If It's In You; a Syd Barrett Fanfic

Three

July, 1964
"DAVID PUT ME DOWN!" I scream as David picks me up and throws me into the ice cold pool.
I look over at Roger who's heavily focused on his guitar, rather than having fun with Waters, David, Rick, Nick, and I.
"Roger darling, you're working much too hard on that. Come spend some time with the band, David, and I."
"Fine."
Roger pulls off his shirt and jumps in the pool with me. I struggle to walk through the cold pool water towards him. I jump into Roger's arm and kiss him.
"Ge' a room, Bone'eads." Waters fusses as he splashes us with water,
"Go on mate. Let me love on my girl." Roger says, kissing my neck.
"You guys bloody live together, what more do y'all need?" Nick jokes.
"Mm, new places to do-"
"NO MATE THATS GROSS!" Rick calls out.
"Do yoga." Roger finishes his sentence. But we all knew that's not what his original statement would be. I glance over at Rick, who rolls his eyes.
Me and Roger spend another few hours with the guys, then decide to head back to our apartment, which even though we had been there for a good six months, still was not even half way complete, unpacking wise.
"Ooh baaaby." Roger sings mystically as we shut out bedroom door.
"What's that?" I ask him, collapsing into the mattress on the floor.
"Just a little music thing I decided I like."
"Ah, I like it."
Roger hands me a blunt and lights it for me. We spend the next couple of hours high as heaven, laughing and being the happiest people on the planet.
We eventually fall asleep.
Around 7 a.m., I wake up and see my beautiful boyfriend lying next to me, asleep.
"Good morning, honey." I say, running my fingers through his dark curls. He looks so peaceful and happy asleep. He's not stressed out and tired and depressed. I decide to cook me and him breakfast; French toast to be exact. That's his favorite.
I throw on a Yardbirds album and get to work. After about twenty minutes, I feel two hands being placed on my hips.
"Good morning, love." Syd whispers in my ear, kissing my neck.
I kiss his lips and hand him a plate of French toast.
"Yardbirds? Nice choice!"
"Eh, I figured you'd like them. Plus, it's a beautiful day. You deserve a great morning."
"You're the best, love."
Honestly, how much better could life get?