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Maeve 1974
I had been back in London for a week and a half. Since I saw Roger on day two of my return, I had seen him every day since. He was the only one of the boys I had seen. I decided to not let the others know that I was back in the city. I knew there would be too much drama. I just wanted to live a little. Roger and I had been getting close again. Close like we were before I left. Every time I looked at him, I was hit with a massive wave of guilt. Guilt for leaving. Guilt for not calling. Guilt for everything I did. We were just starting something and I disappeared. I was in Francs for a little bit until I moved permanently to Pisa, Italy. It was beautiful, and it's where I heard about Queen's rise to the Top of the Pops. That's when I knew I had to come back.
"Roger?" I was laid back on my hotel bed, running my hands through my now long, dark, curly hair. The blonde man emerged from the bathroom, his hair wet and a towel wrapped around his waist. Damn... he was really naturally that handsome. He smirked and came over to stand in front of me. I wrapped my arms around his waist, right around the towel and looked up at him. Ever since I returned, it made me regret ever leaving. But being with him scared me. I'd seen how he treated women in the past. He always told me I wasn't like those women, but how could I really know? Maybe he moved on when I wasn't around. I had done this to myself. "I have to ask you something."
He placed his hand on my head gently, rubbing my hair. I closed my eyes and rested my forehead on his chest. "Ask away." He tilted my chin up to look at him again. "What's getting at you?" His voice calmed me. This Roger. How could this Roger do anything to hurt me? He was so gentle. So sensitive and sweet. Behind closed doors.
"Did you..." I stopped myself. Did I really want to open this can of worms? I thought it would eat at me forever if I didn't know, so I continued. "Did you see anyone while I was away?" I spat out. I felt bad instantly. I watched as a small smile disappeared from his face. He looked almost sad now.
"I couldn't." He said, running his fingers through my dark, curly hair. "I couldn't get my mind off of you. You left without a word. My mind was always on you." He admitted to me. That made me feel worse. How could I doubt him?
"I'm sorry, Rog. I didn't mean-"
"Hey." He interrupted me, covering my mouth with his hand. After a few seconds, he took it down. "You had every right to doubt me. You saw how I was with Dominique... and countless other women. Hell, I was in... I had feelings for you the whole time. That's how I was." He admitted. At least he knew. He was in what though?
"I'm still sorry, nonetheless." I told him. I hugged him the best I could, smiling softly.
"Did you?" He asked, causing me to look up at him again. Ouch. I guess I knew how it felt now.
"Absolutely not." I told him. "I traveled just about everywhere in the western side of Europe but never wasted any of my time on men. I thought of you quite often."
He went back to smiling before we let go of each other. He grabbed a pair of boxers and shorts and quickly changed in the bathroom. He came back out and our eyes met again. His light ones with my dark ones. My heart raced, smiling softly at him. He walked over to me, smiling in return. Before I knew it, his lips were interlocked with mine again. He kissed me deeply and passionately, with some sort of underlying meaning. We broke apart and he held my face in his hands. He smiled widely. "I love you." He said quickly. I almost expected the panic that I had to appear on his face, but he remained calm.
It took me a minute, but I knew. "I love you too." I did love him. I loved how he was there for me when nobody else was. I loved how he constantly challenged me and kept me on my toes. I loved how followed his dream and handled his fame. I loved the way he made me feel and how I could tell he loved me before I even knew. Back when Tim was around. I guessed, subconsciously, I always knew I loved him. And that he loved me. I guessed you could say we were destined to be together, in some sort of way.
He leaned in and kissed me again, with the meaning of love behind it. I could believe I was in love with Roger Taylor. The rockstar. Even though I was in love with dental student Roger Taylor. Smile Roger Taylor. Time was a gift to the two of us. He wrapped his arms around my waist, taking me down on the mattress in a fit of laughter. The two of us slipped under the covers, laughing together. And then we did more than laugh...
