Body Language. Queen

Heartbroken.

John's P.O.V.

I'd heard it.

I'd heard the full conversation of Freddie's and Rogers when they were stood outside my door.

I might have been laid in the pitch black, alone in bed, but I heard it.

Sleep didn't come easy these days, my mind was either too busy thinking about everything that had happened or what was going to happen, or my brain just decided I didn't deserve a break, so wouldn't let me loose consciousness for a few hours.

Either way, I heard it.

I heard Freddie telling Roger to knock on my door and talk to me, I was prepared for a half hearted knock that he didn't really want to do, or the knock to never happen and for him to just disappear once Freddie went back into his room...because I heard that part too.

So I lay in bed, on edge, anxious, waiting to see if Roger will or will not knock on my door.

I'd be disappointed if he didn't, but if he did, what the fuck was I going to do? Answer it? At this time in the morning? Surely that would look suspicious. But I won't just ignore him. It would be the first advancement between the two of us for weeks.

But if Patrick was there too, I would not answer that door.

But what the hell would we say?
Sorry? Because that wouldn't fix anything. The damage was done and irreversible.

I miss you? That was true. But I was at the point where I didn't know if I just missed him being in my life in general...not as my boyfriend.

I love you so much, please take me back, let's sort things out, forget anything ever happened and carry on like normal? I couldn't do that. I didn't want to do that. There had been a time where I thought Roger could do me dirty and I'd go running back to him because he was my entire life and all I ever wanted. Now? After everything he'd done, after he betrayed my trust...betrayed me...I don't think I can do that anymore.

I was already mentally and physically prepared for what was likely to happen.

I just didn't know if Roger was. It seemed to me, he wanted to call me a liar whilst getting cosy with my abusive ex...and have me as his boyfriend all at the same time.

Talk about having his cake and eating it.

I wasn't about to stand for that. Not on the first day he did it and certainly not now.

And there it was...minutes after Freddie had disappeared back into his room, three quiet, irregular knocks. As if he'd done the first one and didn't want to do any of the others.

My heart beat loudly in the silence of my room, I glanced over, I could see his shadow moving slightly where the light was leaking underneath the door.

I threw back the covers but remained lying there for a few seconds more, psyching myself up for what was to come.

Eventually I padded over, not wanting to look through the peep hole, just wanting to get this over with.

I pulled open the door.

We both paused, looking at each other for a mere few seconds.

"Roger?" I whispered, acting surprised, as if I wasn't expecting him to be knocking on my hotel door at all.

To put it lightly, he looked awful.
I could quite clearly tell he was drunk, he looked frail and exhausted, big black circles under his eyes, making him look like he's had less sleep than I have...and that's saying something.