seven minutes in heaven

Roman is fucking infuriating-- still, does it hinder you from kissing him during a simple party game? And what will you do when he threatens to tell your best friend, Letha, about everything going on?

Notes:

i dedicate this story to Lyndi, the fuel,
and to Hannah, who has always believed in me. thank you for protecting my fire through the snowstorms.

Chapter 1: seven minutes

Summary:

You really, really hate Roman Godfrey. But what you hate most, is that he doesn't notice you at all.

Chapter Text

I didn't like Roman Godfrey— not one bit.

Everything about that spoiled brat was infuriating. All from the way he walked around as though he owned the town, to the way that he'd get a kick out of throwing tater tots at people. Fucking child. The amount of times I'd sat at the bleachers and watched him throw it at the cheerleaders, specifically aiming right down their shirts, made my blood boil.

Roman Godfrey believed that the world was his, including the people living in it. That's exactly why he dared to take such liberties.

I specifically hated the way he'd move his hair out of his green, green eyes, the look he'd give me after he tugged my hair in the hallway with a sneer, and his sadistic need to claim his conquests in the absolute weirdest ways known to man. If we are to believe Brooke Bluebell from the cheerleading team, he also had an affinity for poking girls with needles in public just for the sheer thrill of watching them squeal. Because who would tell him off, right? I wondered if he was familiar with the word 'no' at all.

After the needle-rumour spread, I made sure to keep a few meters between us at all times. There was no way in hell that he would get away with doing that to me, anyway.

And I would've stayed as far away from Roman as possible, had it been up to me. Sadly, my best friend at school was his cousin— just my luck. Letha, like the rest of the girls at school, was quite fond of Roman; since she was the oldest of the two, she somehow couldn't see that he had grown past the age of five, treating him as though he could do no wrong.

And this was why Roman was always invited whenever we would have study sessions at Letha's place. He would splay himself out on the bed, stretching out his long limbs, watching us as we worked and he lazed away.

God, how I hated him. I hated the way his hair was kissing his forehead when he laid like this in Letha's bed, the way he'd grin whenever he watched me erase a wrong answer, and the way his cologne would linger in my system several hours after he'd left.

Currently, we were supposed to be working on the half-year assignment everyone in our year had to do. Letha was sitting at her desk with her back turned to us as Roman and I sat on the bed, each with our own computer. My meter-rule to protect myself from any incoming needles was impossible to implement on Letha's tiny bed, and I let out a huff as Roman's knee touched mine. I prayed to every God in the universe that he didn't have a needle in his pockets somewhere— I was quite fond of my knees, and would very much like to keep them intact.

"Five hundred bucks," Roman tried, nudging me. "Do this assignment for me and it's yours."

I rolled my eyes, shifting further away from him on the bed. "Do your own shit,"

He proceeded to sneer, watching me with his big, green eyes. "Six hundred,"

"No,"

"Seven?"

"Suck it, Roman," I cracked my knuckles, doing my best to get back into the flow of writing the assignment. It was so damn hard to focus when Roman's incessant sighing continued, almost as though he was being forced to take his own life.

"Help me, then," he mumbled, moving closer to me. His leg was almost on top of mine, now. "How did you answer question b?" Roman leaned over me, his head now obstructing my view of my screen. In a flash of pure instincts, I closed my eyes, inhaling the scent of his hair that was tickling my nose. I couldn't quite put my finger on exactly what it was that smelled so good— him or the shampoo?

I got yanked out of my state when Roman pulled away, typing away on his own laptop, finally inspired.

I couldn't help but sigh; I hated Roman. And I hated that he didn't notice me in the way I wanted him to. I hated the way he smiled, the way he'd so blatantly flirt with girls at any opportunity he'd get, and how my heart fluttered when he flirted with me once in a blue moon.

It only got worse when we were in chemistry class the next day, and Roman had caught me sitting all alone in the back. I wasn't sure what came over me and why I had allowed him to sit down next to me again— the last time had been an absolute catastrophe where he got the both of us kicked out for bickering too loudly, so I hoped it wouldn't be a repeat-situation. I really needed to make sure I was getting every drop of information out of class today, as we had a test coming up soon.

However, Roman was the absolute biggest distraction on earth. I knew this. He kept leaning over to draw crude drawings in my book, making me have to swat his hand away over and over; "Stop it!"

Roman huffed, leaning back against his chair with a bored expression on his face. "You're no fun," he whispered back.

And this was when it hit me— maybe I wasn't fun? Did he really think that of me?

... Maybe it was time to show him how fun I could be?

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

When Letha mentioned a party happening this weekend and the fact that Roman would be joining, I couldn't help but feel a certain sense of dread— I knew what that would entail for him. He'd either disappear with a girl upstairs and/or get absolutely shitfaced, as always. And was I really going to put myself through seeing him disappear with someone else again just to prove I wasn't boring?

Yes— Yes, I was.

As I sipped my drink, I couldn't help but feel my hatred for Roman simmer and come to a boil— I hated how he had me doing the most ridiculous things known to man just to get a sliver of his attention. Why was a question I couldn't bring myself to answer.

As I stood in the kitchen with Letha, I spotted Roman passing by the door, laughing with a friend of his. My heart thumped hard as I let out a shaky breath; "Letha, I have to tell you something,"

She turned to me, a beer in her hand. "Don't tell me you've killed someone again? I don't have the energy to drag another body out of my car today,"

"Ha-ha," I mumbled; had this been any other instance, I would've thought it was funny... but not right before I was about to tell her why I had come tonight. I dreaded it; I knew she'd disapprove. But just as I opened my mouth, ready to put my friendship on the line, I caught Roman backtracking and appearing in the door again.

"Girls!" He walked over, looking tipsy as ever. Up close like this, Roman towered over the both of us, and I had to look up an unusual amount to meet his eyes. "I've been looking for you all over! They're playing seven minutes in heaven downstairs, wanna join?"

Had this been any other night, I would've given him an immediate no— but tonight was different. Tonight, I was fun. Shrugging, I glanced over at Letha to check her reaction.

"That's so childish," Letha mumbled, sipping her beer. "I don't know, and I'm sure grumpy over here isn't too keen on that either—"

"No, I'm in!" My words came out like a panicked squeal which immediately made my cheeks burn.

Roman seemed caught off guard by my reaction, but he eventually reached out to pat my shoulder, looking smug as ever. "There you go," he cooed, clearly teasing me. "Maybe you'll finally get laid or something!"

I was abruptly reminded of why I hated him so much in the first place. Swatting his hand off of me, I brushed my fingers over my shoulder where he had touched me, feeling a lingering burn. "If you think seven minutes is enough for everything that goes into sex, I think you need to lower that ego of yours,"

Letha bit back a smirk as Roman's lips parted in shock. Maybe the spoiled rich kid hadn't gotten a reality-check from his long list of women before? He eventually recovered from the diss, rolling his eyes; "Well, seven minutes with me can be more than enough. Need me to show you?"

Letha let out a loud snort, shuddering; "Ew, Roman! I've told you not to talk to my friends like that!"

As they turned to each other, bickering like siblings, I gripped the counter behind me with all my strength. I was almost compelled to agree, to say yes to letting him have a go, and I had to bite down on my tongue to stop myself. After a few drinks, I knew I could get a little loose-lipped.

It didn't take long before we all made it downstairs, everyone spreading out on the couches and chairs scattered in the basement. Letha and I sat down on a few pillows on the floor, far away from Roman and his rumoured needles.

I felt my throat go dry every time the bottle spun around, landing on random people from school who later went into the empty closet nearby. But my attention was elsewhere; I watched as Roman put his arm around the girl next to him, whispering something into her ear which made her laugh. It made me want to slam my head into the wall behind me— I would rather pass out and bleed out than witness him picking up another girl again.

I swallowed hard as the people in the closet came back out and the bottle got spun again. The first person was picked; a girl with long, brown hair whom I remembered from history class; huge bitch. Holding my breath, I watched as the bottle got spun again— it eventually slowed down and pointed to Roman, which made the girl's friend group cheer as though they had won a million dollars. It felt like my heart was getting ripped out of my chest as Roman got up from the couch, grinning from ear to ear. The girl he had just had his arm around wasn't as happy, to say the least.

This whole display was making me sick. I bit the inside of my cheek as Roman closed the door to the closet and the previous drinks in my system threatened to come up. Everything about this was making me sick. I got up, taking hurried steps to the nearest bathroom, planting myself on my knees in front of the toilet just in case.

I heard a few knocks on the door before Letha stepped in, looking worried. "I told you not to drink that vodka crap," she mumbled, locking the door before she sat down next to me on the floor.

I felt my tears press on as I grew further nauseous. "Don't mind me," I breathed. "I just need a minute."

This only solidified my absolute and utter hate for Roman. Spoiled fucking brat— why did he have to make me feel this way? Why was my jealousy making me so sick and bitter?

Letha put her hand on my back in an attempt to soothe me; "Maybe I should drive you home?"

"No!" I said, fighting my gag reflex. "I need— I need to get out there again."

This only made Letha sigh, her hand now reaching for my hair to be ready. "You have a crush out there or something...? You know that you don't need this stupid game to get whichever guy you want, right?"

I did my best to get up from the floor without immediately falling back down. Of course she didn't understand.

"Seriously, hold on—" Letha grabbed my hand, holding me back from leaving the bathroom. Her eyes were just as green as Roman's, and up close like this, I could see all their similarities; the upward curve of their nose, the same full lips, and the exact same way of weaving their brows together in worry. "You don't need to do anything just because you want to prove Roman wrong," she said, squeezing my hand. "I know you came down here to make a point, but... do what's best for you, okay?"

"Okay," I mumbled, tugging at her hand. The seven minutes were almost up, and I wanted to see the look on that girl's face after she left the closet with Roman. I wanted to see the look of bliss in her eyes, the hint of red in her cheeks, and watch her inhale with soft, sharp breaths just like the rest of his girls always did. The best part of watching this, was imagining that the girl was me instead— that I was the one feeling euphoric, and not her. And on the other hand, the masochistic part of me wanted to feel my heart burn with jealousy and my chest tighten with the ache I had gotten so familiar with. "Let's go. Please."

My nausea dulled down as I sat back down on the floor, realizing Roman was back. Maybe it was good that I missed the moment they came out— maybe it was good for me to spare my psyche, just this once? As my eyes met Roman's across the room, I couldn't help but notice the dark satisfaction on display across his lips. It was almost as though he knew— or maybe it was the fact that I probably looked a little sick? Did he like the look of pain in my eyes? I was reminded of Brooke Bluebell and her needle story... how he liked imposing pain on girls he found to be vulnerable. The fucking needle thing would haunt me forever.

I barely noticed that the bottle had been spun again, and I was yanked out of my mind-storm when Letha nudged me. "You don't have to," she tried, nodding towards the bottle that was now pointing at me.

My eyes immediately moved from the bottle and straight to Roman, who seemed to grow further amused. There was no way in hell I would back down now— maybe this would change his outlook on me? I had to prove I was fun, after all. Shrugging, acting as though it was no big deal, I reached for the bottle, spinning it.

I couldn't help but ponder if someone up there in the sky was playing games with me when the bottle pointed at the one person I had hoped it would be.

The girl Roman had just been with protested; "What? That's against the rules! He can't go in two times in a row!—"

"Sure can," Roman shot in, watching my every movement like a hawk— something told me he was a little excited about this as well. He got up from the couch once more, walking up to me with confident strides, reaching out for my hand.

As I looked up at him, breath short and choppy, I couldn't pry my eyes away from his. I had always imagined what it would be like to look up at Roman from this angle, to see the sheer look of satisfaction on his face as I— Oh no, my mind was wandering again, wasn't it? I did my best not to shiver as I accepted his hand, feeling our fingers intertwine as he smoothly got me up from the floor.

I didn't even dare to look at Letha in this moment, knowing how she probably felt about it, but I really didn't have time to dwell on it— and it didn't take long before Roman closed the closet door behind us, pulling me back into the moment.

