A young to current Axl fic

————

1996

A loud and obnoxious crash is heard once again from the neighbour next door. I sigh. I wonder what he's destroyed now; perhaps it could be another table, or maybe he threw something out the window again, or it could be that he simply tripped over something large. Who knows.

When your neighbour is a hot-headed, bi-polar, lead singer of a rock band, and is named Axl Rose, you can never tell.

As I usually do when I hear the obnoxious crash though, I leave my home and head over to Axl's.

The first time I heard the loud sounds of the man destroying his home, I made the mistake of not checking it out. He wound up with a nasty gash on his forehead, a shattered glass table, a window smashed beyond repair, and his hands were cut up from his attempt to pick up the shards of glass. I just happened to pass his home on a morning stroll, and I saw the damage that had been inflicted upon it.

I offered to help him clean up and stitch his cuts. He reluctantly agreed, and he allowed me into his home.

Since that day, I've gone over to his home whenever the crashes and smashes reverberate off the canyon.

I park my car in his driveway, and I get out. Upon inspection, I see that a table has been thrown out the window. I inhale sharply, and I walk carefully to Axl's door. He's still angry, so I'll have to calm him down before I do anything else.

I ring his doorbell, and I hope upon hope that he lets me in.

Last time, he didn't let me in, and I had to use the spare key. When I entered, I was immediately attacked by a lamp.

Luckily, Axl opens the door. I can almost feel the anger surrounding him, permeating the space around him like a strong wave crashing into a small boat.

Immediately, he stalks off, leaving me to follow him. Unfortunately, he enters his room, and he closes and locks the door. I sigh. He'll be in his room for a while, so I make my way to the mess of glass.

Shaking my head, I set to work, picking up the larger pieces and throwing them into a trash bag. The shards are very large and deathly sharp, so I double bag them. Still, they bulge out, so I triple bag them. The keen edges of glass still poke out, but they don't puncture the third bag, so I toss the bag into a bin outside the home.

I return to the inside of the house, and I continue to clean up the glass. I get the broom and sweep up the smaller shards, emptying the dustpan into the bin in the kitchen. For the smallest pieces of keen glass, I pull out the vacuum. The machine whirrs to life, sucking up the remaining fragments of glass. Finally, the glass shards are no more. Inside the house, at least.

I place the cleaning supplies in their rightful places, and I move back to the scene of the mess. Axl looks around casually, seeming to have calmed down. Still, I stride cautiously toward him.

"Are you hurt?" I ask him softly. Startled, he turns around to face me.

"It's just a small scratch. Nothing I can't fix up myself," he says. I frown and raise a brow, holding out my hand. Axl steps toward me, holding out his left arm. He, too, raises an eyebrow as I inspect the cuts on his arm and hand.

"This is more than a small scratch, Axl. You have one huge cut and many smaller cuts. They're bleeding somewhat heavily. I'm not sure you'll want bloodstains on your flooring," I reprimand, leading the man—gently—by his arm to his bathroom.

I release his arm as I find the First-Aid kit under his sink.

"Why do you do this?" Axl asks suddenly—quietly, as if he almost didn't want to ask. My frown deepens.

"Do what? Fix you up?" I ask in return. Gently, I hand him several strips of gauze. He places them on his arm. He applies pressure to some of the cuts, while I apply pressure to the others.

"All of it. You clean up my messes, check on me, you fix me up. Why do you do it?" He asks. I shrug, not really sure why I do what I do.

"I suppose some part of me can empathise with you, while another part of me just wants to help you in any way I can," I reply. Axl doesn't give away any sign of a reaction, so I simply wrap up his arm and release it. I pick up the kit, and I open the cabinet.

"Slash left Guns," Axl says. I put the kit in the cabinet and close the door. I turn to face him. He watches my movements carefully, judging my reactions. I give nothing away as I lean on the counter next to him.

"He fucking left because the fucker couldn't put the drugs and booze to bed," Axl admits quietly. By the way his jaw clenches, I can see the anger bubbling to the surface. I gently place a hand on his arm. He calms visibly and breathes in deeply. Slowly, he exhales, still observing my reactions.

I don't say a word as he rants to me about the "fucking band" and the "fuckers doing their fucking drugs and booze till they're so out of it, they're not fucking there."

Eventually, he pauses.

"You know, I never thanked you for the stuff you do," he says finally. I shake my head.

