Bohemian Rhapsody

False Truths Part Eleven

"Love of my life, you've hurt me, love of my life, don't leave me" Love of my Life
You could barely keep running, people staring at you, as you tore through the streets, trying not to trip in your damn platforms on the cobbled streets. Breath came in gasps, and it occurred to you that you'd never been so unfit as you were now - then again, there was a baby in you now. Well, a fetus, that would become a baby.
"Y/N!"
God, did he ever give up?
You didn't look round, though it was pretty obvious that you'd heard him, if the fast running was anything to go by.
He still hadn't given up by the time you'd reached your street, you rifling through your bag for your keys. You just prayed that the door opened first time.

You pushed the keys into the lock, jiggling them around, cursing under your breath, as you heard running up the stairs.
"Shit, shit, shit." You huffed, kicking the door in contempt, still trying to get in.
"Y/N." You were irritated to hear him completely fine - not wheezing like you were.
You gave up trying to unlock the door. You couldn't run forever - both metaphorically and literally. Leaning against the cool, wooden door, you inhaled deeply, jacket pulled across you in a way so he couldn't see the bump.
"Please. You need to talk to me. You owe me that much, you know," his voice was angry, hurt and a multitude of other emotions, that you couldn't process.
You owe me that much. You did, you reluctantly knew.
You looked at those blue eyes again.
"I know." Your voice was small, timid, something it'd never been around Roger, turning round to try the keys again. Oh of course the door opened first time.
"You better come in."
*********************************
"Do you want a cup of tea?" You questioned, walking toward the kitchenette, desperate for something to do.
He blinked, walking into the open plan room, where the kitchenette, and sitting room were connected.
"You even have a kettle?"
He was looking round the empty room, aside from a few cushions scattered around.
"Yes."
"I guess anything was better that living with me."
His voice was barely audible over the noise of the kettle, and you froze slightly, back to him, placing tea bags in mugs.
"You still take black tea?"
"Surprisingly that preference hasn't changed in three weeks. Compared to a lot of other things." He was resentful, angry, but the tone was overall just... neutral. And that killed you - he'd always expressed his emotions to you so well. You couldn't blame him.
"Here." You said quietly, passing the cup to him, and sitting down on a floor cushion, brushing your hair out of your eyes.
He took one across from you, and that in itself weirded you out. You'd usually be sat on the same one, you most probably sat in his lap, combing his hair with your hands.
You sat in silence for a few seconds, sipping the hot drink, self consciously rearranging your jacket around you.
"Why?"
It was such a simple question, the tone so emotionless that it caught you off guard.
"Why'd you do it? You know I didn't cheat, from what I've heard."
You blinked, staring at the tea. "I ... I don't want to hold you back."
"You haven't before, why would you now?"
"I don't want to stay at home, growing older waiting for you to comeback off tours, while you are surrounded by thousands of gorgeous fans. Why would you come back?"
"I'd never do that to you - you don't know how much I love you."
Could he still even love you?
"I can't just stay behind and wait for you."
"Then come." He grabbed your hand suddenly, eyes earnest. "Come on the tours, and you'll see - everything will be okay. I understand that you're scared of what I'll do, but I'll never cheat, you'll see."
Your eyes began to fill with tears. God damn those pregnancy hormones.
"But I can't come."
"Why?"
"I...." Your head hung down, hair falling in front of your eyes.
"You can't even tell me why you wont be with me?"
"I'm scared to tell you." You locked eyes with him. "I'm scared of what will happen."
He blinked. "Wha- You don't have to be scared of me-"
"Not of you. Just..." you sighed.
You knew what you had to do, as you grabbed his hand gently, and placed it on your stomach.
"What?"
And then it sunk in. You could tell that by the paling of his face.
"Pregnant?"
You nodded, chewing your lip, praying that he'd be happy.
He pulled his hands away.
"I-I've got to go." He blurted, kicking over the tea mug accidentally, as he strode toward the door, hands trembling slightly.
The door shut quietly when he left.