Summary: After what happened with Roger in Los Angeles, the Y/N quickly goes back to Seattle, and isn’t sure where to go from there. Meanwhile, Roger has problems with another girl, who threatens to get in the way of Y/N and Roger finally getting together.
Word Count: 2911
Warnings: Swearing, the usual
A/N: This has been asked for so much, and I really hope you all like this!! All the messages I got were super sweet so thank you! I didn’t proofread so excuse any mistakes please! Don’t forget to leave feedback in my inbox or by messaging me, anything helps!! Also my requests are always open! 🙂 Enjoy! Also it kind of switches between POV’s but you’ll see
The patter of the rain against your windows was loud, and was occasionally accompanied by a flash of lightning and a boom of thunder. The clock next to your bed read 11:02 AM.
It had been only two days since you returned home from Los Angeles, and since that return you’ve only moped around your apartment. It made your heart feel heavy whenever you thought about what happened with Roger. Despite the painful emotions that came with the memories of Los Angeles and the letter, they were all you could think about. You kept replaying it in your head, contemplating whether or not you should’ve run. After all, he chased after you and maybe would’ve said he loved you still, or maybe he would’ve said he didn’t care anymore. You felt guilt over the way you reacted and just left him standing there in that hotel lobby. Roger wanted to tell you something, but you freaked out and ran off.
You no longer had the letter with you, but you would recite bits and pieces to yourself. You just sat in bed all day in a depressive state. You looked around your messy bedroom and knew that it wasn’t healthy to be stuck like this. It was healthy to keep thinking about Roger, who didn’t love you like you loved him.
You got up out of your bed and put your messy hair into a somewhat neat bun. You were still in your pajamas, and you couldn’t imagine how awful you looked in the moment. You knew you had to move on, and you only knew one way how to.
The desk light shone brightly on the blank sheet of paper that now sat in front of you. You tapped the pen on the desk as you thought about what to write. All of the sudden you knew what to write, just as a light bulb would turn on in a cartoon. Once your pen started writing, there was no stopping it.
You smiled to yourself as you reread it to yourself, knowing that every word you wrote was true. You carefully placed it in an envelope, and wrote his address on it. You knew he wouldn’t be home for another week or so, but you felt you could wait another week after waiting for years to tell him.
Once you dropped the letter off at the post office, you felt like you get on with your life until he responded (If he responded, that is).
Sure enough, a week later, Roger walked up to his own door, and struggled with his keys to open his apartment, his hands full with his luggage. Connie, the girl from the hotel, trailed behind him. He didn’t know why he kept her around, honestly. Roger didn’t like her, she was too boring and quite a klutz. He barely wanted to bring her too his house, but she just kept pestering.
He couldn’t stop thinking about you and the last time he saw you, no matter how much he tried. Six months ago, he made sure to push every thought of you out of his head, because it was like salt in the wound every time he was reminded of you. Roger believed you rejected him altogether when he didn’t get a response to his letter.
With an aggressive tug at the door knob, it finally swung open, and he dropped all of his stuff on the ground. “Finally…” he murmured out. His eyes immediately landed on a framed photo you and him at one of his first gigs with Smile. That picture felt worlds ago…
“So this is your place then?” Connie said with a smirk on her face. “It’s nice I like it…”
“Yeah well don’t get too comfortable.” Roger scoffed. “You’re not staying here that long.”
The brunette rolled her eyes, “Come on don’t be such a dick. Why don’t you show me your bed.”
Roger pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. “Oh my god Connie, not now…” He sighed looking up to face her. “Can you get the mail or the other bags from downstairs or something, I need a moment.” He nearly yelled, annoyed with the girl.
“Whatever.” She huffed out, clearly annoyed with him, too.
Roger sat down on the couch, and was once again faced with the picture of you two. “Damn it.” He whispered, feeling the emotions of losing you all over again. He turned the picture away from him, and thought in the silence that filled his house.
In Roger’s pocket, the crumpled up letter gave you sat. He didn’t know what to with it now, and it was quite embarrassing to reread it. For the life of him, he couldn’t figure out why you’d come with an answer now…
Roger sat down on his couch and leaned his head back, and took a deep breath. Where did we go wrong? That single thought repeats itself over and over again in his mind. The pain, the feeling in his chest and stomach made him second guess sending the letter all those months ago. There was no going back. No do overs. And because of the timing, he had likely lost you forever. His fingers trembled around the cigarette as he began to light it. The smell and taste were just as bitter as he was.