"You know that you don't have to thank me, Axl. It's only right for me to want to help you out," I say, pushing myself off the counter.

"Can I at least take you out to dinner tonight?" He asks. I pause my movements to leave the bathroom. I turn to him, smiling slightly.

"Sure," I say, "pick me up at eight."

————
1998

Axl walks out to his car. I watch from the window as he gets in and leaves.

Never again will we be the same.

I feel the wetness of salty tears run down my cheeks. I make no move to wipe them from my face.

I know of his destructive nature—quite well, might I add—and I can only imagine the damage that he will inflict upon his house and himself. God, I wish it never came to this.

Ever since his arrest three months ago, our relationship has been strained. I, of course, bailed him out of jail. As my usual method, I said nothing to him as he ranted about the "fucking security" touching "priceless shit." I was there when the entire ordeal went down, but not right there, in the midst of the action.

I witnessed Axl threatening to assault the security guard for— what seemed to me like no reason, but I didn't see the entire exchange—nearly smashing birthday presents.

As he ranted, I listened intently.

But now, three months ago seems like forever ago. Since the arrest, our relationship had gone south until now. Now there is no relationship.

At the mere thought of Axl's parting words, —"I fucking love you, but you can't be with a fucker like me."—I begin to sob harder than before.

I dramatically back up to the wall and slide down, plopping onto the floor.

Maybe one day, he'll come around.

————
2002

Tim chuckles as he drives past the Rose Residence.

"I wonder if that fucker's straightened out yet," he says, still darkly chuckling. I smack his arm.

"Shut up. He's really not a bad guy. He's just very sensitive. I should know; I've been his neighbour for fuck knows how long," I say.

"For too fucking long, I say. You should come live with me, babe. Then you can get away from that asshat," he says, parking his car in my driveway.

"I'd rather not right now. Besides, he's been really quiet for a while now. I'm worried he's done something," I say. Tim scoffs. I open the car door.

"But babe—" I cut him off.

"Goodbye, Tim," I say, rolling my eyes as I close the car door. Tim rolls the window down.

"You know what? Fuck you! We're over!" He shouts so loudly, I'm sure everyone all the way to Hollywood can hear him.

"Fine! Be a Petty Patricia about the whole thing!" I shout back, stomping to the open window of the car.

"You have no fucking reason to be mad at me. I've done nothing to you," I say, leaning into the window.

Tim puts the car in reverse.

Is he really going to drive off while I'm leaning into the window?

He stomps the gas while I'm leaning in the window. I shit you not.

"Are you trying to fucking kill me?" I shout. It's no use. Tim's already headed down the road. I growl angrily, digging my keys out of my purse. The nerve of that rotten sack of meat and bones.

I stomp to my front door, and I unlock it, entering.

"Fuck him," I mutter, plopping my purse and keys down on the table in the foyer. I stalk off, into my bedroom. I kick my shoes off and crash onto my bed.

Then, my phone rings. Of fucking course. I rise from my bed, muttering profanities under my breath. I pick up the phone, and sigh into the receiver.

"Hello?" I ask monotonously.

"Hey, I'm just calling to check on you."

The deep, gravelly voice is familiar.

"Uh, what? Why?" I ask accusingly.

"I saw what that guy did," the familiar voice says. Oh my God, it's Axl.

"Axl? What the fuck?" I ask, not knowing what else to say.

"Yeah, it's me. Look, I need to know whether you're okay or not. That fucker almost ran over you," he says surprisingly calmly. The fuck? He would typically be shouting by now.

"I'm super pissed, but I'm fine," I say, furrowing my brows.

"Okay good. I have to go—" I cut him off.

"Axl, why the fuck do you want to make sure I'm okay?" I ask.

"Look, I don't want to explain it over the phone. Do you want me to come to yours or do you want to come to mine?"

"I guess you better let me in, Rose. And don't chuck a lamp at me," I say. A deep chuckle sounds on the line.

"I won't chuck a lamp at you, and I'll let you in when I see your pretty face," he says.

"See you in five." I hang up. This better fucking be worth it.

————

The door opens rather quickly. Axl's face fills my vision as he leans around the door.

"Hey, I didn't think you'd actually show up," he says. I roll my eyes.

"I'm here now," I say, crossing my arms over my chest. Axl opens the door a bit more and moves to the side, allowing me to walk in.

