really like you

4.2K 40 22
                                    

i'm hiding in my bathroom from my abusive boyfriend, callum and i'm terrified. he'd come home from the pub absolutely shit faced and out of now where he starts hitting me and all sorts.

~flashback~
"you're such a bitch you know that?" callum shouts at me, charging through the front door of our little apartment.
"what the hell!? what did i do?" i exclaim.
"you never spend time with me and you act like i'm invisible all the time!" he shouts.
"um, hold up, who's the one that makes you every meal every day? who's the one who does your laundry, who cleans up after you, who-"
"alright alright i didn't ask for a pep talk!" he cuts me off. suddenly, he grabs my arm as tightly as he can and hits me in the face, a bruise soon forming on the apple of my cheek and i see a large, red hand mark on my arm.
"you do shit for me y/n!"
"that's where you're wrong!" i shout back. that's when he hits me again, punching me on my stomach.
"ow, fuck!" i wince at the pain. i then get out of his grip and run to the bathroom, locking myself in.

~present day~
"open the fucking door y/n!" callum shouts outside of the bathroom. i don't reply and try to climb out of the window. it wasn't too small to climb out of, but it was lucky i was small enough to just get through.

i start running. i don't know where to, but i needed to get away from that place. god knows what else he would have done to me. i look back to see if he's following me and i bump into someone.

"fuck i'm so sorry" i say breathlessly.
"it's oka- woah what happened to you?" the man says as soon as he sees my face. "sorry that was rude"
"it's okay" i tell him. this wasn't the time, but i couldn't help but examine his face and see how gorgeous he was. he had ocean blue eyes, thin lips, a small, pointy nose and blonde, long hair. he was also small, like me, but not much taller than me.

"my boyfriend came home drunk as fuck and started hitting me and telling me that i never do anything for him. i managed to escape out of the bathroom window."
"i'm sorry that happened" he says to me.
"no need to apologise, i probably deserve it anyway."
"that's not true, come on i'll take you to my house and get you cleaned up. your lip is bleeding like mad." he says. i nod and start to walk with him.

"what's your name anyway?" i ask him.
"oh, fuck yeah, forgot about that." he chuckles. "roger. roger taylor. and you?"
"y/f/n y/m/n y/l/n." you tell roger.
"that's a pretty name" he says, his compliment making me blush.
"what's your middle name? i love to know peoples middle names, i don't know why" i laugh.
"fair enough, it's meddows, roger meddows taylor."
"that's a pretty name too." i smile.
"why thank you" he says with a smile.

we get to rogers house and i sit on the sofa while he gets his first aid kit. i look around the living room, he has a record player with probably every vinyl you could have. he had loads and i mean loads, there were lots of beer cans scattered on the coffee table in front of me, companied with an ash tray and the thing that stood out to me the most. a drum kit.

he comes back with the first aid kit and sets it on the coffee table, getting things out of it to clean my face.
"sorry about the mess, i'm not one to tidy." he chuckles.
"it's okay, i see you play the drums?" i ask, referring to his drum kit.
"oh yeah! it's my life, i love drumming."
"nice, i love to play the piano, we could be a duo" i joke.
"drums and piano on their own? would sound a bit weird wouldn't it, although it wouldn't be a bad idea being a duo." roger says, cleaning my face up in which i just hum in response.

roger finishes cleaning my face up, seeing to the bruises too.
"right, all done!" he says. i look into his gorgeous blue eyes and kiss him on the lips. i realise what i'm doing and pull back immediately.
"i- i'm so sorry" i stutter, "i hardly know you to be kissing you." roger takes me by surprise by kissing me this time and i kiss back.
"it's okay love, i really like you." he says.
"i really like you too, roger."
———————————————-
words: 794

i don't know why, but writing about the first aid kit reminded me of when people used to have a bag of ice in primary school when you had hurt yourself and you had been sent to the medical room.

i don't know if anyone else had that when they were or while they're in primary school, but everyone in my primary pretended to hurt themselves just to get a bag of ice including me lmao.

roger taylor imagines Where stories live. Discover now