We were quiet for a few seconds, the sounds of our breathing filling the closet— I didn't know what to say or do. The beating of my heart was so loud that I could barely hear my own thoughts, and the light in the small room was dim and warm, making it a rather disorienting experience. It didn't take long before I felt my back hit the wall, letting out a little wince; the alcohol was definitely doing wonders for my balance.

Roman snorted at the sight, emitting a soft laugh; "Careful, there,"

I let out the breath I had been holding, happy that he had been the first one to say something. "It's the vodka," I mumbled, rubbing the part of my head that had hit the wall.

Roman hummed; "Typical,"

"What is?"

"That you can't handle your drinks,"

I wanted to smack him— that was allowed in seven minutes of heaven, right? "So what if I can't? It's not a big deal,"

"Sure," Roman said, nodding to himself. "You just need to be broken in or something."

I wasn't the biggest fan of his choice of words— I was also not a fan of the thought of Roman breaking me more than he had already done, all whilst being completely unaware of it. Choosing not to comment on it further, I switched the subject; "So when was the last time you didn't do anything with a girl in this game?"

He needed a few seconds to scour his brain; "Never, I think,"

Typical. "Even back in middle school?"

"... Definitely,"

I held back a rather large groan— I should've predicted this.

Roman caught onto my eventual silence; "And I reckon this is your first time playing?"

"... Yeah,"

"Okay, I see," Roman ran his fingers through his hair, the usual smirk returning. "You know what usually happens in here, or...?"

I rolled my eyes; "I'm not an idiot,"

"I know," Roman's voice got lower, breathier, as he took a step closer. There wasn't much room for more steps, actually— it was getting rather cramped up at this point. "But if there's anything you've always wanted to try out and haven't dared to, now's the time."

My breath hitched as I hoped the thumping of my heart wasn't loud enough for him to hear. There were many things I wanted to try out, sure, but not here.

It was almost as though Roman could sense how nervous I was; he bent down a little, getting on my level before he whispered; "I won't tell Letha,"

... Oh? Feeling his hot breath against my skin, how dangerously close he was, was almost too much for me. The way he said it made me even more conscious of what was happening; I hadn't even told Letha how crazy I was about Roman yet, and I knew she'd be against it.

However, I was being served my biggest dream on a silver platter. Maybe if I got this bit over with, my feelings would subside and go back to being purely hateful again?

"Okay..." I mustered up the courage, letting out a shaky breath before I opened my mouth to speak; "Could you maybe... kiss me, then?" My words came out barely louder than a whisper. "I've just had a really shitty night."

Roman's expression remained unchanged. "I'm sorry to hear that,"

"... No, you're not,"

"Okay, you might be right," He let out a soft laugh against my lips, and my eyes quickly darted down to his hands to check if he was holding a needle or not. One could never be sure... and this was how I knew my anxiety was through the roof.

"So... you want a kiss? That's all?" Roman asked, looking rather pleased with himself and the situation.

This was too nerve-wracking. I kept imagining that he would switch up and tell me no, that he would reject me somehow and make me the only girl at school he didn't want to do anything with— that would definitely make me hate him even more. In a flash moment of weakness (which I later blamed the alcohol for), I sighed; "Just... could you? Or am I asking for too much?"

Something about Roman's expression changed— he seemed to realize what I was actually asking for before I fully understood it myself. Not to make out, not to drown in one another, but the simplest of all things romance; affection. Something gentle, something sweet, just to check if he had a sliver of anything resembling that in his system.

"You like me, don't you?" Roman whispered, nudging his nose against mine, eyes rounding out as he heard my breath hitch at the simple gesture. "This is what all of this has been about?"

Doing my best to still my breathing and not faint, I closed my eyes, revelling in the feeling. It was the smallest thing, yet it was a comfort in the midst of the conversation. "All of what?"

"Your anger," Roman let out a sigh, connecting our foreheads, closing his eyes as well. "You can't stand that you like me, can you?"

For some reason, I felt the urge to cry— I spent a few seconds pressing down the stream of tears that threatened to surface. Having someone say it out loud felt like a desperately needed release. "It's been a nightmare,"

Roman stilled, eventually letting out a hum which sent a shiver down my spine. "You know nothing about nightmares," he breathed against my lips. "If I tell Letha we fucked in here, you'll be living through your worst one."

For fuck's sake. I mumbled a curse as Roman laughed, clearly amused by the terrified look on my face. "No, I wouldn't do that," he teased, pulling away just a bit. "I'm not that bad, you know that, right?"

I huffed, not meeting his gaze anymore. Confessing to liking him had given him all the power over me in the world. "I don't know... You tend to be quite horrible,"

"And what horrible things do I do, may I ask?"

Oh, I was ready for this question— I had been ready for a while. "First of all, the fucking tater tots," I grumbled, meeting his amused eyes. "The fact that you pull my hair like you're five years old, you've drawn about a hundred dicks in my chemistry book, and the whole needle thing!"

"Needle thing?" Roman furrowed his brows— damn, he and Letha really had the same face, didn't they?

"Yeah, the needle thing! Brooke told us!" Something about the confusion on his face felt rather satisfactory; your turn. "You pricked her and her friend Rachel and just... laughed, or something!"

Remembering the incident, Roman burst out laughing. "Oh, that!" he said, putting a hand on my shoulder. "Yeah, that was fun, I can't lie. So, okay, maybe I'm a bit bad, but... you still like me." His eyes were sparkling with mischief, and I knew it could lead to no good. "You still want to kiss me, so you can't be too scared? Or maybe..." Roman's hand travelled up to my hair, tucking a strand behind my ear as he smirked. "Maybe you're just a massive masochist?"

"What? No!" My protests were quick and loud— I wondered what the people outside this closet thought we were doing. "Roman, just... Ugh, fuck this, I'm leaving."

As I reached for the door, Roman grabbed my hand with force I hadn't expected of him, pinning it above my head against the wall. Like this, he was even closer to me than he had been just under a minute ago, and my eyes went wide with the realization that I could physically feel his bottom lip against mine, not yet coming together in the kiss I so desperately craved.

"I'm not going to make this easy for you," he whispered, words slow and low. Something about this whole situation was so intense, I nearly gave in to a shiver. "Whatever this will be, you and I... won't be easy."

"There is no you and I," I mumbled, feeling my heart beat up against his chest. "We do this once, and then we forget it." Please.

Roman hummed, a cocky grin spreading across his plush, pink lips. "You think you'll be able to? I have a feeling you've wanted me for a while,"

Fuck's sake. I hated him even more when he was right. My gaze hardened as it met his, and I wondered how much time we had left. No matter how mad I was at him, I still wanted to kiss him, just once. This might be the only chance I'd ever get, and I was going to take it.

"Okay, then," Roman accepted my silence as an answer. Nudging my nose with his, he finally pressed his lips against mine with a softness I didn't know he had in him.

This was not what I had expected. Something about this kiss was shaking up my whole view of the world, along with my view of Roman. The most obnoxious guy with an unmatched arrogance could... kiss like this? Like he actually had a soul?

His lips moved against mine as though I was made of glass, and I felt his fingers intertwine with mine in the hand he was holding above my head. It sent shivers down my spine as my mind went haywire, wondering why he was being so careful with me. I brought my free hand up to cup his face, feeling how soft he was against my palm. I had expected him to be rough, aggressive... so what on earth was this?

Roman's arm snaked around my waist as he pulled me closer, and I let out a shaky breath against his lips— heat swirled in the pit of my stomach, feeling as though I was burning up from inside.

But just as it started to get heated, two knocks were heard at the door; Roman pulled away, a victorious smirk in place as though he had successfully proved his point. "Thirty seconds left," he said. "Now, convince me why I shouldn't tell Letha."

What? Still trying to catch my breath, I felt myself freeze up. How was I supposed to think clearly when I was in this state? Roman's hand slid out of mine, waiting for my answer; "So?"

"Just don't," I breathed, putting a hand on my chest to feel my heart— did all of this just happen? "Don't tell her."

"That's not good enough," His green eyes were drilling into mine, and it was clear that he wished to corner me. Sadist.

"I'll do your stupid assignment,"

"Nope,"

"I'll... fuck, Roman, I don't know!"

Roman snickered at my panic, fixing his hair, checking his clock; ten seconds left. "Fine, I'll be nice," he said, reaching out to swipe his thumb along the edge of my lip, wiping away some lipstick. "But you owe me."

Owe him? I wasn't the biggest fan of making a deal with the devil reincarnate in front of me. However, did I have any other choice? I let out a sigh of defeat; "... Fine,"

And this was when it truly hit me; I hated Roman Godfrey with all my heart— I hated the fact that he could make my heart flutter with the smallest gesture, that he could practically walk all over me with no remorse, and that he always looked so fucking good.

However, at the end of the day, what I hated most... was how much I wanted him.

Chapter 2: seven minutes in... hell

Summary:

After you made out with Roman during a game of seven minutes in heaven, he insists that you owe him for not telling Letha about it-- How can someone so beautiful be so evil?

Chapter Text

Paranoia. That was the only word that could describe the week that followed the party where Roman and I had kissed.

I had spent every waking moment wondering when Roman would show up to cash in his debt or prick me with a goddamn needle. His words lingered in my mind, haunting me; "Fine, I'll be nice. But you owe me," The reminder of those words sent a shiver down my spine, and I couldn't help but wonder how I could've been so stupid as to rope myself into something like this.

Roman knew I liked him. In fact, he knew it very well. I couldn't even mask my feelings with hatred anymore, and everything about that made me want to throw myself off a cliff-- that would probably be more merciful than whatever it was that I had in store.

After we had made out during seven minutes of heaven, I had to tell my best friend, Letha, that nothing had happened. If she found out that I had made out with her cousin, I doubt she'd want to have me hanging around any longer. And quite frankly, Letha was my favourite person in the whole world, so it was detrimental that she stayed close. She was like a ray of sunshine peeking out through heaps of stormy skies; there was no way in hell I'd lose her without a fight.

Which is why I needed to keep Roman in check, along with my body un-pierced by any incoming needles.

The first time I saw him after the party, was a few days later in the cafeteria at school. I had stopped in my tracks, completely turning to stone as I watched him with his friends. It was almost as though I was afraid he'd see me if I moved, and to my shock, that's exactly what happened-- as I shifted my weight from one foot to another, harshly gripping my tray of food, his eyes landed on me with a quickness that immediately threw me into a state of panic. I bolted with speed I didn't know I had, not stopping until I reached the other end of the school, panting.

The second time had been at the library. I had been looking for a specific book that was quite old, meaning I had to do a lot of searching-- the librarian had been of no help, of course. As I scoured the shelves of endless books, crouching down to get a look at the lower sections, I suddenly felt a pair of eyes on me from above.

I looked up to find Roman's green eyes staring at me from the other aisle; his height made it ridiculously easy to lean over, having no visual obstruction of my side of the shelf. Something about the smirk playing across his lips made me freeze up-- it felt like I was prey, about to be eaten whole. I let out a squeak of horror as I grabbed the first book I saw, not letting him get a word in before I dashed towards the exit without a second thought.

The third time was the absolute worst; I had been walking down the stairs with Letha, on our way to our shared history class, as we suddenly encountered Roman on his way up. I felt my heart beat against the books I now pressed tightly against my chest, holding my breath as he neared us with a conniving look on his face-- I was quite sure I had lost all the blood in mine.

As Roman and Letha had a conversation about some sort of family dinner later, I did my best to make myself as small as possible; I wondered whether I should slip away into the crowd or just throw myself down the stairs.

I was quite sure that it was clear to Roman why I was avoiding him, and I was even more sure that it also was amusing to him. It was rather obvious, with the way he obnoxiously eyed me up with a growing grin. "You okay?" he asked, nudging me. "You look spooked."

Asshole. Just the slightest touch was enough to make me flinch, and my words came out in a breathy mumble; "I'm fine,"

Roman nodded, exchanging a look with Letha. He grew taller when he took a step up, inching closer as he leaned over to check which books I had pressed up against my chest. His long, slender fingers reached forward to tug at one of the books to get a better look, and I would've missed the note he slipped down along the front of my history book if I had blinked. As Roman pulled away, dragging his fingers through his hair as though nothing had happened, I held my books as tight to my chest as I possibly could to not let the note slide down to the floor.

