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bijouxcarys · 2 days

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𝐓𝐨 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐒𝐨 𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐲 (𝐑𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐭 𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐅𝐚𝐧𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧)

Masterlist

To Love So Completely Masterlist

Summary: Sometimes the pain of what should never have been, opens your eyes to what can be.

Note: Biggest apologies for the wait. Life has been hectic. Mind has been fucked. This chapter is much longer, just to make up for the wait. I sincerely hope you all enjoy <3

Tag list: @celestial-dragoness @chromations @callmethehunter @firethatgrewsolow @friccinfricks @angrychicksposts @dzdndcnfsd @ourshadowstallerthanoursoul @m-faithfull @tangerine1969 @inanebula @strsmn

𝙏𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙞𝙨 𝙙𝙚𝙙𝙞𝙘𝙖𝙩𝙚𝙙 𝙩𝙤 𝘼𝙣𝙟𝙖; 𝙢𝙮 𝙨𝙬𝙚𝙚𝙩 𝙜𝙞𝙧𝙡. 𝙄 𝙝𝙤𝙥𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙚𝙣𝙟𝙤𝙮 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙬𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙖𝙧𝙚 ♡

“Ya sure you’re alright in the back?” John peered around the passenger seat.

Elena nodded, closing her eyes as she rested her flushed head against the cool glass of the window. She could hear the gear shift croaking as Robert sent the car into drive, pulling away from the Bonham house.

She knew her first nightly venture would be a struggle; too many memories painfully associated themselves with the simple act. But Robert had been so kind… So excited for this moment. There wasn’t a chance in Hell that Elena was going to deny him of this night, much less pull out at the last minute.

Besides, she was looking forward to it. Spending time with John and Robert together was a fargone memory by this point, and she missed those times like a teenager longing for a childhood toy. It was a case of willing her brain to suppress past events, to allow her to enjoy living her life as she’d been stripped of it for at least a year.

The peculiar thing? She’d been fine all day. In fact, John wasn’t sure when the last time he’d seen Elena so excited for something. Of course, he knew it was Robert—and he took no offence to it; it was about time she allowed herself to see him how he saw her. She’d repressed it for long enough, at least in John’s eyes. He wasn’t so ignorant as to ignore how Robert’s presence the past couple of weeks had improved her mood, even if only for a few minutes. And for Robert? Well… Pining wasn’t a strong enough word.

Elena had managed to keep her emotions in check throughout the day, but as soon as she had settled into the backseat of Robert’s car, that was when the nerves crept in like unwelcome visitors. The weight of the evening’s plans bore down on her, the apprehension thick in the confined space of the car.

Don’t freak out…

Don’t make it a big deal…

You’ve done this plenty of times before…

You’ll be fine.

But what if–

No, stop it.

What if he’s ther–

He won’t be.

What if he is, though?

John and Robert will be with me, shut up.

They’ll kill him, though.

Shut the fuck up!

Robert kept the volume on the radio at a modest level, not just for the sake of his and John’s conversation but also to ensure the soft melodies wouldn’t drown out the presence of Elena in the backseat. After all, why listen to anything other than the enchanting silence that accompanied the ethereal being occupying his car?

She remained mostly quiet, a certain grace that seemed to fill the space without uttering a word. Robert had offered her a warm smile when she settled into the back, momentarily struck dumb by her beauty. However, her reluctance to engage in any conversation herself only seemed to amplify the allure. She simply existed, and that was enough to captivate Robert.

Throughout the journey, Elena shifted in her seat, eventually resting her head against the back of the passenger seat, perched on the edge of her own. It was a subtle attempt to distance herself from the situation, a silent protest against the inevitable. The guilt of her reluctance weighed heavily on her, like an unspoken burden she was bearing on the two men in the front.

“El?”

“Hm?” Her response was a soft murmur, her eyes flickering towards John.

“Did you hear what I said?” he asked, turning partially in his seat to look back at her. She simply shook her head, mumbling an apology. “I asked if The George Inn was okay?”

Despite her familiarity with the area, the mention of The George Inn seemed foreign to her. She stared blankly for a moment before nodding slowly.

“We can go somewhere else if you’d prefer, luv,” Robert interjected, stealing a glance over his shoulder. The inability to fully look at her was a form of torture.

“No, it’s… it’s okay. The George is fine,” Elena replied, her voice barely above a whisper. She lifted her gaze to meet Robert’s finding a fleeting moment of respite before he returned his focus to the road, his eyes occasionally flickering to the rear-view mirror.

John couldn’t shake the feeling that The George Inn might not be the ideal choice, but he trusted Elena’s judgement. With a reassuring smile, he turned back to face the front, allowing the silence to settle once more, with the exception of an Elvis tune gracing the atmosphere.

Robert navigated the streets with ease, his familiarity with the city evident in the way he effortlessly manoeuvred through traffic. Birmingham was a city of transition, with the decline of traditional industries giving way to new opportunities—something Elena had also unfortunately missed out on.

As they approached The George Inn, the streets became quieter, the buzz of the city fading into the background. The pub itself was a charming sight, its brick exterior adorned with hanging flower baskets. A sign creaked in the wind, proudly declaring the establishment’s long history.

