up, reluctant to break the peaceful atmosphere that they had created. She focused her energy on pinching the sausages out of the pan before she formulated her next thought.

"No Vera today, love?" Gemma got herself with a splash of hot oil and hissed.

Roger didn't answer for a long time. "I'm not feeling sappy today." His mood had decidedly gone sour.

Gemma was sorry for bringing it up. A Beatles song was now playing. Roger left it on.

When she brought their plates to the table, Gemma noticed the light color of Roger's tea. Her heart sank. It was generally a bad sign if Roger was taking his tea sweet. Even worse if she caught him snacking on candy or chocolate. This was one of Roger's many ways of quietly voicing his pain, of trying to comfort himself. Gemma hadn't noticed Roger bringing up any hellish tales from the studio, so this couldn't be about the band. She would have to carefully draw it out of him, to tread lightly across his heart lest he become defensive and lash out. Gemma made sure she didn't look at Roger's tea again.