My heart was beating harder than ever as Roman made his way past me, his familiar cologne lingering in my system as Letha and I made it to class five minutes early. As she left to use the bathroom, I could finally put away my things, inhaling a shaky breath as I checked the note;

meet me behind school in an hour, or I tell Letha everything

I couldn't help the groan that escaped me, ripping the piece of paper to shreds. This was not going to end well.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

Somehow, I had managed to pry myself away from Letha for long enough to make it in time for my meeting with Roman. I was tugging at the sleeves of my jumper, anxiously ripping at the fabric. Wondering whether I should've worn protective gear to shield myself from any needle-kinks he might impose on me, I trembled with fear-- I didn't want to see him.

Despite my wishes, Roman eventually came around the corner, a rather mischievous smirk spread across his soft, pink lips as he neared me. His hands were tucked into his pockets as he leaned against the wall next to me, his green eyes etching themselves into my skull. His usual cardigan was draped around his shoulders and over his white shirt, tied in the front, as he crossed his long legs in the classic Roman Godfrey stance. "I'm glad to see you came,"

"As if I had a choice," I mumbled, glancing at our surroundings, not wanting to be caught alone with him here. I had to do everything in my power not to look at the casual swoop of his hair, not wanting to think about how handsome he looked right now. "What do you want?"

Roman blinked twice, almost as though he had expected me to say something else. "Isn't it obvious?"

I was afraid my heart was pounding audibly in my chest. "No," My gaze darted down to my shoes, kicking away a nearby rock. "Can't we just forget any of it ever happened?"

"Well, that was sort of the draft of the original plan," Roman said, shrugging. "But you've clearly not been able to forget it, with the way you've been avoiding me for a week now... So it seems we have to resolve this, somehow."

Did this mean that I had only made things worse for myself? I wanted to hit my head against the wall and bleed out-- that would probably feel better than what I was feeling on the inside right now. "The actual kiss hasn't been on my mind much... Mostly just the needles,"

Roman let out a huff-- was it a laugh? "I'm not going to fucking poke you, could you calm down about that?"

"I can't be sure when it comes to you, Roman!--"

"So you haven't thought about it?" He cut me off, eyes sparkling with the need to know. "The kiss?"

If I'd had something to throw at him, I would've done so in a heartbeat. Why was he so keen on knowing that? "Not much,"

"Only at night?"

I couldn't even hold back my grimace, listening to him snickering like a proud toddler. "Definitely not," I grumbled, now kicking at another rock. "Why does it matter to you?"

Roman shrugged; "I don't think you understand how intriguing it was to find out you've liked me all this time," He watched as I continued to tug at the sleeve of my sweater, looking like a nervous wreck. The image before him made his grin widen. "You've been the biggest bitch ever, do you know that? I was dead sure you hated my guts until you begged me to fucking kiss you!"

"I didn't beg!" I exclaimed, protesting. "In your fucking dreams, Roman!"

He rolled his eyes, taking a step towards me. Feeling his presence inching closer, I stopped kicking the scattered rocks around me, looking up to meet his gaze.

Roman leaned down, matching himself on the level of my widening eyes. He studied me as I froze to my spot like an icicle, holding my breath to not get swept up in thoughts of how good he smelled and how soft his lips looked up close. "You're still running your mouth," he mumbled, and I felt his eyes fall on my lips as well. "I thought you might get a little nicer if I complied with your little kiss."

His way of thinking had me furrowing my brows, confused. Was that why he kissed me? A tiny piece of my heart broke, the hope I had buried deep in my gut dissolving. Why had I ever hoped that his reasons for kissing me the way he did had been different? "I'll be nice if you agree that I don't owe you anything anymore. It's been driving me nuts,"

With this, Roman broke out into a rather abrupt laugh; "Are you kidding? There's no way in hell I'd absolve you of that, anymore,"

The laugh felt so damning, I couldn't help but shudder. I was two seconds away from kicking him instead of the rocks. "What do you want, then?"

Roman straightened up, the look on his face giving away that he was debating what to choose. "It's probably not something as bad as you expected it to be," he said, nodding to himself as he no longer met my hard gaze. "I'd just like it if you told me why you like me."

What? I stared up at him in disbelief, lips parting in shock. Had I avoided him like the plague over a simple question? Sure, it wasn't the most comfortable one to answer, but my mind had already concluded that he would stick me with needles like a voodoo doll and leave me for dead on a road somewhere. "Uh... Could I ask why?"

"Nope,"

I nodded; "Okay...?" Clearing my throat, I pondered where to start. I hadn't actually thought about this question, and I had to scour my brain for the answer. "I don't know," I eventually mumbled. "I guess I just think you're handsome." Saying it out loud physically pained me, but I knew I had to get this over with.

Roman blinked twice, meeting my gaze with a rather empty look about him. "That's it?"

"I don't know? I think so," I shrugged, searching through my mind for more. "You're my type, I suppose. Tall, brown hair, green eyes... And unattainable. I guess that a part of me likes that you'll never like me back." Saying this out loud, however, was even worse. I hadn't thought about it like that up until this moment.

Roman seemed even more confused than I did. "So it was nothing that I did?"

Something told me he was searching for something more meaningful, but I had always known that my crush was superficial. "I don't think so..."

What followed would haunt me for days on end; Roman broke out into a rather maniacal laugh, running his hands through his hair in clear denial. "So it's just the same, then," he said in between hiccups of laughter. "It's not about me at all!"

I could only watch as he went into some sort of a mental storm, biting down on his lower lip to suppress the noise. "I don't think you quite understand how it is for no one to like you for you," Roman continued, now pacing back and forth as his trail of words sped up; "You've probably never had that problem, right? Guys probably like you because you're nice to them, I've seen that multiple times. Or that one guy that just hasn't left you alone since you sat together during assembly that one time-- what the fuck was his name?"

I held my breath; what on earth was I witnessing? "Roman, I think you're spiraling, let's just breathe--"

"Daniel, wasn't it?" Roman finally looked back at me, a cramped smile on display along his lips. "He definitely likes you for you, right? Not just because you're cute? That must be fucking nice."

I had never imagined that I would pity someone for only being liked for their looks. Somehow, I found myself wanting to comfort him, and I had to fight that instinct. "It would probably be easier for you to find something real if you weren't such a prick," I mumbled. "If you didn't tug people's hair, throw stuff at them, or stab them with needles?"

That seemed to be enough for Roman to take a step back from his weird state, his pacing coming to a halt. Something seemed to be dawning on him, a crushing realization that should've come about ten years ago, but instead of taking it like an adult, he retaliated; "Well, you're not exactly doing any better than me! You've liked me for God knows how long, and you've treated me like utter crap!"

"Because you did the same to me!" I said, feeling my voice raise with my emotions. "You've had no interest in me, along with all the bullshit you've pulled all year! Don't you think it would probably be easier for me to like you for who you are if you had been a pleasant person to be around?"

Groaning, Roman turned his back to me, ready to walk away. After taking a few steps, he turned on his heel, facing me once more. Fury was burning in his green, green eyes, fists balling up as he spoke; "This is not over. You tell anyone just a tiny fraction of this conversation, I'll tell Letha I fucked you raw,"

My jaw fell in complete and utter shock as he walked away, cursing myself to the heavens and beyond. How had I managed to make this an even bigger mess than it was before I came? As I went back to kicking rocks, trying to catch my breath, bits of the conversation suddenly came back to me; did he just say that I was cute? That he had seen me with Daniel during assembly, and that he had spotted me talking to my previous flings?

This only made everything furthermore confusing; it was obvious that he didn't like me, either. But what on earth was going on in that brain of his?

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

The next time I saw Roman was a few days later in the hallway during rush hour. I had spent several nights tossing and turning, trying to decrypt the conversation that continued to haunt me. The conclusion I arrived at, was that he might be lashing out with the needles and the childish behaviour because he didn't know how else to express interest.

But then again, that would mean that he was very interested in me. I was sure something was wrong with that conclusion, but I couldn't pinpoint any other possible theory at this moment. I also couldn't shake how upset he looked when he found out my crush was purely superficial; was his need to be seen for who he was so overpowering?

So when I finally flagged him down, Roman was in a rush, and this was rather unfortunate; my legs were much shorter than his, and I had to go into a jog to not lose sight of him. Eventually, I caught up to him, grabbing his wrist and tugging at the sleeve of his shirt to get his attention.

Roman seemed rather confused, glancing down at me with a wild look in his eyes which quickly died out when he saw who it was. "What are you doing?--"

"You smiled at me in class," I confessed, feeling my cheeks redden. "The sun was hitting your eyes in a way that made them extra green, and you smiled at me and handed me a pencil. That's when I knew I liked you." Slowly, I pried my fingers away from his wrist, letting out the breath I didn't know I had been holding. It felt like an enormous weight had lifted off my shoulders, like the anxiety that clung to me had been washed away in a calm stream of water in the mountains.

Why did I feel such a strong need to tell him my crush wasn't purely superficial? That it had stemmed from the simplest act of kindness? I couldn't quite put my finger on it. Did I pity him that much?

Roman's pupils expanded, and he stood as if glued to his spot. People kept passing us by, but it was as though all the surrounding sound died out. It was clear that his mind was racing, his brows drawing together in confusion-- or was it disgust? I couldn't be sure. Either way, my heart was thumping so hard in my chest that it hurt.

I cleared my throat; "Have... a nice day," Before he could answer or make fun of me, I turned on my heel and bolted down the hall, knowing my heart wouldn't be able to take it if he shut me down once more.

I couldn't take any more of this. Clutching my heart as I made it to my locker, I knew I had to get ready for class and that I didn't have time for the crushing feeling taking over my chest.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

A big part of me had hoped that our last interaction would be the end of it all. That I wouldn't have to owe Roman anything anymore, that he wouldn't be threatening to tell Letha that we kissed or fucked or whatever-- I should've known that was an unattainable reality.

I was practically falling asleep at the end of a long day of school. Exhausted, I allowed myself to close my eyes as I leaned my head against my palm, elbow at my table, waiting for class to start. A worrying thought popped into my head as I realized that chemistry was the only class I shared with Roman, which meant that he would probably be showing up any time soon.

With a yawn, I blinked several times, hoping to wake up as I sat back in my chair. I was about to do some stretches, but as I turned to my right, I let out a yelp, nearly falling off my seat.

And I would've fallen right down to the floor if Roman hadn't grabbed the edge of my chair, holding me back with one hand as though it was nothing. "Careful, there,"

That's exactly what he had said when we were in that damn closet playing seven minutes in heaven. I shivered, getting a severe case of deja vu as I looked back at him in disbelief. "When on earth did you show up?"

"Right around the time you nodded off," Roman's books were already on the table-- had I genuinely slept for a minute or two? How could I have missed this? He let go of my seat with a snicker, shaking his head; "You're quite the case, aren't you?"

I didn't like the sound of that. "What do you want? Why are you sitting here?"

"Could you relax?" Roman rolled his eyes, his mood worsening by the second. "Look around, Sherlock, there's nowhere else to sit."

It pained me to realize he was right. With a huff, I fought the urge to kick him under the table. As the teacher finally entered the classroom, excusing himself for being a few minutes late, I let out a sigh of relief; I hoped to avoid talking to Roman as much as possible from now on. After I had confessed to him and gotten nothing in return again, I was dead tired of seeing his gorgeous face-- it was physically painful, at this point.

As class started, I reached into my bag to find a pencil. A good minute passed by as I rummaged around, which eventually garnered Roman's attention; he immediately knew what I was looking for. He turned to me with a spare pencil which he had lying about on his table, holding it out in front of me.