Robert pulled into the pub’s car park, the gravel crunching beneath the tires as they came to a stop. The scent of freshly-cut grass mingled with the faint aroma of ale, wafting from an open window.

“Aaand… We’re ‘ere,” Robert announced, turning off the engine. He glanced back at Elena, a faint smile playing on his lips. “Ready for a pint, me.”

Elena returned the smile to the best of her ability, glad that she was able to exit the car to take a moment to breathe in the crisp air.

“Ya not the only one, mate,” John quipped, stretching out his arms with an exaggerated groan. Robert came around the car, fingers tucked into the pockets of his jeans as he joined John and Elena towards the welcoming glow of The George Inn. The sounds of lively chatter and clinking glasses were muffled, but inviting.

It was bustling with activity, the dimly-lit interior filled with cosy nooks and crannies. A fire crackled in the hearth, casting a warm glow over the room. They found a table in a corner, away from much of the lively crowd, and settled in.

As expected, Elena’s nerves were still fraying. She sat with John, patiently waiting for Robert to return with the first round of drinks. Just get half a pint in ya, girl, you’ll be fine…

“Are you sure you’re alright, El? I can always take you back to the house if ya don’t want to be h–”

“John, I’m fine. Honestly, it’s okay. It’s just… weird being out,” she sighed, resting on her arms on top of the table. She watched Robert from afar, easily spotting him along the line of patrons waiting to be served. He was one of the taller ones, and definitely the most intricately dressed. Whilst she felt safe with John, she knew what he was like when drunk, so found herself to be relieved at the blonde reminder at the other end of the pub that she wouldn’t have to do this alone.

“Alright, well, you tell me if you need a breather, or if you need to go, yeah?” John was stern, meaning every syllable he uttered. Elena smiled, leaning into him to give him a small nudge of endearment.

“I’ll let you know if you’re not too wankered,” she teased.

He rolled his eyes, nudging her back. “I try to be nice, and this is how you treat me…”

“I’m being realistic, Bon-Bon,” she smirked, giving him a knowing look. “But I know you care… You don’t have to remind me,” she dropped her voice to a whisper, softening her tone.

Once Robert brought the first round to the table, John wasted no time in necking half of his pint, indulging in the night like a bee to honey. Elena fidgeted with the edge of her glass, her fingers tracing the condensation that had formed on the cold surface. Robert paced himself with his drinks, fully knowing he was the designated driver for the evening.

“So,” Robert began, setting his half-pint glass on the table and leaning back in his chair. “You been ‘ere before, Elena?”

Elena glanced around the pub, taking in the rustic charm of the exposed beams and worn wooden tables. “Don’t think so,” she shook her head, offering a faint smile. “Been in the area, though.”

“D’ya like it?”

“Yeah, it’s nice in here.”

John chuckled, raising his glass in agreement. “Aye, there’s nothing quite like a good old English pub.”

Elena snorted at her best friend’s enthusiasm, watching on as he downed the rest of his pint with little struggle. “Bloody hell, Bon, calm down.”

“No way!” he slammed his glass down with a vivacious laugh. “First night I’ve had since tour where I can drink as much as I want without worrying about driving back.”

She rolled her eyes, glancing at Robert with an amused smirk. “How do you cope?”

“‘Ey, I’ve only had to put up with it for 4 years, you’re pushing 17!” Robert cackled, flipping his hair back as he looked at his bandmate.

Elena wasn’t expecting Robert to have remembered a detail like that; she’d told him the age she met John, but that was 4 years before, and she never mentioned the length of time. Which could only mean one thing to her… he’d thought about it more than was required, and he made sure to keep it noted in that mysterious brain of his.

The realisation left her momentarily stumped, seemingly stuck on his features as he bantered with John across the table. A small involuntary smile played on her lips, that same tingling in her stomach she experienced at rehearsal resurfacing with a steadfast vigour.

Why have I never noticed that little freckle on his nose before?

Her eyes dropped to his jumper, cosy and woolly as it encased his body—oh, his chest is quite… broad, isn’t it? Perhaps it was the small buzz she was getting from nearly finishing her first pint, but as she continued to survey him without his knowing, the threat of her past diminished to a mere signal in the back of her brain, and no longer had a hold on her demeanour.

He’s… beautiful…

John was on another one of his little rants about primary schools enforcing religion on the students, complaining to Robert about the school he and Elena attended making them sing hymn after hymn morning after morning for the entire 7 years they were there.

Robert couldn’t help but chuckle, biting back a grin at the thought of a little Elena rebelling, rolling her eyes, being everything he knew she was deep down. The her he knew 2 years before. Not that he disagreed; had he been at the same school with the duo, he would have joined in with the rebellion.

“Oh, there was this one time,” John began, wheezing and cackling at the memory, “We were singing… fuck, what was it… I think it was All Things Bright And Beautiful, or some bollocks like that—anyway, me and El were sitting on the benches at the back, ye, all that…” His demeanour had calmed already, enjoying the alcohol settling.