His home is clean, surprisingly. There's no mess to be found. I furrow my brows.

Axl sees my reaction to his home and chuckles—fuck, I miss his chuckling; it's so fucking sexy. Wait, what the hell? Why the fuck am I calling his chuckle sexy?

I sit on one of his many couches, and I cross my right leg over my left. I want to know why the fuck he wants to check on me after all this time. What has changed now that hadn't changed before.

"As you can see, I haven't destroyed anything else since the last time you were here," Axl says sheepishly, sitting on the couch opposite me. I casually glance around.

"I can see that. Axl, can we get to the point, please?" I ask. He makes a very noticeable swallow.

"Please tell me why you're concerned that I almost got ran over. I mean, we haven't spoken since the breakup, and that was back in '98," I say. Yes, he broke up with me 4 years ago.

"Okay well, I met this girl six years ago. She was stunning, really stunning. She had beautiful eyes that twinkled when she smiled, a smile that could light up a whole room, and she had a very kind heart. She only wanted to help and love me, but I broke her kind, beautiful, big heart, and I've been guilty ever since. I used to love her so much, and somehow, I still do," he says. 

He's talking about me. Fuck. He still loves me.

Axl Rose fucking loves me.

After all this time, he still loves me.

Oh my fuck.

Realising that Axl is gauging my expressions for a reaction, I open my mouth to speak. The words get stuck in my throat. I close my mouth. I clear my throat to rid it of the lump forming. Finally, I can speak.

"You... still love me," I say, testing each word on my tongue. Axl smiles a brilliant smile.

"Yeah, I do," he says. Finally, I allow myself to smile.

"Good, 'cause I still love you," I say.

————
2007

Axl has decided to take me out to a special dinner. I'm not entirely sure what the special occasion is. The fucker won't even give me a hint.

All I know is he's taking me somewhere fancy, hence the knee-length black dress and red stilettos I wear.

"You'll love it, baby," he tells me every time I ask him about our whereabouts. I'm super uncomfortable wearing this dress, which makes me impatient.

"How much longer? This dress is fucking uncomfortable," I complain. Axl simply chuckles, and he pats my knee.

"Not too much longer, baby. Just a few more minutes," he says. I sigh. This is taking too fucking long.

Finally, after forever, the car stops.

"Wait right here, baby. Just give me a minute," Axl says, getting out. I sigh. I really want to get out of the vehicle.

My door is finally opened by Axl. I get out of the car and observe my surroundings. It's a nice restaurant that I could never afford. Axl could, but I could never.

"Do you like it?" He asks, taking my hand in his.

"It's really nice, baby. Thank you," I say. Axl smirks, which isn't always a good thing.

"Don't thank me yet. Wait until we get inside," he says.

Axl leads me into the restaurant, opening doors for me, and letting me go before him. When we get to the desk, I pause.

"Do you have a reservation, sir?" The waiter asks.

"Yeah, reservation's under Rose," Axl says. The waiter gathers two menus and leads the way to our table.

Axl pulls out my chair for me, then pushes it in after I sit. He then goes to the opposite side of the table and sits.

The waiter asks for our drink preferences, so both of us order Coke. The waiter leaves the table. Finally, I can take in my surroundings. Our table is nestled in a corner of the restaurant. There are very few people around that I can see.

The restaurant is somewhat dark, lit only by accent lighting.

Axl recaptures my attention by placing a hand on mine, which rests on the table.

"What's going on in your pretty head?" He asks.

"I'm just observing the restaurant. It's very nice," I say. He hums in thought.

"It's alright, I guess. You're nicer to look at, though," he says, donning a smirk. I roll my eyes, a smile pulling at the corners of my mouth.

"Especially since you're wearing that little black dress and those red heels. Baby, you look real good," he says. Axl licks his lips seductively. I laugh at his insinuations.

"You're a naughty man, Mr. Rose," I say.

"Only for you, baby," he replies, deepening his voice. I sigh contentedly, shaking my head.

The waiter arrives with our Cokes and takes our orders. When he leaves, Axl's smirk grows wider.

"I have a surprise for you after dinner," Axl says. I raise an eyebrow.

"Let me guess, I don't get a hint," I say. He shakes his head.

"Nope. I know you'll love it, though," he says. His cocky smirk still rests on his lips.

"Why would you tell me about the surprise and not give me a hint as to what the fuck it is?" I whine. Axl chuckles.