Someone up there was definitely playing pranks on me-- I was sure of it now. With an embarrassed smile, I watched as the sun hit the green of his eyes, illuminating them further as I reached for the pencil. The tips of our fingers touched, just for a few seconds, but it felt like I had almost burned myself with how my nerves reacted to the nudge of his hand against mine.

Roman seemed to understand the irony of the situation, the corners of his mouth tugging upwards into a dizzying look of kindness.

There it was. The root of all my problems-- the simplest act of warmth along with the most beautiful smile I had ever seen. The bullshit that started it all.

I hummed to myself as I broke eye contact, crouching over my table to start taking notes, desperate to distract myself. Every fibre of my being felt like it was buzzing with electricity, unable to calm down.

It didn't take long before Roman shoved a small note onto my part of the table. I gave him a look before I opened it, sighing.

we need to talk. meet me by my car after school

Turning to Roman, I couldn't help but glare; this again? But his smirk melted me in more ways than one, and I knew that it could have consequences if I didn't go.

Fuck.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

I waited until there were almost no cars in the parking lot in front of the school, hiding away in the library in the meantime. I didn't exactly want to be seen talking to him. As I finally walked out past the front entrance, I held my breath as I spotted Roman leaning against his red jaguar, typing away on his phone. I wondered who he was texting-- was it Brooke from the cheerleading team? No, it couldn't be; unless she still wanted to be with him after he pricked her with the legendary needle.

It didn't take long for Roman to put away his phone, watching me as I neared him. Something about the way his hair lay in waves over his forehead made him look like even more of a heartbreaker than he already was. "Long time no see, hm?"

I didn't even want to fake being entertained by that-- we both knew that we'd seen each other in class less than twenty minutes ago. "What do you want?"

Roman rolled his eyes; "Can't you at least act like you like me? We both know you do,"

Something about being called out like that didn't sit right with me, but I swallowed my curses. I had to be on his good side, after all, so that he wouldn't turn around and tell Letha what had happened between us. "Did you want me to come skipping down the stairs and run to you?" I asked, getting a good look at him. "Or maybe a blowjob before I bake you a pie?"

A humoured smirk spread across his lips, giving in to a chuckle. "You could at least start by standing a little closer?" Roman put his hands up in the air as though he was surrendering; "Look ma, no needles!"

I huffed, complying. I took a few steps forward, watching the last car leave in my peripheral view. It was definitely not a good idea to be alone with him like this-- I should've known better.

This didn't seem to be enough for Roman, who proceeded to tap the spot next to him on the hood of his car.

I groaned; "Roman, come on--"

In a swift motion, he hooked his fingers inside my front pockets, dragging me forward as I yelped. Roman grabbed my hips, forcing me down on the car with a soft thud. With wide eyes, I turned to him, watching his hands disappear back into his pockets.

"You're infuriating," Roman mumbled under his breath, fishing out a pack of cigarettes from his right pocket. He held it out in front of me; "Want one?"

Honestly, I had only smoked once. It had resulted in me coughing up what felt like half a lung. "No, thanks,"

He shrugged, lighting up a cigarette as he hummed. This little dance around why he had told me to come made me further nervous, once again reaching for the sleeve of my sweater, tugging at the seams that had come loose. The smell of nicotine infiltrated my nose, and I turned to him just in time to watch him exhale a few rings of smoke, eyes transfixed on them as they evaporated into thin air.

Finally, Roman spoke up; "I'm calling for a truce,"

What? My eyes widened, scanning him for lies. "... What's the catch?"

Roman turned to me, a slight smile splayed across his lips. "You know me too well," he said, chuckling as a light breeze passed us. "I want us to play a game, and then all is forgotten."

"Oh no," I blurted out. "What kind of game, Roman? Can't you take pity on me just once?--"

I immediately shut up as I felt his arm wrap around me, holding out his cigarette in front of my mouth between his fingers. I wasn't about to start fighting him in an empty parking lot, so I parted my lips, accepting the cigarette despite knowing I would cough up everything I had eaten for lunch if I inhaled properly.

Roman's face was suddenly very close to mine; "Ever heard of this game... Wait, what was it called? Seven minutes in hell?"

For fuck's sake. I watched as he laughed, amused by his joke. Still, my eyes darted down to his bouncing leg, watching as he gave away a sliver of nervousness. I reached for the cigarette, getting it out of my mouth; "Sounds about right," Balancing it between my fingers, holding it out in front of his mouth just as he had done to me, Roman hummed as he wrapped his lips around the cigarette, taking a puff.

Before Roman could take it back into his hand, I pulled the cigarette away from him, putting it back into my mouth. Something about sharing the cigarette was making a familiar ache between my legs throb, which in turn made me cross my legs. I didn't inhale the smoke into my lungs, keeping it in my mouth before breathing it out, knowing it was hard to differentiate between that and the real thing. "Where would we play?" I eventually said, glancing at him.

Now that we were sitting like this, Roman's arm around me, I realized we hadn't been this close since that party where we had kissed. Something about his embrace was comforting, despite me knowing that he was doing it to take the piss out of me. However, my steadfast belief in his reasons became shaky as I met his eyes, watching how unusually big his pupils were as he looked down at me, a certain calmness about him. "My car?"

I couldn't help but giggle as I handed him the cigarette, our fingers meeting in the exchange. "I'm not making out with you in your car,"

"Why not?"

"Every single cheerleader slut at this school has been in the back of that thing,"

Roman shrugged; "Not everyone. Eleven out of fifteen,"

"Ew, you're not making it any better!--"

"Fine!" he huffed, giving me a squeeze with the arm he had around me. Roman put out his cigarette by throwing it to the ground, giving it a proper stomp before he turned to me, a mischievous smirk on display. "No one has been in the front, though."

It was hard to say no when he looked at me like this; how was it possible for someone so conniving to be so beautiful? I had to look away from Roman-- it was getting impossible to breathe. Tugging at my sleeves once more, I realized I had ripped out a new seam. "Look, I have to say I'm a little confused... You're not even into me, so I don't get why you'd want to kiss me again," I let go of my sweater, realizing I would probably manage to rip it all apart if I didn't calm down. "It really is a power thing for you, isn't it?"

Roman hummed, rubbing my arm in a soothing manner as he stared out at the parking lot with a rather hollow look in his eyes. "Yeah... That's definitely what it is,"

I didn't have time to wonder why he didn't sound so convinced. As I dared to look at him again, I watched him lost in thought, pondering something. I took that as my cue to get out of playing his game; "Making out would probably be fun and all, but don't you think it is more beneficial for you if we maybe got to... I don't know, know each other?"

Confused, Roman's gaze darted back to me. "Why?"

"You seemed to be a little upset that I didn't like you because of you, remember?" I gave him a playful nudge, drawing forth a smile. "Instead of imposing your weird dominance kink or whatever it is on me, wouldn't you want to prove that there's more to you?"

This seemed to strike a chord with Roman, who slowly started to nod in approval. "That... doesn't sound so bad,"

I damn right hoped so-- I let out a shaky breath, relieved to not become the twelfth girl to end up in Roman's car.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

I couldn't believe that I had managed to fix myself up with a date with the Roman Godfrey. He was practically known for never going out on dates with anyone, but here I was, running around my room trying to find something nice to wear.

However, there was one tiny hoop I had to get through-- Letha was on speaker phone as I rummaged through my drawers, and my heart was racing as I tried to avoid her questions."I still don't get why you can't hang out today!" Letha whined, clearly upset with me. "I thought you were going to help me pick out some shoes down at the sale!"

I grimaced, feeling like the biggest prick on the planet. "I'm sorry, Letha, I'm just not feeling too good..." With a heavy heart, I could hear her sulk on the other end as I finally found the perfect bag.

"I've barely seen you this week... You've been so jumpy, I just feel like you're avoiding me. Did I do something?"

No, no! I was about to protest until I heard a sound coming from my driveway; I made my way to my window, glancing down at Roman's red car, watching as he parked. Clearing my throat, I rushed to my phone; "Letha, I'm so fucking nauseous, I think I need to throw up... I'm so sorry, could I call you back later?"

I heard her sigh; "Get better soon, okay?--"

As Roman started honking outside, clearly impatient, I had to leave the call without even saying goodbye. Groaning, I gathered my stuff, making my way down the stairs and outside with hurried steps. "Stop that!" I said, trying to steady my breathing as I approached the car. "My parents are inside!"

"So what?" Roman's cocky smirk was on display as always, tapping his fingers against the steering wheel. "Whatever dumb fuck told you I'm a patient man, is a dumb fuck." Roman got out of his car to open my door on the other side. It was nice to see that he had a gentleman bone in him-- it gave me hope that this date wouldn't crash and burn.

And weirdly enough, it actually went quite well. I had been worried that he'd take me out shooting or whatever it was that he did in his free time, but Roman settled for something simple-- we were currently sat in my favourite café in the city, having the most normal conversation we'd ever had.

"You're kidding me?" Roman said, putting down his coffee with a look of shock on his face. "You've never seen The Godfather?"

I couldn't help but huff-- this was a solid reminder that he still was a guy at the end of the day. "I haven't gotten to it, I guess,"

"Well, you have to!" He ran his fingers through his styled hair, shaking his head in disapproval. Roman was wearing a different shirt today that I hadn't seen before, and I was getting the feeling that he had actually dressed up a bit despite how casual this date was. "What else haven't you seen?"

"Uh, I don't know?--"

"What else haven't you done, is probably a better question," Roman was grinning from ear to ear now, eyes sparkling in anticipation. "First kiss?"

"David Parker, eighth grade," I put down my milkshake with a smirk, happy to be sizing him up. "You?"

Roman seemed beyond amused; "Amanda Reiley, sixth," He leaned forward, placing his elbows on the table, intrigued that I wasn't backing down from his intrusive questions. "First time?"

I had to suppress a cough, feeling as though I was choking on air. There was no way in hell I'd tell him I hadn't had sex yet. "... Some guy I met on vacation last year in Greece, don't remember his name,"

"Really, now?" Roman hummed, leaning back against his chair. "Not buying it. You squirm like a virgin every time I look at you."

My breath caught in my throat-- "Pardon?"

It seemed that my reaction only amused him, but he still spared me by brushing over it. "My first time was with Denise Campbell, ninth grade. Was really sweet, actually,"

I tried to shake off the fact that Roman had been right in his deductions. The story of his first time was unexpected, and he had been quite young-- concerningly young. "Roman Godfrey and sweet don't usually go together, in my book. Did you light candles or something?" I took a sip of my milkshake, watching him break out into a smile.

"Honestly? I think she lit one," he said, a soft chuckle following.

I had forgotten how beautiful his laugh was. Flustered, I put away my milkshake, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear as I met his gorgeous, green eyes. There was a calmness about him now, something I had trouble getting used to. It was a big contrast to the way he had looked at me while we played seven minutes in heaven, or the way he had been looking at me the whole week I had avoided him. The usual feeling of unease that crept up my system whenever he was around was long gone-- it was almost as though we were friends.

Nervous about my next question, I started picking at my nails; "So where did it go wrong?"

"Pardon?"

I didn't meet his gaze anymore. "When did it become casual to you?"

"Sex?"

"Sex,"

Roman hummed, taking a rather long sip of coffee. I wondered whether I had gone too far with the question, but he didn't seem fazed. "Didn't get too far with being sweet, I suppose,"

This was definitely a chapter in Roman's life that I hadn't expected to hear about-- who had broken his heart? And why was it comforting to know that he'd had that experience? Something about it made him more human. "That's sad," I mumbled, forcing myself to leave my nails alone. "Sweet usually gets you quite far."

Something about that seemed to intrigue him; he moved to the edge of his chair, closer. "Don't you girls usually like the bad guys? That seems to work well, in my experience,"

I shrugged; "It can be fun for a week or two. Any longer than that, and your heart starts to tire,"

"Ah," was all Roman said, tapping his fingers against the table in an impatient manner. "Would you want to get ice cream? It's on me."

This conversation was starting to give me whiplash. "I'm sold," I eventually answered, shooting him a smile. It was nice to know that he wanted to continue the date despite my intrusive questions-- I couldn't lie; I was rather enjoying myself. And my ego was getting the biggest inflation it'd had in a while, remembering he didn't usually go out on dates at all.

