I Think I Love You | Randy

track 05. sorry seems to be the hardest word - elton john

What do I gotta do to make you love me? What do I gotta do to make you care?

***

"Don't be grumpy with me."

"I'm not grumpy. Get out of my bed."

Rye ignored my demands completely, instead wiggling his way under my duvet so that he could cuddle into me.

"What's wrong, bubs?" he asked, making me frown. Whenever he wound me up he always got himself out of trouble by being extra affectionate and using stupid nicknames. It was the problem with him knowing exactly where my soft spots were, I could never stay mad at him.

"I just don't like that Sonny very much," I grumbled.

"He was nice, wasn't he?"

Sonny was nice, I had to admit. He'd bought both of us bacon butties to 'pay Rye back', then sat and chatted with us while we ate them. He was definitely easy-going and likeable, but after what had happened in the club I just didn't trust him. I felt like he was going to get Rye into trouble.

"I don't like his vibe," I mumbled.

"Are you jealous, babe?" Rye teased.

"Of course I am! We've only been here two days and you've already got a new best friend."

I was joking of course, and Rye knew that jealousy wasn't my issue at all. We'd always had separate friend groups and still stayed close. But Rye also wasn't about to let me tell him who he could and couldn't be friends with, so it was easier just to go with the joke for now rather than get into it.

"What do you want me to tell you, Andy? You're irreplaceable. I'd die without you." I could hear the smirk in his voice.

"Don't patronise me," I chastised him.

We went silent for a few moments. I let Rye hold me close against him but didn't cuddle him back. There was a lingering awkwardness, neither of us completely happy with being at an impasse but both knowing it wasn't worth pushing it. I was just worried about him, and even if that worry was unnecessary I couldn't help it, because he was the most important person in my life.

"What do I gotta do to make you love me?" Rye suddenly asked, his loud voice breaking my train of thought.

"What now?"

"What do I gotta do to make you care?"

"Wait a minute are you-?"

Rye cut me off. "What do I do when lightning strikes me? And I wake to find that you're not there."

Of course, it was song lyrics. I should have noticed sooner as we'd listened to the song a thousand times on our seventies playlist. For most people, Elton John lyrics were probably not the best method of dissolving tension, but with us it was kind of perfect. I couldn't help but smile, feeling the mood between us lighten as I continued our half-sung conversation.

"What do I gotta do to make you want me? What do I gotta do to be heard?" I heard Rye chuckle behind me as I caught on, so I slipped into musical rhythm for the next couple of lines. "What do I say when it's all over? Sorry seems to be the hardest word."

"It's sad," sung Rye

"So sad," I echoed.

"It's a sad, sad situation."

"And it's getting more and more absurd."

We alternated lines throughout the chorus, coming together in melodramatic unison for the final lines. I rolled over in Rye's arms so I could belt it straight into his face.