"Just a little patience..." he sings softly. I roll my eyes.

"If you're trying to charm me, it's not working," I say. Axl rolls his eyes this time.

"You know I can charm you anytime, baby. I just have to give you the look, and you fall for it every fucking time." He knows he's right, and he shows this with the smug smile on his face.

I sigh in defeat.

"You look especially cute when you pout," Axl says. My jaw drops.

"I am not pouting!" I exclaim. Axl shakes his head, sitting up in his seat.

"Fine, you weren't pouting. But your look of 'Axl's right and I'm wrong' was adorable," he says. I roll my eyes. This man will be the death of me.

"Cheer up, baby. I'm going to make tonight the best night of your life."

———

I put my fork down, absolutely stuffed from tonight's dinner.

"I can't eat any fucking more," I say, holding a hand over my aching stomach. Axl chuckles slightly.

"Then it's time for your surprise," he says. Axl digs his hand into his pocket and pulls out a little, black velvet box. I raise an eyebrow. What the hell is he—oh my fuck, he's down on one knee!

"Ever since I saw that beautiful woman next door, I knew that I had to have her. She took my breath away, even as I left her behind. I could barely live with the thought of her hurting because of me. I watched as another man seemingly stole her heart, and I hated myself for letting her go. When she and I finally found each other once again, my broken heart repaired itself, and now, she's still everything to me. I used to love her, and somehow I still do. I love her more with each second of every day. Baby, you still take my breath away. I want you to be more than just my girlfriend; I want you to be my wife. So will you marry me, baby?"

I shakily exhale a breath I didn't know I was holding in. Tears run like rivers down my cheeks.

"Of course I'll marry you, Axl!" I exclaim. He grins, sliding the diamond ring onto my finger.

He gets up and leans down to kiss me. I kiss back with so much passion and hunger. He slowly breaks away.

"Don't cry, baby," he says softly, wiping away my tears.

————
2010

I carefully tuck my two year-old daughter into bed, and I place a kiss on her forehead.

"Mommy?" She calls as I go to exit her room.

"Yes, baby?"

"Can you sing for me?" She asks. I chuckle softly. Axl typically sings her to sleep, but he's on tour right now.

"Alright. Which song would you have me to sing?" I ask.

"A Daddy song!" She exclaims. I sigh softly, sitting in the small bed next to her.

I sing November Rain softly. She's asleep by the middle of the first chorus. I carefully rise from her bed, and I turn out the lights. I exit her room, and I make my way into the kitchen.

Perhaps I'll make some coffee and crash on the couch. It's only seven thirty, so I have plenty of time to myself.

I get the Keurig started, and I flip on the tv. I find a random show and set the remote on the table in front of the couch.

The Keurig lets me know that the coffee's been made, so I get up and take the mug of dark brown, aromatic liquid.

I take a slow sip, so I don't burn my tongue. As I place the mug down, I hear the small patter of footsteps that could only be my daughter.

I turn around to face her as she comes into the kitchen.

"Why're you up, baby?" I ask. She rubs her eye sleepily, clutching onto a stuffed rabbit by its ear with one hand.

"I miss Daddy," she says. I pick her up, placing her on my hip. She wraps her legs around my waist and her arms around my neck.

"I know, baby. So do I," I say, rubbing her back. She releases her hold around my neck to look into my eyes.

"When is Daddy coming home?" She asks.

"In a month. Do you want me to call him?" I ask. Where Axl is, it should be midday for him, so the call shouldn't disrupt him from anything too important.

She perks up, losing all signs of exhaustion.

"Yeah! Call Daddy!" She exclaims. I smile, picking up my phone from the counter. I dial Axl's number and wait until he picks up. I put the phone on speaker mode.

"Hello?"

"Hey, baby. A certain little one wanted me to call you before she went to bed," I say, handing the iPhone 4 to the toddler. I hoist her up on my hip so she doesn't slip.

"Daddy!" She exclaims. Axl chuckles heartily.

"Hey, baby girl. Are you taking care of Mommy?" He asks. The girl nods frantically, although he can't see her.

"Yes, Daddy. Mommy and me are good girls for you," she says happily. I move a strand of hair from her face.

"That's good news! Did you and Mommy do anything fun today?" He asks, sounding genuinely interested in what we'd done today.

"Mommy painted my toes!"

"Did she?"

