Musician Imagines

Let My Love Open The Door - Pete Townshend 1

Requested by the lovely Magiuneration (This one was so adorable to write, I hope you enjoy!)

Your eyes were trained upon the floral patterns etched within the wallpaper adorning the foyer to your house, mind scanning for any peculiarities that would serve to distract you from your immense boredom, and, as such, pass the time until your much-beloved boyfriend, Pete Townshend, arrived home. 

He had been away at tour for months on end with his smashing (literally so, in his case) band, The Who. As often as he could, he'd send you a letter, or, on a quieter night, perhaps even drop you a line. These treasured moments kept your loneliness at ease, but with his long awaited return imminent, the wait proved unbearable.

You had just noticed a slight crinkling of one two-dimensional poinsettia when the door flew open with a gust of frigid night air, wafting in from the outside. Stood in the doorway was Pete, along with an entourage of his belongings. You sat in disbelief for a moment, in complete awe, as if he were a precious work of art, serving only to be admired. 

"I didn't change that much, did I?" Pete deadpanned as you shot up and ran into his now outstretched arms for what must have been the most wonderful hug of your life.

"Not a bit, my love." you smiled, and happily kissed him on the cheek.

"I'm quite glad to be home, after that mess of a tour, endless nights in hotel rooms... seems the cold weather's caught up to me." the dark-haired fellow sniffled, to which you pulled away from the embrace, noticing only then, up-close, how he seemed rather ill. His face was pale and gaunt, nose colored a striking red, his eyes rheumy and harboring bags beneath them. 

"Oh, Pete, you must have caught some sort of cold... go lay down, I'll take care of you." you quickly ushered your significant other off to bed, towing his belongings to the bedroom for him before tucking him under the blanket with another gentle kiss, ensuring he was comfortable and warm.

"Thank you, dear." he grinned weakly, clearly very grateful to be receiving such good care. 

In a flash, you sped off to the kitchen, hastily preparing some soup, along with a mug of tea. Once each item was done, you set them both carefully on a tray, and brought them up to your ailing lover.

"Oh, Y/N, you didn't have to do all this! You're spoiling me now!" Pete chuckled as you set the tray on the nightstand beside where he was laying in the bed.

"Nonsense, it's all that you deserve, I'm here to take care of you, after all." you slipped under the covers beside him as he began to consume a spoonful of the warm soup.

"All that I deserve? Why, I certainly don't deserve you, my love, you're far too wonderful. How I missed you while I was away... words wouldn't do it justice. In fact, I'd like to ask you something."

"And what would that be?" you turned to face Pete, eyes wide with curiosity.

"I'm admittedly not quite sure why I never asked before, but now my mind's made up for sure. Would you like to accompany me on the next tour, whenever it may be?" pausing from his meal, he turned to look at you, an earnest expression resting upon his worn face.

"I'd love nothing more, my dearest guitar-destroyer!" the two of you shared a laugh at the nickname before pulling together to form a more passionate kiss, cold germs not a worry in the excitement for what was lying ahead in your intertwined futures.