speechless | roger taylor

six

"This?" Elise asked, looking over at John, "this is Prenter?" She was only answered with a small, curt nod.

Roger was sat beside Elise, his fist that wasn't holding his mug of cocoa clenched. If it was possible, Elise was sure there'd be steam coming from his ears. She wasn't sure if it was because of the comment he made about her, or if it was simply because of his presence.

"Whatever," Paul said, waving over the whole situation, "we're going to Ridge Farm studio, soon." As he spoke, he handed each of the boys a small pamphlet.

Elise looked down at her lap, her hands cradling her mug of cocoa for dear life. She felt out of place and for a split second, she had wished that she never decided on going out last night. A flood of insecurities rushed through her head and she closed her eyes, trying to re-ground herself.

She felt as if she was on the verge of a panic attack and she sighed, opening her eyes. She remembered a small thing her mother had taught her when she was younger, a way to help get through it. She looked around, not raising her gaze enough to catch the eye of anyone in the room.

"Five things you can see," she thought. "My mug, John's platforms, small stain in the rug, door stop... and one of the pamphlets."

Elise didn't realise that the pamphlet on the ground was Brian's. She hadn't realised that a fight had broken out in the room because all she was focused on at that point was her tactic. "Four things I can touch. Roger's jumper, his track pants, Roger's knee, my mug." As she thought, her hand trailed over the things closest to her. She hoped that Roger hadn't noticed her fingers trailing over his knee faintly.

What she didn't know, though, was that her fingers were like fire, even through his jeans. He looked over at her and it felt as if his anger faded away, even for that split second, as his gaze fell on her. She didn't notice his eyes burning a hole into her skull as she tried to think of three things she could hear. Her eyes were closed, fingers clasped around her mug so tightly, she was afraid she'd break it.

"Two things you can smell..." she sniffed slightly, the smell of Roger's aftershave and her cocoa flooding her senses. "Aftershave and cocoa."

"One thing you can taste. Cigarette smoke." Elise thought. She opened her eyes and brought herself back to reality, taking a sharp intake of breath.

"Elle," John said a bit louder this time, catching her attention. He had been her friend long enough that he knew what it looked like when she was having a panic attack, but he knew not to bring it up in front of the whole band. "Can I show you something?"

Elise nodded and stood up, placing her mug of hot cocoa on the coffee table in the middle of her room. She held the wrists of Roger's jumper around her hands, fiddling with them as she walked over to John. He led her into the recording area of the studio and shut the door behind them, making sure no one in the other room could hear them.

"Are you alright?" John asked, placing his hands on her shoulders. 

She gave him a smile. "I am, now. Did my little thing, you know?" she giggled.

"Did it work?"

"I'm not shaking or crying, so, I'd say it worked," Elise told him. She pulled him into a hug and nuzzled her face into his hair, chuckling softly at the tickling feeling.

"Love you, munchkin," he told her, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. 

Elise smiled at the nickname. She had always been like John's little sister and she knew it—everybody knew it. It was easy to tell with the two of them because of how close they were, and how easily John took her side.