“El insisted on not singing a word. Like, she was really adamant that they weren’t goin’ to make her sing that shit.” He pointed in her direction. “Teacher started on her, didn’t he? Prick—he was a weirdo, that bloke… Started sayin’ all this crap about her going to Hell ‘cuz she weren’t singin’.”

The blonde rolled his eyes, sipping his drink. As he briefly glanced in Elena’s direction, he noticed it. Her eyes. Scoping him out. A little smile on her face. Much like the instincts he fought every time she was near him.

So cute…

“Mhm,” Robert nodded along with John, not drawing attention to the fact he had caught her looking at him.

“So, this one…” John suddenly reached out to grab Elena’s shoulder, making her jump in her seat and snap her out of her thoughts. “This one!” He shook her a bit. “Turned ‘round… and said… to this… wanker…” John leaned forward, as though the teacher in question were to catch them spilling primary school secrets, before putting on the best Northern accent he could to imitate her. “Just as long as you won’t be there, Mr Gill.”

John broke out into unstoppable laughter, holding his stomach. Robert’s brows raised, and he whipped his head around to look at Elena with a surprised expression. “Did ya?” he asked through a chortle.

Biting her lip, Elena felt her cheeks heat up and embarrassment flood her senses. She nodded, squeezing her eyes shut. “Yes… Yes, I did say that, didn’t I?” she cringed, looking at John. “That was bad, wasn’t it?”

“No! The arsehole had it coming!” John praised her, howling.

“He did…” Elena agreed, face bright red, thanks to the embarrassing childhood story combined with the alcohol slowly settling into her system. Robert couldn’t tear his eyes away from her as she grinned ear-to-ear, the familiar spark igniting in his gut whenever he had the chance to witness her smiling form. And he hadn’t seen it quite this bright in a long, long time.

As the night progressed, Elena felt more and more comfortable sitting around this table, in a crowded environment. However, she could attribute that to the bubbly as she finished her second pint. It was as if small fragments, piece by piece, were adhering back together, painting a much missed mirage of her life before David.

“Another round, ye?” John announced, rising from the table. “Same for you, El?” he asked, pointing at her with an air of expectancy.

“Ye–wait, no!” she quickly stopped herself, pressing her lips together. “Uh, maybe just a half this time? Don’t want to get wankered, unlike some.” She gave him a pointed look, earning a playful huff of dismissal from the drummer that Elena took as him noting her request, before he looked at Robert.

“Gimme a shandy, Bonz.”

“Bloody shandy…” he said, shaking his head. “Ye, alright,” he accepted, before heading in the direction of the bar, still mumbling to himself about Robert’s choice for the evening.

“You want one, Elena?” Robert held out his packet of Marlboros, one dangling unlit from his lips. Accepting the offer, she took one from the pack, placing it between her lips. It was almost instinctual, the way she leaned into Robert for him to strike a match and light the cigarette.

Instead of focusing her eyes on the cig, this time, she kept her gaze locked onto his. So close to him… Oh, why couldn’t I have noticed him 3 years ago?

In an unconscious attempt to keep him close to her, Elena brought her hand up to cast a barely-there hold on his wrist, using her other hand to shield the match’s flame from any stray draft. And as the two parted, she gently brushed her thumb over his knuckles.

And… there’s the alcohol-induced confidence…

They don’t call it Dutch courage for nothing, after all…

“How ‘ave you been, luv?” Robert asked, sitting forward and folding his arms on top of the table. Even with his jumper, you could see the outlines of his toned build. Elena was almost distracted.

“Um… Well,” she sighed, “I’ve been better, but…” She stopped, looking directly into Robert’s vibrant eyes, before she lowered her voice. “I’ve definitely been worse… Anyway, enough about me, what about you? Mr Rockstar,” she smirked.

Through a bashful grin, Robert tipped some of the fag ash into the tray in the centre of the table. “Mr Rockstar…” he repeated, seemingly pondering the name for a moment. “‘S that all I am to you now, eh?” He glanced at her, lifting the cigarette up to his lips.

Elena smiled, rolling her eyes. “No, and you know that.” She shook her head. “It’s just that… from what Bon’s been telling me, you’ve done quite alright for yourselves.”

“Guess ya could say that, ye,” he shrugged nonchalantly.

“Don’t leave any room for modesty, do ya?” she lightly jested.

“I’m a very humble lad, Elena. I just so happen to also be in a very successful band at the same time,” he volleyed, shooting her a signature smirk.

The dimple…

Whilst Elena appreciated the humour in their conversation, it didn’t stop the guilt of not seeing Led Zeppelin live, not once, since their formation and official name change from The New Yardbirds.

In fact, the ability to name more than a couple of songs eluded her more than she cared to admit.

“But, seriously?” Robert continued, eyes still stuck on her as she inhaled the smoke from her cigarette. “I think we’ve got it. We’re actually doing it!” His eyes lit up, and somewhere in the back of his mind, he hoped that Elena would find the prospect attractive—better yet, the idea of Elena being proud of him.

It seemed the Gods above had listened carefully to Robert’s inner monologue, as Elena chimed those exact words.