Connie came back in a split second with the mail, a smile on her face. He could tell she was using him, but at this point he didn’t care, he just needed a distraction. “Did anything important come in the mail?” He said to her.
Connie swiftly looked through the many envelopes, and her eyes were narrowed when she laid eyes on one addressed to Roger from a Y/N Y/L/N. She remember that name, and she hated it. He’d talk about her every once in awhile, and even mumble her in name in his sleep. Connie felt jealous rise up, and she rolled her eyes at the thought of that girl. She was threatening everything Connie had done to get this close to Roger…
She took one glance at Roger, to see if he was paying attention to her, and then when he wasn’t, Connie discreetly shoved the letter in her purse. She sat down next to Roger on the couch and handed him the letters. “Mostly bills and everything, maybe a few letters from your friends.”
He skimmed the letters and then threw them on the coffee table after he felt there was nothing important. “We’re going out tonight, are you in?” He said, without even looking at her.
The brunette smiled and cuddled up against him. “Of course, I’m always in.”
Later that night, Roger was waiting for Connie to finish. He was honestly tired of this girl, but kept her around for company because the worst thing in the world is being lonely. She was still putting on her makeup, and he stood by the door, impatient. “Can you hurry up already? The damn thing will be almost over by the time you’re ready.” He yelled across the house.
“I can’t find my lipstick,” her voice rang from far away, “Can you check if it’s my purse?”
Roger rolled his eyes, but did so anyway. Nothing was in her purse except some money, her lipstick, and a piece of paper. As he pulled out the piece of paper to investigate, he frowned. He turned it over. His eyes widened as he read your name. Roger was confused at first, and then infuriated.
“Did you find it-” Connie said walking up, stopping once she saw the letter in his hand. “Oh.” Was all she said.
“What the fuck is this?” He held it up to her, not looking in her direction.
“I was going to give it to you, but I knew you were going to leave once-”
“What Y/N writes to me doesn’t concern you.” Roger said, his voice shaking with anger. He was gritting his teeth now, and he wanted to scream.
“Look I’m sorry but that Y/N bitch-”
“Don’t you ever call her that!” He seethed, snapping his head toward her. “Don’t even say her name. Get out of my house.”
Connie whined, “Roger, baby, please let me explain.”
“I said get the fuck out now!” Roger yelled at her, pointing aggressively to the door.
“Whatever, let me grab my things…” She mumbled, to the point of tears.
He walked closer to her, “No, I said get out!” Connie was clearly terrified, and headed toward the door with a quick shuffle.
Roger angrily swung the door open to his bedroom, grabbing her bags and heading towards the window. He slid it open and chucked her belongings out the window into the snow below. He picked up the picture frame on the end table and threw it at the door as hard as he could. He should’ve never been with Connie in the first place, the way you looked at him in that lobby was like a knife in the chest. He should’ve left Connie right then and there. Roger began to walk to the kitchen when he saw the picture of you and him on the floor, covered in shards of glass. He gently picked up, and smiled at it.
Roger looked at the crumpled envelope that he smashed when he was yelling at Connie, and his anger slowly melted away. It was written in red ink in your recognizable handwriting; another one of the things you did that he loved. His hands were shaking as he tore it open, and began reading.
Dear Roger,
I’m sorry to have gotten back to you about your letter so late. You must understand it wasn’t my intention to ignore you, but that it just happened. Your letter was stuck inside of an old magazine, and I hadn’t known it was there until the day I last saw you. But now, I’m writing my own letter, and I only hope that you receive this faster than I received yours.
You may be right. I do deserve someone who loves me with his entire heart, and thinks about me every second of the day. Someone who is constantly just wondering where I am, what I’m doing, who I’m with, and if I’m okay. I should be with someone who loves all of me, especially my flaws. But so you do, Rog. You deserve that someone too.
You deserve a girl who always is thinking about you, if even it hurts. Someone who counts down the seconds until they see you again. Someone who loves your stupid flaws, like the way you throw things when you get mad or how jealous you get. Someone who loves your dorky quirks and understands you. I don’t know if I’m that someone, honestly, that’s for you to decide. As for me, you will always be my someone.
When I got your letter I ran to you, but you didn’t even answer the door. I don’t want a repeat of that. It hurt so fucking much to know that I embarrassed myself and that you probably don’t even care anymore. I don’t want a repeat of that.
That’s why I’m writing my own letter, to avoid the heartbreak. If you want to be with that Connie girl, that’s okay. I’d understand I was too late. It’d hurt like hell, but I would understand.
