𝐬𝐚𝐲 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 - guns n' roses [REPUBLISHED]

𝙖 𝙨𝙞𝙘𝙠 𝙢𝙖𝙣, 𝙖 𝙗𝙞𝙧𝙩𝙝𝙙𝙖𝙮, 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙖 𝙡𝙤𝙨𝙩 𝙟𝙤𝙗

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" 𝐧𝐨 𝐟𝐚𝐢𝐫
𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐦𝐞 𝐜𝐫𝐲
𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐠𝐢𝐦𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐨𝐜𝐞𝐚𝐧 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬
𝐢'𝐦 𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐝
𝐢'𝐯𝐞 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐧 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐡
𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐨𝐜𝐞𝐚𝐧 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬
𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐨𝐜𝐞𝐚𝐧 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬 "

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third person ~ seven and a half weeks later......

"Slash!" Duff called, the minute Slash stepped out of the bathroom from his shower with a towel tightly wrapped around his waist.

He was soaking wet and really had no time to be talking because the water was messing up the floors. "What?" Slash grunts in annoyance as he pads to his bedroom.

"No, come here." Duff called, somehow knowing Slash was walking away from his voice and not toward it.

A mother's instincts, Slash thought.

"I'm fucking naked and dripping wet. What could you possibly want from me at the moment?" Slash hissed back.

"Fine, go get yourself together. Hurry up though." Duff called back urgently.

"Thank you. Jesus." Slash sighed.

•

After he'd gotten dressed and fixed himself up, he left his room.

"Happy birthday, Saully." Steven jumped on him, hugging him tightly and pressing messy kisses to his cheek.

"Thank you, but you're getting spit on my face, Popcorn." Slash laughed, taking a step back and gently dropping Steven back onto his own feet.

Before Steven could tease him about getting old, a pained moan caused them both to look where the noise had come from — the sofa, apparently.

Axl laid on his side on the sofa, sweating bullets, with a few dark strands of red hair sticking to his flushed face.

Duff had made him put on a tank top but Axl said he was 'suffocating' in his pants so after 40 minutes of whining about his pants, Duff just let him take them off, which left him in his black boxers.