“That’s good! I’m proud of you–all of you,” she emphasised, heat rising in her cheeks by the second. “When do you go back on tour?”

“June,” Robert replied with an unrestrained grin on his face. He spoke through a drag of his cigarette, narrowing his eyes a little in thought. “Gives us a bit of time to reset.”

“It must be draining,” Elena casually commented, watching his hand as he tipped his ash. “I couldn’t do something like that, anyway.”

“Ah, ya get used to it eventually…” Robert shrugged his shoulders. “Just happy to be back at the farm, spend time with Strider–”

“Oh my God!” Elena cut him off, gasping and reaching out to hold onto his arm. “I still need to see the farm, and Strider!” Robert chuckled, turning his arm over to playfully press his palm against hers.

“I told yer like a year ago that ya need to come over!” he laughed, looking down at their hands. “I always said you’d love it there–barely anythin’ around.” He emphasised with a nod of his head in Elena’s direction.

She let out a whine, dropping her head briefly, almost catching her hair on her cigarette in the process. “Why the fuck didn’t I do something about that… twat any sooner?”

Robert’s face dropped a bit, but it didn’t stop him from carefully curling his fingers upwards so that hers thread through gently. He found himself having to steady his breathing ever so slightly upon feeling her warm skin completely flush against his; her hand so delicate in comparison to his. He never wanted to let her go.

“Pints, pints, pints, pints,” proclaimed John as he came barreling back over to the table with the three drinks skillfully held between his hands. And instead of pulling away from Elena, Robert kept his cigarette between his lips as he reached out for his shandy, nodding and thanking John in the process. John was almost too intoxicated to take note of the pair’s hands settled atop the table, in plain view. Almost.

Though he didn’t mention it, he most definitely saw his friends sitting closer to each other than when he left, with their hands locked together. What the fuck happened whilst I was gone?

For a moment, Elena felt the night would end successfully — that just maybe it would be the event that snaps her out of the fear she’d garnered of the outside world. The fear of mistepping; you’re doing this wrong, you said the wrong thing, you’re being unreasonable, stop doing this, stop doing that…

Even as two girls, clearly under the influence and flustered, came stumbling over in their sudden recognition of the two growing rockstars sat with Elena, she didn’t feel as inadequate as she expected to. Whilst Robert did release her hand to give attention to the two females, putting on a standard act of charm and wit, he didn’t preposition them, and he most certainly didn’t forget that Elena was there.

In fact, Elena had convinced herself that was it for the evening; that the two of them holding hands—something a teenager would get giddy over—would be the closest she’d ever get to him, and that it would be a standalone incident. But as Robert sent the two intoxicated girls on their way, his focus was immediately back on her. Whilst he didn’t look directly at her, only laughed with John about the interaction, he did take her hand back in his.

He even sent her a smile of reassurance, as though he never even had to let go of her. And for a moment, she wished he wouldn’t.

If only fate would be so kind.

In the midst of her long-awaited comfort, hand still locked in its warm embrace with Robert’s, Elena noticed John’s face grew cold. A hard stare piercing the atmosphere like a bayonet. They were halfway through a conversation, all smiles, but now it was like the drummer had switched personalities completely.

Only an earthquake, or some magnanimous natural disaster could interrupt John Bonham from the jolly flow of a night out. The destructive force of a hurricane stood miniscule in comparison to the subject of John’s harsh glare as Elena followed its course.

David.

Her head snapped back in the direction of her best friend, a warning glare on her face. “John, don’t–”

“Bastard…” John spat under his breath, brows narrowing to cast an ominous shadow over his eyes. His knuckles whitened as his grip on his glass tightened. “Fuckin’ prat, look at ‘im…”

“Bonz,” Robert leaned to the side a bit, attempting to interrupt John’s line of sight. Of course he also wanted to go over to the twat and knock his teeth out. He knew deep down that this man must have done something serious for Elena’s demeanour to change so much in a quick instance. Looking at her, he instantly noticed the way she hunched her shoulders, the palm of her hand against his becoming clammy, and the way she pleadingly looked at John, silently begging him not to do anything stupid.

John’s heart had sped up to a rapid pace, tunnel vision denying him of seeing his two friends’ desperate faces. He was zoned in on one person, and one person only. Inhibitions gone. Cares dashed.

It all came crashing down when David’s gaze caught him for a split moment.

“Ye, what you lookin’ at, ya mop-head cunt?” John tilted his head back, as if challenging him. Even though David couldn’t hear him over the chatter of the pub, he could definitely tell that it was aimed at him. David swiftly looked away, engaging in conversation with his own group of friends, friends Elena had seen many times before, and friends that had become the closest thing to friends that she could actually see whilst stuck in that relationship.

“John,” Elena snapped a little firmer, taking her hand away from Robert’s. “Stop it.”

“Nah, look at ‘im,” John huffed. “‘Avin the time of his life after treatin’ you the way he did.”

“Bonz, drop it, mate,” Robert sided with Elena, though he understood the anger bubbling up inside John’s chest. “‘S not worth it.”

