BILLET-DOUX ✦ CLASSIC ROCK

13 - pete townshend ²

Requested by Magiuneration ! Some wintertime angst for y'all. My apologies for the delay, dear, I just couldn't seem to sit down and write!
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It had been the first winter in nearly three years that rain came down in buckets rather than snow. The streets were soaked with an icy sludge that slipped underfoot and left slick patches for people to skid on in passing.

Since the weather was so dismal, you had barely bothered to go out. The air was frigid and the rain blew icy cold daggers across your cheeks. You only left your flat for work and for food, suffering long walks through the downpour with only a rickety umbrella to cover you.

Most of these trips were done alone. It was the first time Pete had ever left your side for extended periods of time since you two had been dating. You felt his absence like an amputation, wishing he would return home from tour as quick as humanly possible. But this was his dream, and you weren't about to stand in his way.

Pete had called you a handful of times in the months that he was gone, short and staticky with his voice all garbled up from the distance between you. He had sent a few postcards from the cities The Who had played in, and you kept them hanging up on the refrigerator to look at each morning.

His messy cursive was scrawled on the back of each one. Typically soft, sweet things. Most of them were Pete letting you know that he missed you and that he loved you – he was counting down the hours until you would see each other again. If a concert went good, he let you know. If one went bad, Pete would quickly gloss over it.

You made sure to give him plenty of encouragement in your return letters, assuring him of his brilliance, his talent and capabilities.

After a sending some such letter, you had gotten a response in a matter of weeks. A postcard with a picture of the Colosseum on the front and writing to fit the whole back of the card, squeezed into every crevice.

Y/N,
We're in Rome, as you can see. I'm missing you more than ever before. Moon keeps trying to get us out looking for birds, but I couldn't be more bothered. You're the only one for me. After Rome, we're to head back north (back to London!) and should hit Paris next. It's a right pity you can't be there with me – it is the city of love, isn't it?

Not to worry, I'll make it up to you once I come home. We'll be able to take a vacation of our own to Paris (what do you think? Romantic enough for the two of us?) and enjoy some private time together.

If you were interested, our last show was terrific – not being sarcastic! You give such good luck with your letters, I keep them in my pockets wherever I go. The others think it's funny, but they're just jealous they don't have someone as wonderful as you to tend to them.

Keep a look out for my Paris card. I hope to see you ASAP!
Pete

The rest of the words hadn't managed to fit on the final edge of the paper, and Pete had to curl the letters around a corner for it to be legible. You smiled, brushing your fingers over the ink as if touching Pete himself. In a way, you were.

You hung the Colosseum postcard up with the rest on the fridge door, sighing at the rain pattering against the kitchen window. It reflected your gloomy mood perfectly. You wanted nothing more than to have Pete at your side, brushing knees and elbows at the table as you took your morning tea.