About half an hour later, we were now walking down the street with our ice cream, once again debating why I hadn't watched The Godfather-- boys really love that movie, don't they? I took the liberty of looking up at him as he explained the plot to me in excessive detail, watching his hands flail around in excitement as he spoke, eyes round and green, and the way a single strand of hair lay in front of his eyes, straying from his stylings.

The man I had hated this whole year suddenly became a person to me. A person with interests, quirks, and feelings-- weirdly enough. Roman didn't come off as a spoiled brat right now, and I could barely remember a time when I would run away from him and his needles. Like this, I could imagine sweet moments with Roman, possibly even holding his hand as we walked down this street, doing normal stuff together.

In another lifetime, I would have really liked just doing laundry and taxes with you.

However, I was quickly yanked out of my daydreams when I spotted a familiar figure leaving the shoe store across the street. With a panicked yelp, I grabbed Roman, dragging him down the nearest alleyway as I felt my blood run cold.

Roman looked beyond confused; "What are you?--"

"Letha!"

His mouth formed an 'o', watching me press myself up against the wall. "She doesn't know?"

I shook my head, letting out a shaky breath. This was definitely not what I needed right now. If she found out I was here with Roman and that I had lied to her, I was sure she'd have my head. Why couldn't I just melt into the wall and become immaterial?

With ease and calm, Roman grabbed my finished ice cream, putting it down on the ground along with his own before nearing me. "We'll wait it out,"

What? "Thought you were ready to rat me out?" I leaned forward, glancing past the corner of the alley, making sure Letha hadn't seen us.

"Well..." Roman put his hand on my shoulder, guiding my back to the wall once more. "I know she'd kill you, and you can't die before watching The Godfather."

Had I not been preoccupied with being quiet, I would've groaned right in his cocky face. The hand he had on my shoulder burned against my skin, and I was getting flashbacks to our time in the closet at the party where we had kissed. "I've repaid my debt to you now, anyway," I mumbled, warily glancing past the edge of the corner where we were standing, watching Letha from afar.

Roman's hand on my shoulder quickly made its way into my hair, fingers twisting themselves into the nape of my neck, forcing me to face him. I let my breath escape me as my lips parted, watching him with big, wide eyes; what was happening? It was at this moment that I realized how close he was standing, how he was practically pressed up against me.

There was something sinister about the look on Roman's face-- it suddenly dawned on me that he was still the same person, even though he had buried this side of him for a few hours. He would always thrive when seeing someone in an anxious state, feel joy at any visible conflict or misery, and it dawned on me how bad of a situation this was when his next words came out in a dangerous whisper; "I could just call her over here, do you know that?" Roman's grip on my hair tightened, almost enough to make me wince. "You've made quite a mess of yourself, sneaking behind her back. I could ruin you in a second."

"You won't, though," Fucker.

Intrigued, Roman's green eyes sparkled; "And why are you so sure of that?"

My chest was heaving against him, hating every second, every minute of this encounter. When had he turned into such a sadist? Was it after Denise Campbell in ninth grade? I wanted to make sure I asked him that next time. "Because this gets you high," I hissed. "This feeling that you get from watching me get scared? You're addicted. You're a fucking junkie."

I felt Roman breathe out against my lips, leaning closer, eyes burning into mine. I could see the flickering flames in them, and I knew that I had set them alight-- I was quite literally playing with fire at this point. "Well, this is who I am," he said through gritted teeth. "Do you get it now?"

"Get what?"

"Why no one likes me," Now, the fire died out, turning into an unintelligible emotion swimming in the green of his eyes. I didn't need to be a specialist to understand that he was baring his coping mechanism for me to see. "Why no one ever will. And why you will go back to hating me once we're done here."

It felt as though I had finally finished a puzzle with five thousand pieces. This was it. Had Roman made himself so unlovable to protect his feelings? Were all his stupid quirks just means to scare away girls so that they would stop liking him? I couldn't help but pity him-- beneath his harsh exterior, I could sense who he was beneath all of it. In a flash of emotions, I reached out to touch his face with a wary, gentle touch.

Roman's eyes widened, confused, as I moved away the strand of hair that strayed from the rest.

"I know you said this wouldn't be easy," I said, voice soft. "Whatever would ensue between us. And I spent a lot of time thinking about that, actually, and I think the answer is that you just make it hard for yourself." Sighing, I let my hands rest against his shoulders, watching his every move and reaction. It was obvious that he was caught off guard. "I pity you, Roman. But I thank you for making me realize how much guts one must have to feel... Why are you so scared?"

Roman just stared at me, his breathing coming out in shallow breaths through his nose. He stood as if frozen to his spot, and his hand left my hair, falling to his side as his eyes never left mine. "I'm not scared," he eventually said.

"You're terrified,"

"No,"

"There's no point denying, it's really fucking obvious--"

"No, it isn't!" Roman snarled, grabbing my hands, and prying them off of him. "Maybe I just don't like you in that way, have you ever considered that?"

I shrugged; "I have. But it still doesn't change the fact that I can read the fear on your face like an open fucking book,"

Groaning, Roman let out an exasperated sigh. He let go of my hands, the fury apparent in his unsteady breathing. It was obvious that he had never confronted his issues head-on, and that he didn't like the process one bit. "You need to watch your mouth,"

"Or what?" It was as though my fear had escaped me, staring him down with challenge burning its way through my veins. "You're going to tell Letha we fucked or whatever? Go ahead, see what I care! Just know that I will be telling the whole school that your dick is smaller than my pinky if you do."

Roman's eye twitched as he let out a guttural growl, body tensing up as he balled his fists, one of them returning to my hair. It was clear that I had angered him; he grabbed a fistful, yanking my head upward with a force that made me wince, pulling me flush against him. It was at this moment that I felt something press up against my stomach-- my eyes widened with the realization that he was hard. "Do you still like me?" he asked, his breath tickling the underside of my nose.

When I refused to answer, Roman took my silence as a yes. "You're going to hurt yourself if you continue to,"

"Wasn't it you who proclaimed me a masochist?" I answered, a smirk forming on my lips. Something told me that I had him cornered.

And I was right-- it was Roman's turn to go silent, staring into my eyes as multiple emotions flashed before him. Standing like this with him was almost comforting; I had finally deciphered him. I knew that he had practically built himself a fortress of hate and fired the canons at any signs of intrusions. He was so desperately human right now-- it was making me dizzy. Or was that just his harsh grip on my hair?

"Roman?"

A hum.

"You can kiss me now if you want to,"

The hand in my hair loosened its grip, and I watched as Roman inhaled a long breath, no longer conflicted.

And so our lips came together in the alley, a rather hungry kiss ensuing. My hands went up into Roman's hair, letting out soft gasps against him as he wrapped his arms around me, pulling me closer to him with a burning need. I could taste the remnants of the chocolate flavoured ice-cream on his tongue, the sweetness mixing in with the roughness of our kiss. I wondered whether he could taste the vanilla on mine-- chocolate and vanilla were my favourite mix, anyway.

I knew there was a possibility of Letha spotting us if she walked our way, but it only made me more desperate for Roman. I had missed him dearly, the memories of our last kiss having haunted me through every hour of every day. There was no doubt in it now-- he wanted me too. It gave me such an immense rush, along with the satisfaction of feeling how hard he was against me, the throbbing of his cock continuing against my stomach as he pressed me further into the wall behind me. Something felt wrong about him being aroused after our fight, especially now that we were practically in public, but I knew I didn't want to push him away just yet.

I was completely breathless by the time Roman shifted, his thigh now pressing up against the apex of my own. Caught off guard, I whimpered as he grabbed my hips, moving my hips against him as the kiss deepened, growing further needy. I could feel it in my bones; not only did he want me, he needed me. This was just about the biggest high I had ever had. Roman Godfrey-- all mine in this moment.

The friction between my legs, feeling his cock continuously brush up against my stomach through our clothes, had me gripping his shoulder, disconnecting our kiss to catch my breath. My head rolled back against the wall behind me as I pondered how I had allowed this to happen, not used to pleasure caused by others.

Roman's fingers wrapped around my throat, holding me in place as we rocked against each other, lips hovering above one another before they came crashing together once more, unable to keep away. I let out a broken whimper, my hands flying back up into his hair, pulling him closer as pleasure coursed through my veins in a way I hadn't ever felt before. I couldn't quite put my finger on what this was, but I had never been this certain that I liked it.

I let out a broken moan as my head rolled back once more, which in turn had Roman connecting our lips, muffling any sounds. This was where I was reminded that we were in public, wondering if I had gone absolutely mad-- I blamed it all on him. His beautiful eyes, his strong arms, and his addicting, soft lips. As Roman continued to grind me up against his thigh, pulling away to watch my lips part and my body squirm in pleasure, I gazed up at the way the corners of his mouth turned up into his signature smirk. He knew exactly what he was doing-- messing with me like this, practically in public.

It took a lot of willpower for me to push him away, whimpering slightly at the loss of contact. "We-- We can't," I said, catching my breath.

Like this, I could see how disheveled Roman's hair was, how his lips looked swollen with kisses, and it made my stomach flip-- how was it possible for someone to be so beautiful, even when completely unraveled?

Roman shrugged, grinning from ear to ear. It was clear that he was scanning my look of arousal; "My car is right around the corner,"

"Okay...?"

Leaning forward, Roman captured my lips in a short kiss. "I can park it somewhere desolate," he said, nipping at my lower lip.

I couldn't help but shiver-- that sounded really fucking nice at the moment, but I knew I had to control myself. And I wasn't about to lose my virginity in a car? "Another time," I mumbled, struggling to catch my breath. Who would've known that arousal could cloud the mind like this?

Roman nodded, accepting my words as a promise. "I'll hold you to that,"

Oh no-- This again? Great.

Just great.

Chapter 3: the same rain

Summary:

After your date with Roman, you find yourself in a sea of questions-- Will you drown or will you float?

Chapter Text

Long ago, back in middle school, I picked up a sentence from a book that etched itself into my mind; "It is the same rain that you loved that drowned you,"

Every minute of every day felt like I was drowning. Thoughts of Roman were continuously holding my head underwater, making it hard to breathe or function properly. Flashbacks to how his hands gripped my hips, the way it felt to have his lips move against mine with unmatched hunger, and his dizzyingly beautiful smile threatened to suffocate everything I was— had I been consumed?

Returning to school was hard, following my date with Roman this weekend. I could barely walk beside Letha without feeling like I was about to faint from the guilt, and I had to get away, just for a moment. So, I ended up in the library, bringing the book I had borrowed a few days ago. I closed my eyes as I leaned against a shelf in a desolate area, enjoying the peace and quiet. Here, Letha wasn't suspicious of me. Here, there were no prying eyes around, ready to bust me as the worst friend in the world.

However, Roman was here. I could sense that it was him before I had even opened my eyes because I could smell the specific cinnamon cigarettes he smoked. It didn't take long for my heart to start drumming in my chest, and I eventually dared to pry my eyes open.

Roman was standing a few steps away from me, holding out an open book in front of him as though he wasn't here to see me at all. It gave me the time to scan him once more; the way his hair hung over his eyes in soft waves, the way his hands were practically the same size as the book, and how he chewed on his lower lip as though he was deep in thought. When he realized that he had my attention, he slowly moved his gaze from the book and to me, his pupils immediately dilating no matter whether he wanted them to or not. However, in pure Roman fashion, he couldn't suppress his growing smirk; "Don't mind me," he said. "Just reading."

"I see..." I held back a giggle; "What are you reading?"

Roman turned the book with a swift flick of his wrist, as though I wouldn't be able to see him do it if he was quick enough. "Uh... It looks like I've picked up Pride and Prejudice,"

It was too late to suppress the snort that escaped me-- I immediately covered my mouth with my hand, watching as Roman's eyes widened, holding back a laugh as well. "Definitely the book for you," I said, trying to recover. "Just perfect. Liking it so far?"