Before either Robert or Elena could process it, John had shot up from his seat, clearing his throat and straightening out his jacket. Then he was gone. Crossed the distance of the pub, in the direction of David.

“Fuck,” Robert mumbled under his breath, before turning in his seat to watch as John barrelled over to David, fists clenched at his sides. He had his hands ready to push himself up if things got out of hand, which nobody was sure whether that would happen. Elena stayed frozen at her seat, eyes glued to the scene unfolding, physically unable to do anything to stop it.

The pair were just waiting for something—anything. The tension was insurmountable. John was in David’s face, nostrils flared as he spat what seemed like venomous words; they were practically inaudible from their place across the pub. But it was when David delivered a sharp nudge against John’s shoulders with his hands that things escalated.

John didn’t hold back as he swung his arm around to land a hit on David, the same replicated by the latter. They stumbled backwards, knocking drinks over, causing patrons to get up from their seats to avoid being crushed by the two fighting men.

Elena sent an alarmed glance towards Robert, who took it as a sign that they needed to intervene before their friend spent the night in jail. She followed the blonde’s lead, sticking behind him as they rushed to grab John.

“-does it?! It make ya feel good, makin’ girls feel like shit, eh?!” John yelled, his jacket splattered in what was assumed to be beer. Robert was able to push through the gathering crowd easier than Elena was, and she could hear him calling to him, grasping at his clothing in an earnest attempt to pull him away.

Eventually, Elena managed to squeeze past people, hoping to be able to convince John to drop it and leave it alone. But as soon as she got to his side, joining Robert in pulling at him, the group stumbled, sending David careening back into Elena, his elbow connecting with the side of her head. Losing her balance, she fell back into a table, knocking more drinks over. However, before she could apologise to the people whose nights they had ruined, a familiar blonde head of hair swooped in front of her, creating a blockade between herself and David.

Even if David hadn’t elbowed Elena intentionally, seeing her take a hit from that man sent Robert into a rage. Uncharacteristically puffing his chest with anger rather than the intention to swoon and peacock his way around a stage in front of crowds of people. His brows were narrowed as John’s were earlier, and he too sent a harsh shove against David, catching him off-guard.

“Oi! That’s enough!”

Shouts could be heard from those working the night shift, and it became clearer that they should leave, for their own sakes. Elena reached out to grab at Robert’s jumper, turning him around. “We need to go,” she let him know, nodding her head in the relative direction of displeased shouts.

Robert simply nodded, understanding, before spinning to grasp John by the back of his collar, using all his energy to drag him away from the chaos, practically kicking and screaming. Insults continued to spout from his mouth, his drunken state making each one more damning than the last.

“Pack it in and walk!” Elena snapped in John’s direction through clenched teeth, helping Robert in taking him outside and towards Robert’s car.

“Bloody hell, Bonz,” Robert huffed, running his free hand over his face. He couldn’t be too mad at him; if he matched the level of intoxication John was at, he may have just done the exact same thing.

The trio were mere inches from the car when John’s knees gave out, making Robert and Elena’s job ten times more difficult. Before they could process it, the drummer had doubled over, the events taking a toll on his body as he regurgitated the recent contents of his stomach, which mostly consisted of booze.

“Of course,” Elena sighed, patting John on the back as he coughed and sputtered beside Robert’s car. She lifted her gaze up to Robert, rolling her eyes in a light-hearted attempt to pull the heavy atmosphere back up again.

“Oi, don’t you get my shoes, mate,” Robert warned, shuffling to the side to help his friend into the back of the car. Before he settled in, John grabbed a hold of Elena’s sleeve, and stared up at her with bloodshot eyes.

“I love you,” he drawled, tightening his grip on her.

“I know,” she responded with a tone akin to that you’d use on Jason.

“Thank you,” he continued.

“That’s alright, just move your legs so we can put you in the car properl–”

“You’re my best friends…” John furrowed his eyebrows, almost on the verge of drunken tears as he decided to hold onto Robert’s sleeve with his other hand, pulling him closer to the car so the two were pressed together, side by side. “And you two are just…” He seemed to lose his ability to form a coherent sentence, and just let out an exasperated groan. “I mean you two…” He shut his eyes, letting his weight fall forward until his head was laying against Robert’s arm.

“We are yer best friends, but you need to get in the car so we can take you home,” Robert chuckled, trying his best to lift the drummer up with Elena’s help.

“Where’s Pat?” he inhaled sharply.

“Home, Bon-Bon,” Elena answered, trying her best not to burst out laughing. “She’s at home, and home is where we’re going, alright?”

“Home!” he announced, pointing in a random direction.

“Jesus Christ,” Robert snorted, finally managing to get a single leg in the car.

“Yeah, well, if you don’t let us put you in the car, we’ll be going to jail for trespassing, so move,” Elena lightly scolded him, seemingly snapping him into action as John launched himself back across the seats. She just stared at him, before humming, “Close enough,” and shutting the car door.

With equally exasperated breaths of relief, Elena and Robert quickly slid into the front of the car, eager to make their departure as swift as possible. Neither of them felt like spending the night bailing John out.

