One Day in a Record Store • Roger Taylor

49

It was Dylan's third morning in England and she still hadn't gotten used to the time difference.

She wasn't too mad about it, though. It just meant she was able to see the sunrise from Roger's window every morning and how it reflected across his room.

And, when he was positioned the right way, his hair and face. That's when Dylan would stare at him more than usual.

Not in a creepy way, in an admirable way. She was careful with it though. She knew if he ever caught her, he'd never shut up about it.

But being that he tended to do the same thing when he thought she was asleep, she figured she could risk it.

She always thought he was handsome, pretty even, but it was different when the morning sun lit up his sleeping face. A lot more peaceful than his usual energetic self.

And being that she was an art student, she noticed different shadows, highlights and structures in his face that wouldn't be as obvious to others - especially during the sunrise.

And that was what made her grab the small sketchbook she'd brought with her from her bag and draw him in it, freezing anytime he moved in his sleep, and praying he wouldn't move his face and change how the light was hitting it.

She was halfway finished the drawing when he woke up, a result of her repositioning his face after he'd move it.

He was about to ask what she was doing, but decided to keep his eyes and mouth shut when he heard her mumbling under her breath;

"Why the fuck are you moving your head so much all of a sudden? Fuck.."

He wasn't sure why she said it, but he made sure he stayed still as best as he could while he tried to figure out what she was doing.

At first he thought she was taking his picture, or maybe she was going to draw on his face while he was sleeping - something he and the boys did to each other quite often, especially when they were mad at each other.

But when he never heard the sound of a camera click, and did hear the sound of pencil scratching against paper, he was able to guess what she was doing, opening up an eye just a tiny bit to see her focused on the sketchbook in her hands.

They both sat in silence for a while, with Dylan still under the impression that he was asleep, when really, he was holding back laughs anytime he heard her get angry and swear under her breath when something didn't turn out how she wanted it.

She had been trying to get the shading for part of his hair right for about 20 minutes, slowly getting fed up as she couldn't get it just how she wanted.

"Been in school for art for four years, why can't I do this? Oh my god...I'm dropping out," she whispered to herself, erasing the same thing for what felt like the millionth time.

That was what made Roger break.

He didn't laugh out loud. Instead he snorted when he tried to hold it in, Dylan's head shooting up from her book right away.

"How long have you been awake?" She asked him.

"Since you moved my head," he replied. "So, like half an hour."

Her face flushed, realizing he'd caught her drawing him in his sleep.

"Sorry," she said with a nervous laugh as she closed her book before leaning over to put it on the night table on her side.

"Wait, I want to see," Roger exclaimed, sitting up to reach for it.

"No, it's not done!" She said, moving to sit in front of him and hopefully block him from grabbing it.