The tension between us was palpable, especially since we weren't addressing what had happened this weekend. It was almost as though I could feel it wrap around me, clawing at my heart-- why was I so happy to see him, and why was it so damn hard to breathe?

All the air I was fighting to keep in my lungs seeped out the second I heard Roman's gorgeous laugh again, watching him smile the most genuine smile I had ever seen splayed out across his lips. "Nope," he said, putting the book away. "This looks like complete and utter shit."

I couldn't help but gasp; "You insult me. That book is a classic!"

"Yeah? Classic case of the snores,"

Groaning, I rolled my eyes as I turned away from him, hoping to suppress my smirk. "What are you doing here, Roman? Don't you have class?"

Roman shrugged, moving closer to me. I watched him lean against the shelf next to me through my peripheral view, holding my breath-- why was this such a thrill? "You're right," he said, clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth as he scanned me in a rather obnoxious manner. "I just didn't feel like going. And then I saw you coming in here, so I just wanted to say hi."

I swallowed hard; he wanted to say hi? Roman wanted to... talk to me? Something about that concept was mind-boggling. This definitely wouldn't have happened a week ago. "You didn't call, y'know?" I said, daring to face him.

"Call?" Roman's brows drew together, his green eyes shimmering as he crossed his arms over his chest. "You wanted me to call?"

"Well..." I immediately wanted to take it back-- why had I said that? Stupid! "I don't know, Roman, isn't that what guys usually do after... whatever it was that we did?"

He blinked a few times, biting down on his lips with a puzzled expression on his face. "Did what?"

Something about the way he was batting his lashes at me made me realize he was taking the piss, as always. I groaned, rolling my eyes as I stepped away from the shelf, turning my back to him as I walked to the one opposite us. There was no way in hell I'd adhere to his preferred outcome of this conversation, no way in hell I'd spell it out. "Nothing, Roman. Forget it,"

"Come on!" he said, stepping towards me with a chuckle. "Play along, will you? Just messing around." Roman's arm wrapped around my waist, pulling my back flush against him as he guided my hair to the side, leaning down to press a soft kiss against my neck.

My brain nearly shut down at the feeling of his lips against my skin, but I knew I had to fight it. How would it look if I closed my eyes and let him do whatever he wanted to me right now? In public, again? I let out a squeak, the physical contact feeling like an active elective shock, and I pushed him away as he laughed.

"You can't do that!" I huffed, trying to keep my voice low as I scoped out the area around us, making sure no one saw. As discreetly as I could, my eyes darted down for less than a second, checking whether he was hard again-- I couldn't shake the memory of how he'd gotten aroused after seeing me scared out of my mind this weekend. But I could let out a relieved sigh when I saw that he wasn't, and my cheeks flushed red with the realization that he had just kissed me.

"Fine, alright!" Roman put his hands in the air, taking a step back as he continued to laugh. "So you wanted me to call, is that it?"

Shrugging, I did my best to hide the redness of my face by looking down at the floor. It was rather embarrassing that he knew that I wanted him to contact me-- I hoped he didn't think I was desperate, or something. "I didn't," I mumbled. "I didn't mean it like that."

"You didn't?"

"Nope,"

"Okay... Is this the sort of situation where you wanted me to want to call you?" Roman took a big breath, holding back another laugh. "You girls and your ways... If you wanted to fuck, you could've called me first, y'know?"

That was definitely not what I wanted. Not yet, at least. My eyes rounded out with the realization that Roman's motives were clearly not as gallant and pure as I had made them out to be in my head. "Go away," I mumbled, trying not to look too disappointed. "You know what I feel for you, and I don't need you to rub it in my face. Go to class."

Roman rolled his eyes, taking a step towards me. In my attempt to avoid him, I felt my back hit the shelf behind me, and I looked up at him with big, worried eyes as he cornered me. He pressed himself further up against me as he put his hand next to my head. "I'm not making fun of you. I'm dead serious,"

It felt as though my heart was thudding against his chest, trying to beat him away. "Dead serious about what?"

Roman shrugged, flashing his teeth in a rather sinister-looking smile before leaning down to whisper in my ear; "Call me if you want to,"

"Want to...?"

"To fuck," Roman pressed a kiss right next to my ear, which had my breath hitching. My hand flew up to his chest, ready to push him off of me, but it was as though my body refused to comply with my wishes.

"That's not--" I had to clear my throat before continuing, realizing my brain was threatening to shut down and become another one of his mindless girls. "That's not exactly what I had in mind..."

Roman pulled away from my cheek, nudging his nose against mine. "Tell me, then,"

Why was it so hard to keep a straight thought around this man? "Just... I don't know, is that all you want from me? Sex?" I had to swallow rather hard, letting out a shaky breath against him. Everything about this made my heart drop.

"Well..." Roman paused, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. "What more would you want from me?"

Looking up at him, meeting his green eyes, was too dangerous. I had to look away and try to discard the fluttering of my stomach at every single touch from him. It quickly became obvious that Roman probably didn't know how to handle anything deeper than just casual sex. Everything about it made me sigh; "Roman, I think you know very well what I want from you... And I think it's time for you to find out whether you want the same. Because if not, I need you to leave me alone,"

I put my hand on his chest, making way for me to leave. There wasn't much time to stare at the beautifully stunned expression on his face, wondering what on earth he had done wrong.

All I knew was that we either did this my way or no way.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

I had successfully made it to the next day, eyes a little puffier than before. My heart was practically in pieces after yesterday's conversation with Roman, wondering whether or not he would ever be interested in me the same way I was about him. After everything we had done together, I still hadn't gotten any confirmation from him that he reciprocated-- it made my whole body ache with a numbness I hadn't felt before.

I was getting a little conscious about my puffy eyes, so I decided to put on the pair of sunglasses I had in my bag despite being inside the cafeteria.

Letha watched me, unable to hold back her giggles; "You look ridiculous. Take them off, please?"

"Stop it," I huffed, crossing my arms over my chest as I watched her finish her lunch. "I think I just had an allergic reaction to something." Lying to Letha again, even if it was something as small as this, made me feel more like a piece of shit than before.

Everything about this situation made me feel horrible. I had put my friendship with Letha on the line, and for what? Some guy that didn't see me as anything more than a sex object?

It seemed that I wasn't the best liar; Letha moved to the edge of her seat, scanning me with a worried look on her face; "Are you okay?" she tried, reaching out to touch my shoulder. "Maybe you're still sick from the weekend... Should I drive you home?"

This was killing me-- absolutely killing me. How was it possible for someone to be so sweet? "No, I'm fine! I promise," The kind look in Letha's green eyes was starting to feel like a drill into my skull, and I didn't know how long I could last with sneaking behind her back concerning my feelings for Roman.

Eventually, Letha made peace with my glasses and odd behaviour, but I still couldn't shake the slight tremble in my legs; I was getting close to confessing, my guilt rising to the brink of my capacity.

Even worse, was that the tremble didn't get any better later that day when I met Roman in an unusually empty stairway. Everything about it made me want to groan and evaporate-- just my luck.

There were barely any people who used this part of the school, which was why I often took this way up to the second floor. It seemed like I wasn't the only one who had taken use of the desolate space; I watched as Roman sat on the banister further up, handing a guy a few dollars in exchange for some cigarettes.

When Roman finally spotted me, I was sure I looked like the world's biggest idiot. It dawned on me that I was staring at him, completely frozen at the sight of his beauty, and I cleared my throat when I finally managed to look away. With shaky steps, I began to make my way up the stairs, hoping he'd let me walk by without making any jokes or mocking comments. Ideally, we wouldn't talk at all. But as I tried to pass him, Roman's hand easily reached out for my wrist, his fingers wrapping around my skin with the gentlest touch.

My breath hitched-- I turned to meet his green, green eyes, noticing that the dealer was gone. The only thing left was him, me, and the pack of cigarettes he had just bought. My eyes darted down to my arm, observing how big his hands were against my skin.

"Did I say something wrong?" Roman eventually asked, an unintelligible emotion swimming in his eyes.

I shrugged, stunned that he was asking that question in the first place. "Why does it matter to you?"

"It doesn't," he said, not missing a beat. Despite his refusal to admit anything, Roman drew his other hand forth to trace circles in the palm of my hand, retracting back into his shell.

My eyes followed his movement, inhaling a shaky breath. What was he doing? Was I really putting my friendship on the line for this? "Roman, I can't be seen with you here--"

"There's no one here," Roman rolled his eyes, clearly not here to fight with me. His grip around my wrist tightened, almost as though he was afraid I'd leave again. "I'm not a fucking idiot, I wouldn't be doing this if I knew someone was watching. What's made you so paranoid?--" His trail of words stopped, eyes rounding out with some sort of realization. " You know what? I have an idea." Roman reached into his pocket, fishing out something silver, something sharp that practically shone beneath the bright lights of the school--

I let out a high-pitched scream, jumping away from him in all-taking panic. "No, no!--"

"Calm down!" Roman barked, holding out the needle over the hollow of the stairwell before dropping it down to the first floor. There wasn't much noise as it hit the ground, other than a high-pitched ringing that lasted for a few seconds.

I realized that I was practically hugging my body, ready to shield myself from any incoming needle attacks, and slowly unwinded my arms from around myself. Letting out the breath I had been holding, I watched Roman's hardening gaze meet mine. "Told you," he said, voice low. "Never wanted to, never planned to."

My eyes dropped to the floor, unable to meet his anymore. "Okay," By instinct, I reached for the sleeve of my sweater, ripping at it with my nails to keep my nerves in check. I hadn't expected to see him today, especially not here and now-- had he noticed my puffy eyes?

Roman sighed, reaching forward to guide me back towards him. "Stop that," he mumbled, grabbing my hands, keeping them separate. "You do that all the time, do you know that?" He nodded towards my sweater, squeezing my hands.

I wondered if it had dawned on him that we were practically holding hands now. If he realized that he was being sweet with me, that he was acting as though he cared. Would it scare him if he knew? I couldn't be sure. All I could be sure of was that this was hurting me either way. With a sigh, I spoke up; "What are you doing?"

Roman's green eyes darted down to our hands, unable to meet my gaze. "I... don't know,"

"Of course you don't," Slowly, I pried my hands away from his, feeling my heart sink into my shoes.

Watching me retreat, Roman opened his mouth to protest; he was ready to speak, but nothing came out. He stared at me with blank eyes for a few seconds, almost as though he had short-circuited.

The air around us started to feel thicker, the tension growing without its needed release-- all until he finally said something; "Look, I don't know why, but you being mad at me is just really inconvenient right now, so... How do I make it up to you?"

It felt as if the air had gotten knocked out of me, and I stared at him in disbelief at his words; "... Inconvenient?"

"Yeah," Roman rolled his eyes, cursing under his breath. It was clear that he didn't know how to properly articulate what he was feeling, and that made everything furthermore frustrating. "I know that you said I have to figure out my feelings for you or whatnot, but I don't think I have any. So, for Letha's sake, I think we should make a truce or something."

"For... Letha's sake?" I had to suppress a laugh-- this was insane. "Since when have you cared about Letha's feelings? Was that before or after you blackmailed me into meeting you everywhere, and then kissed me?"

Not a beat passed before Roman raised his voice in protest; "You said I could! You said 'you can kiss me now if you want to', so I did!"

How was it possible for someone to be so confusing? I balled my fists in an attempt to control my exasperation; "Well, why the fuck did you then?! You say you have no feelings for me, and then you kiss me?--"

"Because I wanted to!" Roman yelled back, gripping the banister with a force that turned his knuckles white. "I've wanted to kiss you again ever since that time we played seven minutes in heaven, so excuse me for taking the opportunity!"

It was immediately clear that he regretted saying that out loud-- his green eyes widened, his plush, pink lips parting in mortification.