The majority of the ride back to the Bonham house was relatively quiet, with the exception of the car’s engine and the heavy snoring from the drunk drummer in the back. Elena felt her eyes growing heavy and the events of the evening had sobered her up to an almost uncomfortable amount. She didn’t think she would ever miss a sofa as much as she did at that moment.

Robert took the time whilst driving to regain his composure. Seeing David in and of itself was enough to get his blood pumping in all the wrong ways, but once that wanker’s elbow connected with the side of Elena’s face, he was a goner. Five more minutes in that pub, and he would be joining his best friend behind bars.

Thoughts ran a mile a minute, his eyes darting to the side to catch a glimpse of Elena’s blank expression. Or maybe she was just mulling over what transpired… Either way, Robert’s dejection intensified once he realised the way he planned to end this night would not go entirely to plan, though not impossible.

All he had to do now was get John and Elena back home safely and without any more disruptions.

Elena closed her eyes, gathering her bearings as they neared the familiar street she’d called home for at least a month now. She spun in her seat, peering over the back to check that John hadn’t destroyed the interior of Robert’s car with more bodily fluids, and breathed a sigh of relief when she saw him completely passed out. He almost looked too comfortable to wake up. However, Elena suspected Robert wouldn’t necessarily be thrilled by the idea of a drunk John Bonham unconscious in the back of his car overnight.

The drummer had gone completely limp as Robert and Elena attempted to pull him from his laid back position. Mumbling incoherencies, the occasional rant about a fry-up leaving his half-asleep voice. Eventually, Elena had to retrieve Pat from inside the house to assist them.

“Bloody Nora, what the hell happened?” she sighed at the sight of her husband propped up against the car with his legs bending at the knee.

“Hi darling…” John slurred, catching a glimpse of his wife and holding his arms out to her.

“Don’t ‘hi darling’ me—let’s get you inside.” Pat shook her head, taking Elena’s place beside him and wrapping an arm tightly around his waist to help Robert take him to the front door. Elena kept close behind them, in case of any mishaps.

“Oh, uh, he yacked in the car park, so just…” Robert informed Pat once they’d crossed the threshold of the doorway. “...Be warned.”

Pat simply huffed and shook her head, glancing at Robert. “Well, thanks for staying sober yourself so you could bring him home this time.” Even though she was displeased with her husband, she couldn’t be angry at either Robert or Elena; John’s drunken behaviour was scarcely contained.

“Gah!!” John suddenly yelled, shielding himself from the “bright” lights of his home with his hands. He was immediately shushed by Pat.

“Shh! It’s eleven at night, you’ll wake up Jason!” she whisper-shouted at him, leading him over to the sofa.

“Eleven already?” Elena asked with an exasperated exhale. “No wonder I’m so tired… Hang on, don’t put him on the sofa, Pat, I have to sleep on that tonight!” She kept her voice as minimal as she could, before she felt a hand on her forearm, snapping her from her concerns about potentially having to sleep in a combination of dried-up beer from John’s jacket, and remnants of vomit from… John’s jacket.

She met the eyes of Robert, whose demeanour had softened now with the knowledge that they’d arrived at their destination.

“Uh, before you go in, can I just talk to you for a minute?” he asked, raising a hand to scratch at the top of his head.

Between the piercing gaze from those beautiful blue eyes, and the muted chaos from the middle of the living room where Pat was attempting to remove the jacket from John, Elena almost missed the question.

“Wh–oh, yeah, sure, yeah…” she babbled, looking over to Pat. “I’ll be with you in a minute, ‘kay?”

“No worries, love, just make sure you’re not too long; I need to get this one to bed and lock up.”

“No more than ten minutes, Pat,” Robert confirmed, smiling sympathetically at the woman and her unfortunate task for the night.

The pair stepped out, closing the door behind them. Elena let out a sigh, her fingers finding solace in the tousled mess of her hair, while Robert leaned back, hands in pockets, a silent observer of her momentary reprieve.

“Y’alright?” Robert’s voice cut through the stillness, his gaze fixed on Elena as she took a moment to collect herself.

“Yeah,” Elena replied with a wry laugh, her words laced with a hint of disbelief. “Just wasn’t expecting the night to go like it did…”

“Don’t think any of us did,” Robert murmured, watching as she smoothed down stray strands of hair, a testament to the chaos of the evening. Despite the disarray, there was a magnetic pull in him, a desire to run his fingers through the untamed locks, to hold her close. He dug his fingers further into his pockets, grateful for the anchor they provided.

“Well, I’m sorry,” Elena interjected suddenly, her words catching Robert off-guard.

“What on Earth are you sorry for, luv?” Robert’s brow furrowed in confusion.

Elena raised an eyebrow, her gaze unwavering. “If it wasn’t for the whole Da–”

“I don’t want to hear any apology from you, Elena,” he cut in sharply, the close-mention of that name a bitter pill to swallow.

Their eyes locked in a silent exchange, Elena’s resolve faltering in the face of Roebrt’s unwavering stance. She nodded, conceding defeat, and shifted the conversation. “Anyway, what did you want to talk to me about?”

