Calling All Boys (Queen)

Honeymoon Period.

Roger's P.O.V.

My heart surged as I stared back at a calm looking John that was sat across the table from me.

How could he ask that and not know my answer?

Why would he ask that?

I quickly picked up my beer glass and took several large gulps whilst avoiding his eye contact, before placing it back down onto the table and wiping my top lip with the back of my hand, all the while Deaky continued to draw patterns in the condensation of his own beer glass, a small smile present on his lips whilst he waited for me to compose my fucking self and bloody answer him.

"Y-Yeah...how could I forget..." I rushed, quietly. My heart was beating quickly. John has never brought us up in conversation before, not properly...not since we ended things between us, anyways.

He nodded, still smiling, his eyes finally looking up at me, "How do you feel about it? Now that...you can look back and...and really think about it..."

I stared at him silently, my mouth slightly agape...eyes slightly narrowed...I was suspicious, but he was just making conversation.

I sighed heavily and leaned back in my chair, feeling a tad embarrassed, a nervous smile gracing my lips.

"Umm...I-" I brought my hands up and shrugged, words not coming to me very easily.

What do I say?

How do I say it?

"It...it was nice." I brought my hands down in defeat and let them slap against my legs.

John scoffed, "Nice?" He questioned, somewhat sarcastically.

I nodded a little, not quite understanding him.

"It wasn't though. Was it?" His voice had shallowed and he was speaking in a dull whisper.

I felt my body go a little limp as defeat pulsed though me, I looked down, picking up my pint glass again, "No. No, not really." I whispered quickly before downing some more of my beer.

There was an awkward silence for a few moments whilst John also took a drink of his own beverage.

It wasn't nice. Maybe at the time we thought it was, being in the midst of the honeymoon period and all that shit, just getting together, being infatuated with each other and then completely fucking ignoring all of the obvious problems and issues we both had, as individuals and as a unit. Sure, we might have fancied the absolute bollocks off each other but that doesn't always mean that you're going to be the perfect match, does it. And we were far from that. In fact...everything got quite toxic.

He put his glass down again after having downed some of the liquid, he looked hesitant about his next words but he made them leave his mouth.

"If...if we were to do it again...what would you do differently?" He asked.

Suddenly, there were a few sharp rings of a bell and a loud shout from Dave, the owner of the pub and a guy who we had known for years, "Last orders!"

I quickly glanced at John and made the decision to grab both mine and his empty pint glasses, "I'll get us a last one, yeah?" I nodded as I scrambled to get up from the table and rush on over to the bar to avoid his weird question...but no doubt I would still have to answer him when I return.

I exhaled deeply, what was he doing? Why was he bringing all of this shit up now? What difference would it make if I told him I would treat him a hundred times better now, than I did before? It wouldn't make a difference...we don't want each other anymore...so why does he want to know.