However, Roman wasn't the only one that was caught off guard. I was quite sure that my heart had stopped, the ringing in my ears mixing in with the echo of his voice lingering in the empty stairwell. Realizing I had been holding my breath, the rest of it came out in a shaky exhale, my body stiffening with complete and utter shock. "Roman, I--"

"Please don't," His words came out barely more audible than a whisper as he hurried to get off the banister. "Forget I said that. I haven't had my nicotine this morning--"

"Roman!--"

"I don't usually deal with virgins, anyways," Roman mumbled, throwing his bag over his shoulder as he refused to meet my gaze. "Too much work. And you're kind of hard-maintenance."

I couldn't even hold back my reaction to the further blow, letting my jaw fall. "Sorry, what? What is happening right now?"

He shrugged, a forced nonchalance about him as he dragged his fingers through his gelled hair. "Again, I'm not into you like that. And if I wanted a therapist, I would've hired one, right?" That seemed quite funny to him-- Roman's mouth curved up as he let out a nervous laugh, now watching my eyes hollow.

This was probably the biggest whiplash of events I had ever experienced. Completely spellbound by his idiocy, I couldn't do anything other than stare at him. Was he really this clueless, and did he really think these things about me?

I was very abruptly reminded of why I hated him in the first place. I was about to spew verbal acid at him but was interrupted by the door to the second floor swinging open. With quick steps, I moved away from Roman, glaring at him from afar as I hoped to spot a flash of regret.

But hence; nothing.

I realized that the group of boys at the door were Roman's friends, and they quickly spotted him as well. It didn't take long for him to wordlessly join them, bumping fists as they walked past me. Everything about it made me feel like a ghost-- what had just happened?

And why was I so heartbroken over this jerk?

I felt my heart drop, hiding my face in my hands the second I knew they couldn't see me. Everything about this situation was mortifying; Roman didn't have any feelings for me. I hadn't meant anything to him at all, and all of this back-and-forth had been for nothing.

I was ready to run to the bathroom and burst into tears, completely spent and exhausted, until I suddenly heard a conversation coming from beneath;

"Who was that?"

"Who?" This was definitely Roman.

"That chick you were with?"

Intrigued, I pulled myself together before carefully leaning over the banister, trying to get a good look at the gang of boys who were yet to make it all the way to the exit.

"None of your concern," Roman said, giving in to a chuckle.

That wasn't satisfactory enough for the other guy, who proceeded to shrug; "She was cute, though. Do you have her number?"

Roman's eye twitched, his smirk faltering. Without even saying a word, he shoved the other guy rather harshly; "Drop it,"

I immediately stepped away, clasping a hand over my mouth as the rest of the guys laughed, finally leaving the stairwell. Letting out the breath I had been holding, I clutched my heart as my mind raced-- was I imagining things, or were Roman's words betraying his actions?

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

"It is the same rain that you loved that drowned you,"

It was haunting me, at this point. Genuinely.

All the feelings I had for Roman had nowhere to go anymore. For a week now, I had been like a ghost to him. The one thing I had learned about Roman, at the end of the day, was that he was very, very true to his word-- he definitely didn't like me. I could be very sure about this, now that he suddenly had a new cheerleader on his arm again, making it his twelfth. Everything about that made me want to puke; how could I have been so stupid as to believe Roman would feel differently about me? Was he actually the asshole he made himself out to be? Maybe it wasn't a coping mechanism-- maybe it really was just him?

So, so many questions.

I could only watch him from afar on the bleachers, with Letha sitting next to me and revising her notes for an upcoming test. With a heavy heart, I watched as Roman leaned over to kiss the cheerleader's cheek, and I suddenly recognized the girl from my literature classes; Jessica. Fucking Jessica? Come on!

The sight was enough for me to crumble up my notes, not realizing what I was doing until Letha nudged me; "Uh... What are you doing?" she asked, her green eyes giving me a weird look.

In an instant, I let go of the paper, accidentally letting it fall to the floor. "Sorry," I mumbled, bending down to pick it up. "I just didn't get much sleep. I'm spasming up." It was hard not to shudder-- lying to my best friend had become a habit, and there was nothing I hated more.

Letha didn't seem to buy it, but she also didn't comment. Instead, she wrapped an arm around me, soothingly rubbing my back. "What's up with you these days?" she asked, concern coated in her soft voice. "What's bothering you? You can tell me anything, you know that?"

The soft cotton of her sweater, the kindness of her being-- my heart was actively breaking. I didn't deserve any of it.

Everything felt so worthless at this point; especially while watching Roman's public display of affection to this girl that he barely even knew. Had he actually taken my romance tips and applied them to someone else? Asshole move number one. Eventually, I turned to Letha, a sense of anxiety washing over me as I realized what I was about to do; "Anything?"

My angel of a best friend only held me tighter, shooting me a kind, warm smile as she nodded. "Anything,"

"Okay..." It was getting hard to breathe-- was I really going through with this? My pulse quickened, my words coming out with a sliver of panic; "Please don't kill me, okay?"

Letha tucked a strand of her long, blonde hair behind her ear, worry filling her eyes. "Seriously, you're torturing me at this point, just say it," She squeezed my shoulders as she attempted a smile. Even in the most tense moments, she still tried to put me at ease.

There was no way I could back down now, and I wanted so badly to be done with it. To be done with the guilt, the shame, and the heartbreak. Just as I was about to speak up, it felt as though my mouth had dried up, and I was beyond breathless when I finally blurted it out; "Roman and I kissed at that party where we played seven minutes in heaven. And... another time after that."

Letha might as well have frozen over. There was no single movement whatsoever. Her arm remained wrapped around me as she stared at me with an empty look, eyes wider than I had ever seen them before.

I caught a glimpse of Roman kissing his new girl of the week in my peripheral view, and along with my confession, that was enough for my tears to press their way up in my eyes with a burn unlike anything I had ever felt in my life.

I could swear that Letha was furious. That she wanted to throw me down the bleachers and stomp my face in. But instead, she slowly retreated her arm around me, holding her breath. Letha's green eyes glossed over, unable to meet my gaze anymore. "You... What?"

With swift movements, I pressed the sleeve of my sweater up against my eyes, not wanting to cry in public. "Could I please explain?" I tried, holding back a sob-- why on earth had I decided to do this now?

"What is there to explain?" Letha wrapped her jacket tightly around her body, almost as though to hug herself, her words coming out in a breathy mumble. "You kissed. Twice. Had it been once, I might've gotten it because it was a party game, but... you went back for more?" The hurt in her voice was thick, and I couldn't help but notice how small she sounded; I had never seen Letha so upset.

Her question haunted me, and I buried my face in my hands. "I'm so sorry, Letha, I never meant to hurt you or go behind your back--"

"Is it at least something serious between you two?" Something about Letha hardened, and her words were starting to choke me. "Please tell me you pulled this crap for a good reason?"

I sniffled, wiping away any impending tears with my sleeve. The truth made my confession even more mortifying-- saying it out loud only made me feel worse; "He says he has no feelings for me..."

Letha nodded, crossing her arms over her chest as she slowly started rocking herself. "And you have feelings for him?" When she didn't get an answer, she finally looked at me, meeting my glossy eyes with a glare so harsh that I nearly shuddered. I would've never thought Letha would be capable of pulling such an expression. Enraged, she raised her voice; "You have feelings for him?!"

Panicked, I put my hands over my head, almost as though I was scared she'd hit me. "I'm sorry! I'm so, so sorry, Letha, you have no idea!--" As I heard her shuffle about, I raised my eyes to see her gather her stuff, ready to leave. My tears were burning in my eyes, obscuring my vision as I desperately grabbed her hand. "Letha, please! I made a mistake, I never wanted to do this to you!--"

"But you did!" Letha sneered, throwing her backpack over her shoulder. She turned to me with a look that would etch itself into my mind for days to come, a look so furious that it gave me goosebumps. "You're no different than the rest. Go be one of his whores, for all I care!"

Stunned, I watched as she made her way off the bleachers, not looking back. I didn't know Letha had it in her to call me slurs, but at the same time... I knew I deserved it. However, nothing could prepare me for the avalanche of sadness that would ensue my confession; I was dead sure that I had lost my best friend, and what had I gained in the process? I buried my face in my hands, allowing tears to run down my cheeks, trying to make myself as small as possible. My shoulders slumped, wanting to ball myself up into nothing and disappear.

I did my best to get myself together, sniffling as I wiped away my tears. Reminding myself that I was in public, and that I definitely didn't want to make a scene, I let out a shaky breath as I gathered my stuff and got ready to leave. But just as I stood up, I couldn't help but look in Roman's direction, wanting to get a quick glance at the root cause of my misery.

However, I hadn't thought that he would be looking back at me as well.

There he was, his arm wrapped around another girl, but he couldn't take his eyes off me. He wouldn't-- Roman's gaze didn't shy away as our eyes met. Instead, they rounded out with the realization that I had been crying.

Seeing him again, being acknowledged, was enough to drive me over the edge once more. Letting out a quiet sob, I stormed off the bleachers, clasping a hand over my mouth. Who would've thought my ridiculous crush would lead to these gut-wrenching feelings? It felt as though I couldn't breathe, heaving for air as I rushed to get away from everything and everyone.

"It is the same rain that you loved that drowned you,"

To my surprise, it didn't take long before I heard the familiar sound of long steps following me. My heart beat so hard, I thought it might explode and cover the school grounds in my flesh and blood. The way my pulse quickened made me nauseous-- I needed to get away. "Go away, Roman!" I clutched my heart as I sped up; I didn't need to turn around to know it was him.

His next question could've easily been answered if he'd listened closely to the sob I was suppressing; "Are you crying?" Roman didn't have to do much to catch up to me, but he wasn't lunging at me just yet. "Why are you crying?"

I couldn't believe I had to deal with him on top of everything-- I groaned, turning around to face him despite how bloodshot my eyes looked. "Could you back off? Go back to your braindead cheerleader!"

It was clear that Roman hadn't expected to be confronted head-on like this. His green eyes widened before they hardened, balling his fists as he spoke; "Why are you so fucking mad? What did I do this time?"

"Everything!" I inhaled a shaky breath, burying my face in the crook of my arm to hide my tears. There was no way in hell I was about to cry openly in front of this douchebag. "I just-- I just lost Letha because of you! I got so swept up in you, I caused a fucking avalanche!" My lower lip gave in to a quiver, and multiple tears escaped the crease of my arm, now rolling down my chin and landing on the grass beneath us. "And you obviously don't give a damn about me, and I've been throwing my feelings at you like an idiot, and I just... How could I have been so stupid?"

I swallowed another sob, making an unsuccessful attempt at wiping away my tears. Refusing to meet his eyes, I sniffled as my gaze fell to the ground, shaking my head in denial as Roman stayed silent. "Please, I... need to be alone. I don't want to make myself look even worse in front of you than I already do--"

My ramble escaped me with my next breath; it got caught in my throat as I felt the soft fabric of Roman's sweater against my chin, silently wiping away my tears. It was clear that he figured out I had told Letha. I dared to look up at him, finding an unusually forgiving tenderness about him.

Speechless, I could only stare right back. Roman was focused on wiping away every hint of a tear, his brows drawing together as he carefully traced the bags under my eyes. The kindness of his gesture, the softness in which he was tending to my sadness, made a familiar warmth spread through my chest all up into the tips of my fingers. It became too much-- I reached for his hand, prying it away from my face. "Why are you doing this?"

Roman shrugged, debating whether to say what was on his mind. It was clear that he was conflicted, and I could see it in the way his shoulders tensed up and the way his jaw clenched. "Doing you a favour. Your mascara is everywhere," Roman grew more and more uncomfortable with my silence. "Just stop crying, okay? Do you want me to talk to Letha?"

"I doubt that will help," I mumbled, sniffling. "Look, Roman, I really can't do this right now... You and your bullshit just lost me my best friend, do you realize that?"

He shrugged; "Letha will come around... I guess we'll have to wait it out,"

"We?" I huffed, wiping away the tears that were threatening to spill once more. "There is no we. Letha is family to you, so of course she'll forgive you! Me, on the other hand!--"

"There could be," Roman mumbled, interrupting me. His gaze darted down to his shoes, now chewing on his lower lip as his next words came out with a low whisper; "A we, I mean."