“Ah!” Robert straightened up, grateful that she accepted that she needn’t apologise. With a flourish, he turned to open the boot of his car, retrieving a stack of square-shaped objects. “I figured since I’m goin’ away for a couple of weeks, I’d give yer these now…”

Holding out his arms, he passed Elena a stack of brand new records, and added, “So, uh… Happy Birthday.”

Elena’s eyes widened in surprise, a pang of guilt hitting her as she realised she had forgotten her own bloody birthday. Robert’s concern was palpable as he questioned, “Did… Did I get the date wrong? I-I know it’s already been, but–”

“No, no, you didn’t,” Elena reassured him, shaking her head. “You just… You remembered.”

A sympathetic smile tugged at Robert’s lips as he stepped closer. “And… you didn’t?”

“Less ‘not remembering,’ and more… just not thinking about it,” Elena admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “Everything’s been so hectic, I guess everyone just kinda… forgot.”

“Everyone but me,” Robert corrected her with a grin.

“Everyone but you,” Elena echoed, her gaze lingering on him, filled with a mix of gratitude and something else she couldn’t quite place in her exhaustion.

Realising he was probably blushing like a fool, Robert cleared his throat, gesturing towards the envelope sat on top of the records. “So, I know you’ve been a bit behind on music lately, so, I, uh… yeah… I mean, I wouldn’t read the car now, probably do that when yer alone, but–” He paused as Elena ignored his advice, reaching for the envelope as she set the stack gently on the boot of his car. “-Or you should just read it now, whatever works…”

Elena glanced up at Robert with a playful smirk, before directing her attention down to the birthday card not unlike the one he’d sent her a year before, but with a much simpler, yet hard-hitting message within:

Elena,

Without being too much of a sap... I'm very proud of you. Wish I could have been there when you needed somebody, but I can be here for you now.

Seeing as you missed some of the best music of the last year or so, I hope the present isn't too forward. I even slipped in a couple of records from this Led Zeppelin group I hear is pretty decent…

Anyway... it's time to enjoy your 20s and explore the world however (& with whomever) you damn well please!

You're too precious to hide away. Mother Nature deserves such beauty to explore what she has to offer. Don't you dare forget that for a second.

Happy birthday, El.

Robert x

Not yet having the ability to look back up at him, Elena bit down on her lips to steady the urge to grin ear-to-ear. Instead, she silently slipped the card back into the envelope and took a moment to look through the small collection of records. The Beatles’ Abbey Road, The Who’s Tommy, The Rolling Stones’ Let It Bleed, Creedence Clearwater Revival’s Green River, Nick Drake’s Five Leaves Left, Janis Joplin’s Ol’ Kozmic Blues, Jimi Hendrix’s Electric Ladyland, Aretha Franklin’s Lady Soul…

And sitting right at the bottom, in all their glory, were Led Zeppelin, and Led Zeppelin II.

Maybe it’s a bit too much… Shit, did I come off too strong? What if she doesn’t want any of that? Robert wracked through all the worst case scenarios, his breath coming to a standstill as he watched Elena look through what he’d picked out for her, and finally lifted her head to meet his eyes.

Neither of them said anything. The occasional rustle of the wind played as their soundtrack.

“Thank you.”

It was gentle. Her voice only just reached his ears. It was a “thank you” that held the weight of multiple insinuations; that became obvious by the intensity in her eyes.

Thank you for the records.

Thank you for the beautiful card.

Thank you for still caring.

Thank you for asking me to go out with you and John tonight.

Thank you for remembering my birthday.

Thank you for being my friend.

Thank you for being so kind to me.

Thank you for being… you.

Robert’s breath caught in his throat as Elena closed the gap between them, wrapping her arms tightly around his waist and burying her head against his chest. It wasn’t even a few seconds before he had instinctively encircled her shoulders, holding her against him with an urgency.

With a trembling hand, Robert dared to reach up, his fingertips hovering hesitantly behind Elena’s head. Summoning all his courage, he did what he had longed to do since the moment they met—he gently tangled his fingers in the silken strands of her dark hair. His touch was tender as he massaged her scalp, losing himself in the sensation of her soft locks.

Lowering his head, Robert nestled against her hair, enfolding her in an embrace that felt like home. Elena had never imagined finding solace in the arms of the tall, golden-haired, goofy boy she had come to know through her own best friend. Yet, in that moment, she found herself grateful that it was Robert who offered her the warmth she had been missing.

“You sure you’re okay, darlin’?” Robert murmured against her hair. She squeezed him tighter, taking a deep breath before nodding against his chest.

“I am now.”

Familiar flutters were once again unleashed in Robert’s stomach, and he pulled his head back so he could look down at her face, though his hand remained glued to the back of her head. As he bore into the deep brown of those big eyes, the only thing illuminating them being the interior lighting of the Bonham house nearby, he couldn’t resist the urge to smooth his free hand over the side of her hair, bringing it round to gently caress her face.

“You’ve got lovely eyes,” he whispered, appreciating every contour of her face in its close proximity.

