October rolled around, along with the warm, brisk colors that coursed through the leaves of the trees. September had felt like an extended summer- it was all sunny mornings and frosty nights. Fall had finally arrived, and I was grateful. My window had been left open during the night, so the crisp autumn air swirled around my bedroom, greeting me. The tip of my nose was icy from the chilly night.
I stretched my arms and legs, pulling the comforter tighter around me. It was a Sunday, and I planned to catch up on homework, and lay low. Last night I had attended yet another Queen concert, doing the usual drinking and dancing, stumbling into my apartment late into the night with my heels in my hand. Although school was still wearing me down, I could look forward to going to these shows. They were my escape, how I could briefly let go of my worries. It was a special and invigorating experience, every single time, and I was so lucky I had the opportunity to attend them.
Three sharp knocks sounded at my door, and I groaned. It was eight in the morning on a Sunday, who would be knocking? I reluctantly pulled myself from my bed, landing in a heap on the floor. I ran a hand through my hair, pulling on a pair of plaid sweatpants, and padded barefooted towards my door.
I perched on my tiptoes to look through the peephole, being greeted by the faces of the two people I expected least to see. My mother and my sister. I put a hand to my forehead, letting out a quiet moan. Shit.
I yanked at the lock and opened the door.
My sister, standing tall at age twenty four, pulled me into her embrace immediately. I fell into her hug. I was forever fortunate to have Amaris as my sister. She understood me truly. Her shoulder length dark hair brushed my chin, smelling of lavender shampoo. "I'm sorry," she whispered, almost inaudibly, in my ear. "I can't stop her." She released me, putting on a fake smile.
"Hi, Mum," I said, with as much cheeriness as I could manage, wrapping my arms around my mother's thin shoulders. She hugged me back stiffly. We weren't really a hugging family, especially my mother. She kept a firm grip on my arm after we parted, looking me up and down.
"What, did you just wake up?" she demanded, eyes narrowing at my disheveled figure.
"Yes, Mum. It's Sunday," I reminded her, waving the two into my apartment. Thank God I had cleaned yesterday morning.
My mother stood in the doorway, looking around the place. She was a bit shorter than me, standing at five two. She was thin, all bones and sharp edges, but not to the point of being unhealthy. Growing up, I was always told I looked like her. Her eyes were larger than mine, and her skin was darker, of course. She was full Indian, having migrated to England when she was a child, whereas I was only half Indian. My father was white. In fact, I wondered where he was. Usually when my immediate family showed up at my doorstep, he was there with them.
"Where's Dad?" I asked, making eye contact with Amaris. I liked having Dad here. He made these dreaded surprise visits just a bit more tolerable. Mum on her own was a nightmare, without Dad there to keep her calm.
"Your father couldn't make it," Mum told me, observing a basket of unfolded laundry on the floor. "So I figured we'd have a girl's lunch."
"It's eight am," I reminded her, forgetting to watch my tongue in my annoyance. She cut her eyes at me, glaring with those dark, empty shells of pupils.
"Amaris wanted to go shopping, too," my mother said with little patience. "Get dressed and make yourself presentable, Thea."
I nodded, gritting my teeth, and disappeared into my bedroom. I put on a striped, long sleeved shirt and an old pair of jeans, sliding into my favorite soft, brown leather jacket. I paired this with black, heeled boots. I brushed my teeth, and hastily combed my hair. I was done and presentable in five minutes, with my purse on my arm and ready to go.
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𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐲 | roger taylor
Fanfiction"this thing called love, i just can't handle it." (roger taylor x oc) (slow-burn) ♡