𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐲 | roger taylor

XIX

The moon was bright and swollen overhead, casting spots of blue hued light down onto the abandoned streets, assisting the street lights in its attempts to brighten the area. My bare feet hit the frozen sidewalk as the taxi halted to let us out, and I hissed between clenched teeth at the cold feeling against my toes. Although the effects of the alcohol had worn off over the hours at the party, I still staggered as we made our way towards our apartment building. I guessed it was due to the cold clinging onto my naked legs- my whole body shook from it.

Roger's hand took my elbow to steady me, and I thought I heard him giggle at me. "Don't fall," his soft voice said into the eerily silent air, licks of amusement curling his words. It was funny how he insisted on keeping me upright, considering he was probably more drunk than I was.

It was surprising that he had so quickly taken up my offer to go home early, even though he'd be leaving two willingly eager women behind. I didn't bother saying goodbye to the others. With a wordless nod exchanged between us, we had left through the back door of the club, gotten a cab and took the ride home in silence.

An odd feeling had washed over me, as if something had shifted between us that I didn't know what. Normally, I could expect what was to come from the night- we would retreat to our own separate sleeping areas almost immediately, with little conversation in between. But now, I was completely lost if not a little apprehensive. Would we fight again? Would something more happen? A new understanding had grown through tonight, one that built bridges and hemmed old wounds between us. Just those few words he'd told me in the bathroom had cleared my mind more than they should have.

It was my turn, though, for honesty. It was hard to put into words how I felt about him, but it would be quite easy to show him.

The flat was dark as we entered, and I felt Roger's hand close around my forearm for balance, while my hand crawled along the wall looking for the light switch. I turned it on, eyes adjusting to the offsetting yellow lighting.

Almost immediately after coming inside, I ditched my restricting dress for an oversized t-shirt and a pair of too small pajama shorts, Roger kindly unzipping me before changing into his own sweats. We fell into our usual routine with quiet, worn movements we'd gone through thousands of times after parties or shows. Changing clothes, swiping off makeup, meeting in the living room to quietly chat for a bit before finally going to bed.

With my face free of makeup and tingling from soap, I curled up on the sofa with my legs beneath me, silently waiting for Roger to join me. He did, collapsing into his armchair with a sigh. Even though he was merely a few feet from me, he seemed so far away, and I felt a new pull to have him closer. "Tonight's been confusing," he said, the words like a dreamy afterthought.

"I know."

"I was being unfair-"

"You don't have to apologize again." I'm the one who should.

"- so I'm gonna work on it, okay? If you like Stephen, I like him, too." Roger turned his round eyes towards me, so big and hopeful like a puppy's pleading gaze. A sudden, sharp pang echoed in the bottom of stomach. "You do like him, right? Seemed like it."

His question caught me slightly off guard, but it wasn't an answer I had to fumble for. "He's, well, he's... predictable."

That's all Stephen was, though. He was steady, he was safe. He could probably provide me with a future I could count on... isn't that what I'd wanted all along? Stability? But looking down at the boy in front of me, the boy I'd so desperately tried to stay away from, I knew that that was the exact future I didn't want. Jitters crept up the walls of my stomach as I stared into his eyes, so deep, like two oceans. I felt more emotion simply looking at Roger than I'd felt with anyone else.