behind blue eyes ― jimmy page

v. FIVE

︵‿︵‿୨ 1972 ୧‿︵‿︵

     TIME WITH JIMMY didn't move in regular ways. It rushed and slowed constantly; some seconds stretching into eternities and other hours passing in the blink of an eye, leaving the blonde's head spinning in a way she'd never expected from the self-assured rock'n'roll artist. It seemed as if the previous week of radio-silence hadn't happened at all and they picked up smoothly from the moment they'd last spoken five nights ago. Only this time they were the only two there, and the looming competition they'd had before was gone.

     She didn't know how long she spent in his Holland Park house, sitting on his long sofas, sipping on whiskey while they wrote the lyrics to marry his epic tunes. Neither of them even noticed when the sunlight died down and was replaced by the artificial blue of the ceiling lamps, one lonely clock on the wall reminding them of the hours drifting by. By the time they finally called a break Sadie's muscles were aching from sitting for so long and her eyes were weighed down with exhaustion.

"You think that'll be enough to appease your band tomorrow?" She asked, stifling a yawn with the back of her hand as she moved aside piles of papers and stood up to stretch her arms over her head.

Jimmy chuckled, sinking back into the leather as he looked up at the blonde from the couch. "I certainly hope so, it feels like we just wrote half an album."

"The power of team work," Sadie told him with a tired laugh as she collected their half-drunk glasses of bourbon and coke from the side table, which had long since grown warm from abandonment. "It's pretty cool what you can do when you're huge ego isn't in the way, isn't it?"

"You could be six feet under water and still find some way to insult me on my pride, Sadie," Jimmy rolled his eyes with mock amusement, finally setting his guitar next to him and getting up to join her as she carried the glasses over to the bar.

The lead-singer shrugged as she poured the cups out turned the tap on, "Someone's gotta knock you down a peg."

Jimmy leant on the counter next to her, shaking his head at her as if he couldn't decide between being miffed or amused by the woman in his home. There weren't many people in his line of work who could not only tolerate his sharpness but return it back to him twice as much. If he weren't so busy trying to keep up with her he might admire it.

     He watched her pour some suds into the running water and dunk the cups in after them — a platinum-blonde rock n' roller cut and pasted onto a domestic scene. If baffled him, and intrigued him, and he didn't quite know what to make of it. She was one of the biggest rock artists in the world, she could've paid any number of people to clean up after her, but she still chose to keep her small inner city apartment and wash her own dishes.