Elena swallowed thickly, giving into Robert’s touch, only just realising how starved of affection she’d been for so long. “Have I?” she whispered back, pulling one hand from around his waist just to bring it up to hold onto his elbow, fingers gripping gingerly at his jumper.

“Yeah… you do,” Robert smiled with a nod of his head. His eyes darted around her face, landing on the slightly parted plushness of her lips. “And everything else,” he added without hesitation.

She smiled softly up at him, the effect his compliments bestowed on her overtaking her ability to thank him. But that smile eased up once she realised where his focus laid, nothing but the utmost adoration in his observation.

It was freeing not overthinking her next four words; there’d be no better time or place to utter them.

“Just do it, Robert,” she barely whispered with an unwavering gaze.

Robert hesitated, his heart pounding in his chest as he searched her eyes for any hint of uncertainty. But all he found was a steadfast determination, and with a sense of awe, he realised he had heard her unexpected request correctly.

“Are you sure?” he asked softly, barely audibly.

“Yes,” Elena affirmed with conviction.

For Robert, it felt like a dream come true; the girl he had secretly pined for had finally granted his unspoken wish. With a gentle brush of his lips against her nose, he tested the waters, gauging her response to each movement. And when she tilted her head, seeking his lips, he couldn’t resist it any longer, and they finally met in a fleeting yet profound moment of connection.

It was so brief. Mere seconds. The flesh barely touched. But the feeling was so monumental.

A feather-like tickle.

Despite the chill of the night, all Elena could think about was how heated the minimal space was between them. How his shaky breath caressed her like a blanket. She didn’t want to pull back—she couldn’t. Not now.

He tasted of San Miguel and Marlboro when she went in for another kiss, truly locked in once both of Robert’s hands held her face. She fell completely at his mercy, breathing out steadily through her nose as she held onto the feeling.

I’m kissing Robert. Robert.

The way she felt against his lips superseded any expectation or wild fantasy Robert could have ever conjured up. He’d thought about this moment for years. What it would be like to claim her lips like this. To express his raging admiration with more than just a smile. She was a delicate, fragile jewel to him; the finest diamond crafted by the Heavens.

Elena’s hand tightened around his forearm before it ran up to his wrist, tilting her head to the side to allow his kiss to deepen. The tip of his nose brushed against her cheek, and the unruly curls atop his head slumped forward to curtain their faces in their moment of bliss.

With an experimental swipe of his tongue along her lower lip, the pair separated, breaking the kiss with a miniscule, intimate smacking sound. Elena fluttered her eyes open, meeting his ocean gaze as he settled his forehead against hers.

“I’ve wanted to do that for 4 whole years…” he laughed airily, shutting his eyes and gently nudging her nose with his.

“I wish you had,” she breathed in a hushed tone. He gave her a look of understanding, her implication that the pain she had suffered at the hands of someone who didn’t appreciate her the way he should have, could have been avoided in their utopic retrospective.

Before Robert could go in for another kiss, the sound of the Bonhams’ front door opening snapped them out of their own little world, the two of them ripping apart like strips of velcro.

“Are you almost done?” Pat asked before she’d fully opened the door, but paused momentarily as she saw them parting. She cast a curious glance between them, a small smirk tugging at her mouth before she continued. “I need your help,” she said directly to Elena. “John’s woken Jason up with his loud bloody mouth.”

Elena snorted a laugh, running a hand through her hair and nodding. “Yeah, I’ll be in now, Pat.”

A thud distracted them briefly, attention averted to one of the upstairs bedrooms. Pat groaned. “I swear to God…” Giving Elena and Robert one last smile, she disappeared back inside to tend to the source of the noise.

Elena turned back to Robert, a bashful smile on her face. “Right, well,” she inhaled, grabbing the records from the boot of his car. “Thank you so much for these.” She nodded down at the gifts.

“Anytime, luv,” Robert responded with a knowing smirk. Though, in his gut, he was cartwheeling, bouncing off figurative walls. I kissed her. And she kissed me back. It happened!

“So, uh,” Elena was stumped for further words, feeling her face heat up.

“Go on,” he chuckled, gesturing to the house, knowing she had to go now. As much as he didn’t want to part with her that evening. “I’ll, uh,” he gave her a subtle once over, “I’ll call the house when I’m over in Wales, ‘kay?”

“Yeah,” she nodded, the giddiness bubbling up in her chest almost too much to contain, but somehow managed to.

“Oh, one more thing,” Robert called out to her as she made her way to the door. She turned on her heels to look at him again. “That Led Zeppelin group,” he glanced down at the records, “somethin’ tells me they’re pretty fuckin’ hot right now.”

Elena laughed, the grin on her face unwavering. “Yeah, well…” she looked him up and down, seeing the boy in front of her as nothing less than a grown man. “...I think that might just be the singer.”

It was Robert’s turn to gleam bashfully now, shaking his head to the side to push his hair back over his shoulder.

“Bye, Robert.”

“See you in a couple weeks, darlin’.”

Watching her disappear into the safety of his band mate’s house, from his place beside his car, he knew now more than ever that Elena Townsend was the woman he was destined to love.

And God-be-damned if he didn’t make her his.

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