Queen oneshots

No one compares : Dealor

Warning: mentions of suicide and death
Johns POV:

𝘕𝘰.
𝘯𝘰 𝘪𝘵 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥𝘯'𝘵 𝘣𝘦 𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘦, 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘢𝘴𝘯'𝘵 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭.
𝘯𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭.
𝘪𝘵 𝘤𝘢𝘯'𝘵 𝘣𝘦 𝘐 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘪𝘵 𝘵𝘰.
𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘭𝘦𝘵 𝘪𝘵 𝘣𝘦.

~~~~~~~
It was a cloudy morning that day. That day, the day where everything went wrong.
February 23rd 1983.
The day that I would look back on everyday for the rest of my life, wondering what I could have done, and asking myself why I didn't do those things.

I looked from the window in my room, to the sleeping angle sprawled out on the bed. Lips parted, and snoring lightly. The face of my beautiful boyfriend, Roger Taylor. I smiled in awe at him, as I walked over to him. I knew it was wrong to wake him from such a peaceful slumber but I wanted to hear his wonderful voice. I lent over him and placed a small kiss on his lips. When he didn't react I depend the kiss ever so slightly, and surely enough he slowly began to kiss back. I pulled apart and his eyelids slowly opened, his lips formed into a smile when he saw me.
"Morning." He mumbled, voice still thick with sleep.

"Good morning love, what did you dream about?" I always asked him this, because I knew he loved to tell me.

"You." He smiled sweetly at me before shutting his eyes again.

"Oh really? What happened." I asked, trying to get him to wake up and engage conversation with me.

"It was a bit odd really. You took me to the beach, and then it jumped to us two and Fred and Bri in the tour bus playing scrabble- but it wasn't really scrabble it was a different version. And then... um then.... well I can remember now." He furrowed his eyebrows trying to remember the context of his dream.

"Sounds great, come on get up." I said pulling the sheets off of him, he let out a small squeal as the cool air hit his bare skin, before curling up into a ball trying to keep in as much body heat a possible.

"Deaky! Give it back, I'm cold!" He pouted.

"Not a chance, you need to get up and put if bed mister! Come on get dressed and come down stairs I'll make you a cup of tea." He gave in at hearing the words tea, and begrudgingly climbed out of bed.

I made my way into the kitchen, the marble tiles cold on my bare feet I should have worn slippers. I filled up the kettle and prepared the tea before making my way over to the living room and sitting down on the sofa. I turned on the tv and switched to the news channel. The where showing the weather, it was going to rain most of the day. Great, I had planned for me and Rog to go out to the park but no way am I going out in the cold and wet,

I heard Roger come done the stairs and go into the kitchen, probably thinking I was in there. "I'm in here love!" I called over my shoulder at him. A few seconds later he appeared at the door wearing some jeans and one of my hoodies.

"Is that mine?" I asked him, raising one accusing eyebrow. He just smiled innocently in reply.

"Whatever it looks better on you anyways." I shrugged, and I wasn't lying. He did look good in it.

He came over to sit with me sipping on his tea. He set the cup down and leaned into me, watching the tv.

After a while of just sitting watching telly in comfortable silence he got up and announced that he was going to go to the shops. He grabbed his coat and slipped on his shoes. He was about to leave when I ran up to him, turning him around to face me and giving him a kiss.