20. ...to tell the truth

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Marge was at home, she knew Josie's plans for today. Judging by how quickly Josie flitted through the hallway, slammed the door shut and then there was only crying, Marge could imagine how it went. It was also clear Josie didn't want to talk about it.

The doorbell woke them up half past two a.m.. Marge went to the door and frowned at Roger, who stood there.

"Do you know what time it is?"

"I must talk to Josie."

"And I thought you came to see me." Marge grimaced.

Josie, with her hair messy, eyes puffy, wearing the same clothes as in the afternoon, stood by the door to her room.

"I need to talk to you." he said quietly.

She stepped aside and let him go in. Roger started, as soon as the door were closed.

"Leave with me." he said a took both her hands.

"What? When, Where?"

"Now. I mean right now. We can get a cottage near a forest in Yorkshire, beach at Seychells, whatever you say. I know, you are going to leave, it's a big opportunity, but we still have some time and I want to spend it with you, around-the-clock."

She smiled, her eyes were filled with tears.

"What abou the band?"

"They'll still be here next week. You won't. They'll handle it without me."

"Alright." she smiled.

"Alright." Roger smiled back. He laid his hands on her cheeks and pulled her closer. The minute their lips touched, her heart almost exploded with happiness. Then her knees weakened. She grabbed him behind his neck and tried to press herself to him even closer. He clasped her waist and pulled her up on her toes, she hid her fingers into his hair.

"You need to pack." he whispered.

"And have a shower." she said and grabbed some fresh clothes.

"And where do you want to go?"

"Wherever."

"Miami can arrange anything."

"The cottage in Yorkshire sounds great. Miami will be happy, that you call him at three a.m."

She had shower and changed her clothes and stood in front of her wardrobe, while Roger sat on her bed. The phone ranged and Roger went to take it, he was expecting their manager to call. It indeed was him, with instructions.

"Don't pack too much, you won't need clothes." Roger smirked, when he came back. She blushed and just throw her favourite pieces into the bag. Soon she stood in the hallway, ready to go. Roger helped her to her coat, put a shawl around her neck and pulled her to his lips with it.

From the other side of the hall, Marge observed them.

"What are you doing?" She asked without embarrasment.

Roger grinned, took Josie's bag and what downstair to the car.

"We're going away. Someplace together, before I leave to US."

"So you're leaving."

"I's a big opportunity."

"I'd say fucking Roger Taylor of Queen is even bigger opportunity, than to work in the UN." Marge shrugged. "Don't forget about the safe sex rules." She added, already on her way back to the bed.

Josie ran downstairs and got in the car. They went to the office first, cranky and tired Jim Beach was waiting for them.

"Do not destroy anything." he said, when he gave the key to the cottage, he quickly rented from his friend.

"I can't promised that." Roger smirked.

"Roger, do you realize the boys are going to kill you? I should kill you."

"None of you will. Tell them I'm sorry, I'll be back on Monday."

Jim nodded and let them go. They headed north, sharing happy look every now and then and smiling cheerfully. Roger almost never took his hand off her thigh, once they were on the motorway.

"You can sleep."

She shook her head and squeezed his hand. At the dawn, they found the cottage, not really near the forest, but outside of a tiny village. The winter was beautiful here, big pillows of snow around the cottage, white frost on the windows and cold inside. They started fire in the fireplace and stood by it, to keep themselves warm. Roger stood behind her, his arms around the, his lips traveling around her neck.

"I need to tell you something." she whispered.

"Do tell."

She tilted her head, so he had easier access to her skin, but eventually she turned around. Her cheeks were pink from the cold, the fire and from what she was about the say.

"Last time somebody kissed me was in Czechia."

Roger looked utterly surprised at first, then observed her carefully.

"Okay?" He said uncertainly, he felt she hadn't finished.

"Just want you to know. It's been a while, since I trusted someone this much."

He smiled and nodded, they kissed and slowly moved to the bed. He took away her clothes slowly, inspecting her body, search for her sensitive spots and he was so gentle she couldn't even imagine it. She knew him for three months and she thought she knew him well. He was always considerate of her, empatic, always knew how to make her laugh.

Of course she heard abou his reputation of ladies man, but never saw any sign of that. But during those days, his stamina almost surprised her. During their week, they went out for a walk through winter's nature only three times and did a bit of shopping in the village, but other than that, they only ate and enjoyed sex. And the time flew by.

When Roger drove her home, he saw she's about to start crying. He also felt his throath tighten, it was harder to breath.

"You need to save the world. And when you do that and come back, I'll be here." he promised. She looked at him, pleading with her eyes, to tell her to stay. He wished hard for her to say she'd rather spent days and nights by having sex with him. But he also knew he's leaving for a tour in a two weeks and she'd stay here. He kissed her one last time, desperately and hungrily, before say quick and short word of goodbye. She ran into her flat and he drove to his house.

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