"Uh huh! And she let me do makeup on her!"

"Wow! I bet you had fun!"

"Yeah! And Mommy played rockstar with me!"

"Awesome, baby girl! What else did you do?"

"Me and Mommy swam in the— in the pool!"

"Oh wow! That sounds like a lot of fun!"

"It was! But Daddy, I miss you."

"I miss you too, baby girl. But guess what!"

"What, Daddy?"

"Get Mommy to open the front door."

"Mommy! Let's open the door!" I chuckle, manoeuvring around the house to the front door. I open the door to see Axl standing there, phone in hand.

He ends the call, opening his arms.

The toddler wraps her arms around his neck as he pulls her into his chest. She drops her rabbit and my phone in the process. Axl places multiple kisses on her cheeks and forehead. She giggles loudly. I pick up my phone, and I slide it into my back pocket.

"Daddy, it tickles!" She shrieks, starting to giggle louder. Axl chuckles as he stops kissing her. The girl pets his facial hair, and she gives him a kiss on his cheek.

"Your beard tickles," she says. Axl grins brilliantly.

"Does it?" He asks, watching her closely.

"Uh huh."

"Okay, let's let Daddy in the house," I say, moving inside the house. The girl sighs dejectedly.

"Okay," she says, exhaustion finally taking its toll on her. She yawns, nuzzling into Axl's chest. Axl enters the house, looking around.

"Do you want to put her to bed? I'll get your stuff and put it in the bedroom for you," I say, picking up Axl's luggage from outside the door.

When I turn around, Axl's retreating figure with our daughter is the sight I behold. I smile slightly, watching them go into the kitchen.

Then, I slowly move his luggage into our bedroom, placing it at the foot of the bed. When I exit, I go into the kitchen. I can hear Axl singing Patience to the sleepy toddler from here.

It sounds so sweet.

Finally, he comes out of her room, a soft smile on his lips. He holds his arms out when he sees me.

"Hey baby," he says as he wraps his arms around me. I give him a peck on the lips, then place my head on his chest.

Axl chuckles.

"I missed you," I say, holding onto him tightly. He squeezes me slightly.

"I missed you too, baby," he says softly.

"Has our little Rocket Queen been wearing you out?" He asks. I nod. He chuckles heartily.

"Come on, baby. Let's get you to bed then. You can cuddle with me all night." Axl gives me a peck on my forehead.

Reluctantly, I pull away from Axl to head into the bedroom.  I pull back the covers and plop onto the bed. Axl pulls his shoes and shirt off, then gets in with me. He lays on his back, and I lay my head on his chest. He wraps an arm around me, while my arm lays on his stomach.

Gently, Axl strokes my hair as he begins to sing softly.

"When I look into your eyes, I can see a love restrained..."

————
2016

Currently, Axl is touring with AC/DC. He wanted me to go along with him, but I have two children to care for; an eight year old and a five year old. He wanted me to bring the kids, but I made him see sense.

There's no way my children are going on tour. They wouldn't be able to balance school, touring, concerts, homework, etc. And the drinking. There will definitely be a fuck ton of drinking. If not from the band, then from the fans. They're not going to be around all of that.

Axl reluctantly agreed.

And so, phone calls have been our way to stay connected with Axl. It sucks, but it's better than exposing my kids to all the junk that goes along with touring.

The kids go to an Elementary school not far from the house, so if I need to pick them up, they're within driving distance.

The youngest, our five year-old son, attends K5, while the oldest, our eight year-old daughter, attends the Third Grade. She's at the point where her little brother is cute sometimes, but very "annoying." God, she's going to be such a sassy teenager.

And yet, for some reason, Axl keeps pleading for more children. He's 54! If we had another child, he would be too old to deal with their teenage shit.

Of course, I repeatedly deny his pleads for more kids. This causes him to give me the silent treatment for about an hour.

Now that he's on tour, he doesn't plead for more children. He's exhausted more easily, and he calls to check on us and for us to check on him. Also, his broken leg gives him grief.

I can only imagine the stresses piled onto the poor man. My poor man.

I enter my daughter's room to find her already dressed, minus her shoes.

"Mom, where's my pink Converse with polka dots?" She asks, looking under her bed frantically.

"You left them in the kitchen and never brought them back here," I say. She dashes out of the room to get her shoes.

I make my way to my son's room. When I open his door, I see that he, too, is up, but he's still in pyjamas. I move to his closet and pick out two outfits for him.

