There are jitters in my stomach and a permanent blush on my cheeks as I watch him across from me, sitting on the edge of his seat taking long, slow drags from his cigarette. I can't take my eyes off the cigarette. I observe as he brings it to his lips, breathes in, keeping it poised between his thumb and pointer finger as smoke coils from his mouth. His eyes are landing anywhere but on me. He is silent. He focuses on his cigarette, as if his life depends on it.
I want to speak, but the words are stuck in my throat. His presence alone is enough to keep me on my toes, keep my heart rate aflutter, keep a slight sweat in my palms. I wish he didn't have this effect on me. I was a blustering, nervous idiot around him, and he often used it to his advantage.
"Are you going to talk to me, or are we just going to sit here in silence?"
His words sting me. I look up and finally meet his baby blues, and the eye contact causes me to quickly look away. His eyes are too pretty. Too round, too clear, too blue. I find it difficult to stare into them- it's much too easy to get lost in them.
"Don't be cruel," I mutter, adding a bite to my words. "This is hard for me, too, you know."
"What is?"
Seeing you after all these years. The memories are swelling in my brain, turning my thoughts all foggy with a nostalgic haze. Of course, only the happy memories are the ones I kept, which makes this reunion even harder. He looks much different now. His blonde hair is now kept short, whereas when I knew him, it was long and untamed. He dresses a bit more maturely now. And the cigarettes- the cigarettes are back. While we were together, he had quit. He had quit smoking for me. Now here he was, nursing a cigarette right in front of my face. It was shocking and hurtful. But why was I surprised? We hadn't lived together in years. I couldn't possibly expect for him to quit completely.
"This whole thing," I say quietly instead. "I honestly didn't think I'd ever see you again."
My words cause a change to ripple over his face. His features soften temporarily- his eyebrows uncoil, his mouth curves into a frown, his eyes turn thoughtful. He says nothing.
"I didn't want to keep her from you forever," I admit. "I figured someday we'd meet up again, and I'd tell you then. I never got around to it, obviously. I was scared."
"Of what?" he demands.
I chew on his question. What had I been afraid of? "Rejection, I guess. I didn't think you'd care." My voice breaks. "And when I saw you, I panicked." But he knew. He knew she was his the second he saw her. I couldn't hide her forever.
"Why?" His tone is now soft and gentle, reminding me of the Roger I had known and deeply loved. I loved him with every part of me, so much that it was painful. So painful that I wished I had never met him sometimes.
I finally lock eyes with him. He sees straight into me. He is possibly the only person to understand me so well.
"I don't know." I am honest with him. It's hard for me to lie when he's looking at me like that.
Roger leans back, taking a final drag from his cigarette before putting it out in the ashtray beside him. He tips his head back to exhale the smoke, and I watch, mesmerized, as it curls into the air.
"I guess none of that matters now," he tells me. "I'd like to be able to see her, though, if that's alright with you."
His soft respect drives me insane. Any other man would be either fighting to get custody rights, or they would not care at all. I figured Roger would fall into the latter category. I suppose I was wrong.
I hesitate for a second, and then I nod at him. "Okay."
"Okay," he repeats. "Can I ask you something?" A cheeky smile tugs at the corner of his mouth.
"Sure."
"Why did you keep her?"
My eyes widen, shocked at his question. I open my mouth, but I have no answer for him.
"Not to sound insensitive or anything. I was just wondering, since you must've found out you were pregnant after we'd already broken up," he says, backpedaling a bit. "I wish you had to told me then, I really do. I could've been there for you, Thea. I promise I would've been, no matter what was going on."
Hearing him say all this brings a shudder to my spine.
"I know," I whisper. "I didn't wanna tie you down. I was so hurt, Roger. I wasn't in the right state of mind."
"It's okay. Of course, we can't dwell on this now. It's in the past." His eyes wander to the ceiling, deep in thought.
I'm still trying to create an answer to his former question. I feel like he deserves one, but it might be awhile before I can come up with a clear headed answer. Even now, I still don't know why.
"You can come by anytime on Friday," I blurt. "I don't work that day, so it'll just be the baby and I. If you want to."
He shoots me a soft smile that brings warmth to my stomach. "Sure."
With that, he's leaving my apartment, and as soon as the door clicks shut behind him, I let out a long breath I didn't realize I'd been holding. A part of my past I'd been trying desperately to shut away had been opened... and there was no going back now.
-
a/n
Hey to whoever is reading this! I honestly don't know what this is, I wrote this on inspiration late one night and decided to publish it. If you enjoyed and would like more, please leave a comment to let me know. Otherwise, I won't be updating regularly, if it all. I have some good ideas brewing though... so if this interests you, vote, comment, follow, etc. I'd love to hear feedback and thoughts! Thanks for reading!
- elizabeth
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𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐲 | roger taylor
Fanfiction"this thing called love, i just can't handle it." (roger taylor x oc) (slow-burn) ♡