Out Of Time ➳ Roger Taylor [Completed]

Official Epilogue

all right, my loves! this is the final official epilogue for out of time! 

saying that, i have some really wonderful news to share. out of time has been chosen by a publisher to be turned into a proper book!! the entire process is still in the works, and i am so excited to have rewritten this love story in an even better and original way. i hope all of you who liked it, would be excited for the real one, when it comes out ! if you're interested to be on the mailing list, for all updates regarding the pre-orders, and publishing, do sign yourself up on this little form i created! i love you all so much.

sign up here: https://forms.gle/KAeVz1NKH5jVWPrp7

with that, i leave you with this short but hopefully satisfying epilogue. happy reading.

It had been a year since the events that changed your life forever.

Things were still the same, yet different. You'd adjusted back to your life, things were almost good. After the fated night when your mother told you the truth, and you got your hands on the most precious thing in the world, you'd tried to move on. The Polaroid pictures were still with you, you would cherish them till your last breath. There was a special place in your drawer, and in your heart for those pictures. Pictures that shouldn't have existed, but did. Pictures that defied the laws of space and time to be alive. Those pictures, and the heavy ring on your finger did a satisfactory job of filling the emptiness in your heart.

You walked down to Freddie's memorial site, a bouquet of daffodils in your hand, stuck together with a purple ribbon. It had become a habit now, coming here every night you could, mostly Saturdays after work. The cemetery was almost never open, and you wondered why that was.

You looked at the padlock, and headed over to the side, tossing your backpack over the fence, and tucking the flowers in through the metal bars. You climbed over, your body used to the movement by now, knowing every step you had to take. You jumped over the top, your boots landing on the bottom with a heavy crunch. You treaded lightly over the autumn leaves, humming your favorite song as you made your way to Freddie's grave.

Somebody had already beat you to it.

He was standing there, with his back to you, a bouquet of daffodils in his hand, staring fondly at the grave ahead.

You could see his broad back, and shoulders draped underneath a flight jacket, the lock for the pendant hanging at the nape of his neck, and his hair stuffed under a cap.

You felt your heart drop into your stomach. Your next step alerted him of your presence, your shoe crushing the autumn leaves beneath with a loud crunch.

He jumped, startled and turned around.

You would have recognized those eyes anywhere.

You felt him take in a breath, as his eyes roamed over you.

You did the same, feeling your brain blanking out.

He stared at you, for another minute or so, his eyes falling down to the bouquet in your hands, and you thought neither of you would ever speak and be engulfed in this awkward silence forever until he cleared his throat loudly, and said "I'm pretty sure we've met before"

For a second, you thought he'd forgotten you, but then you saw the twinkle in his eyes and the spirited, soft smile tugging at his lips. You felt like you were back in the 1970s, your current demeanor slipping away into playfulness.

"I don't know, have we?" You asked, striding up to him "I don't usually associate with men your age"

He laughed, a breathy, joyous, musical sound "Ouch, I'm wounded"