"Alright, would you like dinosaurs or Metallica?" I ask, holding out each outfit for him to see.

"Dinos!" He exclaims. I chuckle slightly, putting the Metallica shirt and jeans back in his closet.

"Get it on and put on your dark green Vans. Let me know if you need help tying the laces," I say, exiting.

"Okay, Mommy!" He calls, knowing that I'm further down the hall. I head into the kitchen to see my daughter tying her final shoe.

"What's for breakfast?" She asks, now done with her prior task.

"Maple Syrup Oatmeal. It's on the counter in a bowl. Get a spoon, and eat at the table, please," I say.

"Mommy!" I hear my son call.

I swiftly make my way to his room.

"How does the shoes tie again?" He asks. I chuckle softly, squatting at his feet.

"Make an X with the laces. This lace goes under the hill, then pull it up tightly. Now we make the bunny ears. Then, wrap one ear around the other, and make it go under the hill. Pull it up tightly, and voilá!"

My son, who is an exact replica of Axl, grins in appreciation, his missing front tooth on display.

"Thanks, Mommy!" He exclaims, wrapping his arms around my neck. I wrap my arms around his waist as I rise from the floor, pulling him into my chest.

I head into the kitchen with my son, and I place him in a chair at the table. I bring his oatmeal to him with a spoon.

"Now eat up! We have to leave in," I glance at the clock on the wall, "ten minutes."

———
2 days later

Today is Axl and I's 9th anniversary. I'm not all that pumped about it though, because Axl is with Angus Young and the rest of AC/DC in New York. Not in California.

As for the kids, they were sent to my sister's house.

I needed some time to myself, so here I am.

I am getting a pedicure.

Everyone needs the occasional self-care day, and I suppose this is mine. And so, I relax as the lady paints my toes a cherry red colour.

With my pedicure complete and now paid for, I head home to take a relaxing bubble bath with a glass of rosé.

As soon as I enter the house, I'm hit with the strong scent of flowers. Confused and a little worried, I notice a trail of red roses leading into my bedroom.

Cautiously, I follow the path of flowers. I end up in my bathroom, standing next to my bathtub, filled with water—still steaming —and bubbles. A glass of rosé is perched on the edge of the tub, as is a few rose petals.

I hear a shuffling sound behind me, and I turn around in fear. My fears are quickly diminished as I see my husband in the doorway of the bathroom, holding a bouquet of roses. He looks a bit nervous, which brings a huge grin to my face.

"Hey, baby," he says. I swiftly step toward him, my grin never leaving my face. I wrap my arms around him, nuzzling my face into his chest. Axl chuckles softly, holding me tightly.

"Happy Anniversary, baby. I filled the tub and set up the house just for you," He says. I sigh softly.

"I missed you so much," I say finally, bringing his face toward mine. I pull him in for a crazily passionate, intimacy-starved kiss. Axl chuckles against my lips, his hands pulling me closer to him.

Finally, we break for air.

"I missed you too, baby," he says. Then, Axl smirks.

"Now get undressed and hop in the tub. I have the rest of the day planned."

————
2019

Guns N Roses finished their Not In This Lifetime Tour last week. This week, Axl and I are set on taking it easy.

Our daughter sits at the kitchen table, working on her homework. Our son is sleeping over with one of his friends. Axl and I are making dinner together.

We have a pretty good system going. I get out the ingredients, chop what needs to be chopped, and Axl mixes it up. If needed, I stir.

The smells coming from the stove are heavenly. 

"Daddy?" I hear my daughter call from the table. Axl raises a brow.

"Whatcha need, baby girl?" He asks. She sighs.

"What is a synonym for trouble?" She asks, scrunching up her nose in confusion.

"That's a tough one. Does Mommy know?" Axl asks, giving me a smirk. I roll my eyes.

"What's the context clues, sweetie? Read the sentence around it."

"'Joe was in a bit of trouble' is what it says," she says, biting the end of her pencil.

"A synonym for trouble would be predicament," I say, furrowing my brows in thought. The girl perks up, circling something with her pencil.

"Thanks, Mommy!" She exclaims.

"You're so sexy when you help the kids with their homework," Axl mumbles to me. I smack him on the chest, rolling my eyes.

"Shut up," I reply. Axl chuckles and wraps an arm around my waist. He leans down and places a kiss on my cheek.

