It's the fantastic drowse
Of the afternoon Sundays
That bored you to rages of tears
The unending pleadings
To waste all your good times
In thoughts of your middle-aged years
A/N: this chapter will consist out quite a lot of segments, like I do more often. Please let me know if it bothers you. Cause sometimes I feel like it might be annoying to read like this WARNING: none! Mainly fluff :) WORDS: 4.6k +
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KENSINGTON, LONDON, 1975
"Morning." Sarah said and smiled as she saw Roger walk into the living room. He looked extremely drowsy, his eyes were droopy and his hair sticking out in all directions. He was wearing grey pyjama bottoms and his zebra striped shirt. "What are you doing up?" He mumbled in his hoarse morning voice and scratched his stomach as he yawned. It was nearly 6 AM and Sarah was already up, sitting on the sofa in the living room wearing Roger's light blue bathrobe. He never wore it anyways and she liked being snuggled up in something during the cold mornings. "Couldn't sleep anymore." She shrugged. "And the postman usually comes around 7, so." "Postman?" Roger asked confused, still looking half asleep. "Yeah, I was hoping Caroline's would have send me a reply by now." Sarah answered and nervously fidgeted with her fingers. "Caroline's?" He seemed completely lost at this point in conversation. "The fashion store, in Islington." She said and pulled her bathrobe a little closer around her. "Oh, right," Roger nodded slowly. "I hope so too." "Did I wake you up?" She asked a little worried. "Oh no, I just-" he got interrupted by a big yawn. "I just had to go to the bathroom." "I see. Would you like some tea? I just put a kettle on." The blonde girl asked. "Why not, I'm up now anyways." The drummer replied and sat down next to her. Sarah couldn't help but laugh a little as she looked at him. "What?" He asked and looked at her. Sarah just shook her head and continued laughing. "What you laughin' at?" "Your hair," she smirked. "It's just messy. And you look tired still, didn't you sleep well?" She replied as she ruffled his hair, making it even messier. "I never get up before 6, I'm a rockstar, you know?" He grinned.
Roger searched the messy coffee table for his pack of cigarettes. It was covered with magazines, vinyls, papers, notes, empty glasses and cups. "Should really sort this mess out." He mumbled and lifted a stack of vinyl sleeves. "Can't find my bloody cigarettes." "What did you and Freddie even do last night to create this mess?" Sarah asked and helped him look. Roger just shrugged. "I'll tidy up a bit when you're off. Don't you have a gig today?" She asked and pulled out his squished pack of smokes from underneath some magazines. "Here." "Thanks," he smiled and quickly lit one. "Yeah we have a gig at Oxford today. So Brian will pick me up later with the van. I'll be home late tonight so don't wait for me for dinner or anything. Oh, and you really don't have to clean this mess up, I made it." His voice was still raspy from waking up. "Oxford? That sounds like fun! And don't worry, I don't mind. I need something to do during the day. It's driving me crazy to just sit and do nothing." Sarah spoke before she heard a loud whistle coming from the kitchen. She quickly stood up to get the kettle.