I’m sorry I was afraid to tell you I loved you in the first place. But I have loved you since college and I will likely still love you, even if you break my heart.
This is our opportunity. Let’s stop being afraid and take the chance. Please don’t lose this letter like I did, and take care, Roger.
Love Ya,
Y/N
Roger couldn’t help but smile at the way you copied his “Love Ya.” He didn’t realize it, but he was nearly crying, and he wasn’t a super emotional person in the first place. He put the letter down and stood in the silence of his own home.
Back in Seattle, you sat behind the counter at the hotel you managed. It was dry, cold day that still had dark clouds looming above. It had been a particularly slow day, with only a few people checking in. You had just checked in someone wearing a Queen shirt, bringing your thoughts to Roger and the whole letter ordeal. Almost lost in thought, you realized your shift was over and you should get home. You grabbed your brightly-colored umbrella and exited the building, with the blonde drummer still occupying your thoughts. You still felt hopelessly in love with him, and upon that realization, you let out a heavy sigh, your breath appearing in front of you.
As a drop of crystal-clear water appeared on your face, you smiled to yourself. The rain was something that stopped your thoughts from buzzing, calmed you, but at the same time excited you. The waves of the salty liquid washed the pavement creating a melancholic song. Waiting for the rain to wash all of the misery away, you stood there, your gaze burning into the horizon, staring at the beauty of the upcoming storm and the crying clouds. You took in a breath of the fresh, crisp winter air, and found yourself calmer. You quickly got in your little red car to avoid getting anymore soaked.
Once you got home, you made yourself some tea, put on your favorite vinyl, and enjoyed watching the rain fall on the city below. You felt peaceful and happy for the first time since Los Angeles, and with that thought you smiled to yourself.
A soft knock on the door brought out of your thoughts. “Just a second!” You called out to the person, putting the cup of tea down on your coffee table, and standing up from your comfortable spot on the couch.You opened the door without looking up. “Sorry I look like such a mess it’s just-” You stopped when you were finally met with those beautiful blue eyes that you fell in love with all those years.
Roger was soaking wet, slightly shivering, and his hair a mess. “Why…” You cleared your throat, trying to stop the tears that were threatening to spill. “What’re you doing here.”
Without saying a word, he reached into the pocket of his coat, and pulled out the opened envelope addressed to him. Your eyes fell to what he was holding, and your mouth fell open. “I’m sorry.” was all you said, it came out as whisper.
He laughed slightly. “What are you sorry about? I’m the one who had some random girl answer the door.” Roger saw your eyes start to get misty. He titled your chin up with his hand. “Hey, don’t be sorry.” He pulled you in for a hug, and you closed your eyes shut, and just took in the moment.
You open your eyes and frowned. “Roger, you’re soaking wet.” You recoiled. “How long were you out there?”
He shrugged. “About a half hour… I didn’t know what to say when I saw you.”
“Roger! You could’ve caught a cold! Look at you your freezing!” You exclaimed. Roger only chuckled at your reaction.
“I love you.” He blurted out, smiling at you. You just stared up at him, not sure what to say. Roger had written it on paper before, but now here he was, actually saying it to you. Slowly, he presses his lips to yours. It’s soft and gentle, and maybe there’s no fireworks or sparks, but it’s better than that – it’s a wave of warmth that fills you up, spilling out from your heart and the warmth of Roger’s lips on yours and rushing to every corner of your body: the cracks in between your toes, the crooks of his elbows, the tips of his ears. Every inch of your body is saturated with love.
You pulled away with a smile, and grabbed his hands. “I love you, too, Rog, but you’re shivering please let me make you some tea. Come inside and you can tell me all about your tour.” You said, still beaming.
Roger rolled his eyes playfully, “Well how can I say no now?”
You walked more into your apartment, and made him a cup of hot chocolate while he sat at your counter. He was telling you all about the shows and the crazy crowds of fans; both which he adored. You turned around and gave him a good look, admiring how happy you were that everything worked out in the end. “Rog,” you interrupted his story.
“Yeah?” Roger looked up at you with a cute smile on his face, and you almost melted right then and there.
“I really missed you…” You said, and couldn’t help but grin.
He walked over to you, wrapped his arms around you and murmured, “I really missed you, too.” You gave him a quick peck on the cheek, and you couldn’t ask for more. Here Roger Taylor was, the boy you deserved, with Y/N Y/L/N, the girl he deserved.
andtheytoldustotellyouhello 