"You know you love me, baby," he says, pulling me into his side even more. He places small kisses on my neck and jaw, causing me to laugh.

"Axl, stop! It tickles," I say, trying to push him away. In response, he kisses my neck harder, nipping it with his teeth. I nearly moan, but I have to stop myself because of our daughter just a room away.

"There is a minor present in our house!" I whisper harshly, pulling away from Axl. His only response is a wink. Oh, fuck. The man's turned on. I sigh.

Times like these remind me of Axl and I when we were significantly younger and very horny all the time.

Now that we have children and we're older, our activity in the bedroom is mostly limited to cuddles and sleeping. But occasionally, Axl becomes reminiscent of his younger self, and boy, do I recognise when that happens.

The fucker starts out with kisses, then nipping, then full-on hickeys. When he's making hickeys, you know it won't be long before he suddenly becomes animalistic. I try to stop him at the kissing part, but sometimes, he's just unstoppable.

I don't mind, of course; unless the kids are awake, then I absolutely mind.

Luckily, I stopped him at the nipping. Hopefully, he can hold out until after we put our daughter to sleep.

Fuck knows we haven't had to awkwardly explain what sex was after Mommy and Daddy were caught—because, as of yet, we haven't been caught—and I intend to keep it that way. With Axl, I'm not so certain.

Axl gets three plates from the cabinet. I get forks from the drawer. We place everything on the table, and we sit down.

Dinner passes by quickly.

Before long, Axl's singing Patience to our daughter as she falls asleep. I, on the other hand, step out of the tub in my bathroom, and I wrap a towel around my body.

I pull my hair out of the messy bun it had been placed in earlier, and I open Axl's t-shirt drawer in his dresser. I pull out a random shirt and slip it on, allowing the white towel to drop to the floor.

Suddenly, I feel a presence behind me, a hard object pressed against my ass.

"That was hot, baby." Axl's voice is low and husky in my ear, his warm breath on my neck. Fuck, he's really aroused. He places his hands on my waist, and he turns me around to face him.

"Come on, baby. Let me see you. You can put my shirt back on later."

———

I wake up to Axl's arm slung across my body.

I'm clad only in his shirt. He's only wearing boxers.

I roll over, pressing my chest to Axl's. I watch as he sleeps peacefully. Gently, I move a strand of hair from his face. He looks so calm and at ease when he's not worrying about his music and how other people are tying into it.

His eyes flutter open, and he smirks.

"Good morning, baby. You look real good in my shirt," he says. My only response is to move closer to him, burying my face in his chest. He chuckles softly.

"You are so beautiful in the morning, baby," Axl says. I raise my head to give him a look. He simply moves his hand from my waist to my cheek, stroking it softly.

"I wish I could stay here with you forever, but we have a kid that needs to get up and go to school," I say.

Axl groans, getting up. He pulls on a t-shirt and a pair of ripped jeans. He goes into the bathroom to brush his teeth and hair. Finally, he comes out of the bathroom.

"I'll wake her up. You just relax, baby," Axl says, heading out the door. I scoff. Does he really expect me to lay in bed all day waiting for him to cuddle with me? I can't lay in bed all day.

So I get up and head into the kitchen. Axl's pouring a glass of milk for our daughter.

"I told you to relax," he says, putting the milk away.

"I am relaxing. I'm just sitting here, not doing anything," I say, smirking. Axl moves to stand behind me. He puts his arms around my waist, and leans into my ear.

"Get back in the bed right now. You are going to wait until I get home. Until then, you are not to do anything around the house," he says, retracting his arms and grabbing the car keys. I sigh, getting up.

"Fine, I'll go back to bed," I say, heading back to our bedroom.

———

Axl returns and, as promised, gives me cuddles.

While cuddling, we talk about the most random things. Then, Axl and I go silent for a bit.

"You know, there once was this girl I loved with all of my soul. I saw her, and I went 'she's so fucking beautiful. I'm going to get her to wife me.' And then, I met her, and I said 'she's the one that's going to carry my children.' You know what? I was right. She did marry me, and she gave me two beautiful children." Axl caresses my cheek as he says this. I sigh softly, and reach up to peck his cheek.

"I used to love her, and somehow I still do," Axl says, running his fingers through my hair. I smile softly.

"I love you, baby," Axl says finally. I peck his cheek again.

"I love you too, Axl."