What? I shook my head, immediately going into denial. "... What are you even saying?" Something about his words sent me over the edge again-- I was so tired of the illusion of everything turning out alright between us. The exhaustion brought more tears to my eyes, and I brought my hands up to my face, hiding from him in plain sight. "Go away," I said, my voice shaky from the sadness consuming me. "Go away, please just go away! I don't need you to change your mind every week whether you have feelings for me or not, just-- Go!"

Roman sighed before stepping forward, completely taking my breath away as he wrapped his arms around me. It felt as though he understood that I wasn't pushing him away with malice, but more so to protect myself-- and right now, he was wrapped around me like a shield. I didn't have any fight left in me to push him away, so I buried my face against his chest, inhaling the smell of cinnamon cigarettes that I had weirdly missed.

"Let's go somewhere else, okay?" Roman said, sizing up the people passing us by with a scowl. "I have a feeling you don't want everyone to see this. Just follow me."

It didn't shock me that Roman's first thought was his car-- but I still ended up right there. In the dreaded backseat. Hadn't I promised myself I'd never set foot there? It seemed all my thoughts of reason flew out the window when I was in this state. He was currently tending to my new tears, wiping them away with the pads of his fingers. "Letha will forgive you," he murmured, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. "Do you maybe want a cigarette? They usually help me take the edge off... I have different flavours, if you want?"

I shook my head, feeling my headache swell from all the crying. "No thanks," I said. "And I think Letha would rather cut her head off than forgive me right now. She even called me a whore."

"... You?" was the first thing that came out of Roman's mouth. "The only virgin left at this school?"

Despite how sad I was, it didn't hold me back from hitting his arm. Roman let out a warm chuckle, grabbing my hands, forcing them away from him. "Just stop crying, alright? Pretty girls aren't allowed to cry in the back of my car,"

"... What?" I turned to him, brows drawing together in confusion. Did he just...?

Roman broke into a smile, nodding to my cheeks; "See? Not crying anymore. Flattery works every time,"

I held back a rather large groan-- I wasn't up for Roman's party tricks, especially not in this state. Knowing that he knew what I felt for him, knowing he used it to toy with me just for the fucks, made me even more angry. "I think I'm good now," I mumbled, turning away from him. "I don't think I should be seen here with you... Letha might actually think I have no heart."

There was a thick silence that fell over us like fog-- it made me face Roman again just to check what the hold-up was. And there he sat, his face suddenly completely serious, his brows drawing together in... anger? "Well, you chose this for yourself," he said, clenching his jaw as his black pupils shrunk.

Everything about him right now scared me. Why was he staring at me like that? It was as though he was about to pounce and rip me to shreds. "Roman, what's up with you?--"

"You're not the fucking victim here," Roman's words came out with a sneer, sharp enough to cut through wood. "You asked me to kiss you. You started this. Being seen with me is not what's going to make Letha think you're heartless, so either you own up to your crap or leave me the fuck out of it!"

My lips parted in complete and utter shock. I blinked repeatedly, hoping to blink away the angry expression on his face. "What the fuck?" I sat up, tucking my hair behind my ears as I attempted to size him up. "You're the one who dragged this shit out! You threatened to tell Letha we kissed if I didn't comply to your wishes, and then you damn near dry-humped me in that fucking alleyway!"

"Hey!"

I could barely believe it; in the middle of his outburst, I could see hints of a blush creeping up his cheeks. "You know I'm right!" I barked back, balling my fists. I couldn't believe we were having the same argument over and over. "I wouldn't have been in this mess if you hadn't stirred the fucking pot! You could've said no in that fucking closet!"

Roman quickly got enough of my retaliation; "You know why I didn't!"

"Yeah, and fuck you for that!" The volume of our altercation was rising-- I hoped people passing by the car couldn't hear this. "You shouldn't have kissed me! You should've just told me no, you owed me that kindness!"

Roman's eye twitched, and I was sure he hadn't blinked in about a minute. "I didn't owe you any kindness! You've always been horrible to me!--"

"Because you've been horrible back!"

"And why do you think that is? You think it's easy to be treated like shit by the one person you?!--" Roman inhaled sharply, eyes widening as yet another confession slipped past his lips. It was clear that he was mortified, that he had definitely not wanted to let that slip, but his eyes never left mine in shock and horror.

It felt as though I had been electrocuted, completely frozen in my seat. Uttering my next words felt as though I was walking through a minefield; "Person you... What?"

It didn't take long before Roman started squirming, eyes now frantically doing everything not to meet mine. "Shut up," he breathed, reaching over to open the car door on my side. Now that he was leaning across me like this, it was obvious that he was trying to get me to exit the vehicle. However, his face betrayed him-- Roman's hand gripped the door handle, slowly turning his head towards me. Like this, I could feel his breath hot and heavy against my lips, inches away from me.

I wasn't sure why I was digging my nails into my seat as though I was about to be mauled by a wildcat. The intensity oozing from Roman along with the realization that I had nowhere to run completely engulfed me, and my instincts suddenly pushed all thoughts of reason out of my brain. I had no idea what came over me as I put my hand over his, closing the door to the car before doing what I never thought I would do in this situation; our lips came together in a hot, fiery kiss as Roman leaned forward, laying me flat against the backseat.

I told myself I would never end up in this situation-- in the back of Roman's car. But here I was, splayed out beneath him like all his cheerleader whores, completely out of breath as I gave in to my deepest, darkest desires. The taste of cinnamon tobacco entered my system, and I couldn't help but moan out against him; I had been dreaming of being reunited with him like this for longer than I could remember. So as Roman's weight on top of me gave me a sense of security, the need for his kisses dulled down all my logical thinking.

There was nothing more important than this. There never had been.

The next thing that happened snapped me out of the constant static noise buzzing in my brain; "I want you so bad," Roman breathed against me, the whiny tone in his voice making my stomach flutter and flip-- was I maybe dreaming?

"Fuck Letha," he continued, his kisses now trailing down my jaw and neck, grabbing at me as though he was afraid I'd disappear. "Fuck all of that."

No, no, no. I couldn't. "Don't-- Don't say that," It had never been harder to inhale a simple breath before, and I let my lips part in pleasure as I realized Roman was leaving hickeys in the crook of my neck. Why was he doing that? Did he not know everyone would see them and make conclusions?--

Oh.

Before I could protest, Roman's plush lips were back on mine, melting me against him with the softest kisses known to man. In a flash of passion, my hands went up into his hair in an attempt to bring him closer. I could feel the thud of his heart against mine, realizing his was racing as well-- I wondered whether he reacted like this to all his girls. Warmth blossomed in my chest, sparks igniting as Roman leaned in close, lips brushing together as we tried to catch our breaths. The smell of his cologne and the deep citrus scent of his conditioner made me dizzy to the point where it felt as though butterflies danced in my stomach. But the warmth consumed me, completely in awe of the fact that we were reunited again as I leaned into the next kiss, Roman's lips impossibly sweet against my own.

He didn't have to say anything for me to know he had missed me too. The unspoken words passed between us with each stroke of my fingers against his back, each kiss he placed against the corners of my mouth, and the softness of his thumb caressing my cheek.

Roman pulled away as his long, slender fingers dug themselves into my waist. "Can I try something?"

What? I was too dazed, too content to immediately deny him. But had I known what he would do next, I probably wouldn't have agreed so fast. Roman leaned forward to unite our lips in another passionate kiss, but I couldn't feel his hands on me anymore. It took me a few seconds to realize he was unbuttoning my jeans and reaching my zipper.

My eyes widened against the kiss, and the squeak I let out got muffled against his lips. In a flash of panic, my hand reached down to grab his arm with speed I didn't know I had. Roman hummed, detaching our fiery union as his green eyes met mine, trying to find the reason for my panic. "Come on," he purred, the look of mischief spreading across his lips.

"I'm not doing it in the back of your car!" My fingers were still digging into the skin of his arm, making sure he wouldn't move.

Roman rolled his eyes; "Not what I was getting at, but whatever," A laugh escaped him, tilting his head to the side as he looked down at me splayed out across the backseat. "I'm not that evil. I wouldn't let you have your first time here."

A sense of comfort washed over me-- since when did he take pity on me? "Then what... What are you doing?"

He shrugged, holding back another laugh; "Giving you a sneak peek,"

I wasn't sure what that entailed, but my grip around his arm loosened.

Something about me changed whenever Roman was around. A part of me wanted to please him, appease him, and entice him into staying with me like this forever, no matter what. I wanted nothing more than for us to be together, no matter how hard my conscience was gnawing at me regarding the Letha situation. But thoughts of my best friend quickly evaporated as Roman's finger was suddenly deep in my cunt-- I wasn't quite sure when I had managed to get wet, but here I was. It must've been somewhere in between the fighting and the kissing.

I could only whimper against his kisses, not used to having anything in me at all. There was a certain sting, but it dulled down when Roman was at the hilt of his knuckle. It quickly turned into something I had never felt before-- I couldn't put my finger on exactly what it was, but it felt as though all the butterflies in my stomach melted into one, a weirdly pleasurable ache building in my lower abdomen.

As Roman added a second finger into me, careful to go in with slow strokes, my back arched slightly off the backseat of the car. Suppressing a moan, the hand I had in his hair tightened as a certain desperation ran through my veins. I watched as Roman smirked down at me, a knowing look in his eyes as he spoke; "If this feels good, imagine how it will feel when you get the real deal,"

I nearly shuddered-- that thought alone almost sent me over the edge. I could only writhe, my hips meeting the thrusts of his fingers as Roman ran his tongue along my bottom lip.

I was aware that all of this was a bad idea. To get more involved with Roman, to let him unravel me further; it was plain stupid. And horrible to Letha. I knew it was awful, that Roman and I shouldn't be together, and that I should be running after my best friend to keep begging for forgiveness.

Everything was starting to make my head spin.

As I came hard around Roman's digits, letting out a moan against his lips which would later make me blush, I couldn't help but wonder what on earth to do next. Should I let it all spiral? Should I get myself together and fix my friendship?

My thoughts completely shut down as Roman's wet fingers made their way past my lips, making me lap up my own slick.

Filthy. We were filthy, we were fucking horrible, and his following words didn't make me feel any better.

"Let's give it a try," Roman whispered against my lips, sincerity swimming in his green eyes. "You and I... It just has to happen. This feels too good to be wrong, fuck what Letha says."

There they were, the words I had wanted to hear from him all along. But now that he was right here, telling me he wanted us to be together, I found myself unsure what to say. When Roman leaned forward to sneak in a soft kiss, muffling the warmth of his chuckle, I realized I had a decision to make-- I knew it would end up being one of the hardest decisions of my life so far.

I held my breath, realizing the quote that had haunted me was correct after all; "It is the same rain that you loved that drowned you,"

Chapter 4: hickeys

Summary:

After having sacrificed your friendship with Letha for Roman's limited understanding of love and affection, you suddenly learn the consequences of your actions...

Chapter Text

Roman had a hickey right on the side of his throat. Thankfully, I knew who gave him that one-- me.

It dawned on me that I had never seen him with one before. Despite how easy it was for me to get lost in the feelings of joy, finding a sense of pride at being the only one allowed to do that to him, I remembered Roman hadn't always been open to these sorts of things. He had warmed up to it gradually, with everything starting as a small incident at my place a week ago.

We had been splayed out on my bed, my face buried in his chest as I took a casual mid-day nap on top of him. It had become a habit-- Roman would come over, we'd bicker about something, then make out for about an hour until he decided to take his smoke break on my balcony. But today was different; the both of us had just finished a rather hard math test, so we were absolutely spent by the time we hit my bed. Roman didn't even have the energy to smoke, and seeing how tired he was, I decided to be bold and cuddle up to him; however, I hadn't expected us to fall asleep like this.

Weirdly enough, he didn't resist my advances. He'd usually start feeling uncomfortable as he wasn't used to affection like this, but today, Roman had his arms around me as I laid with my head on top of his chest. I had been a little embarrassed to wake up to the sight of a tiny puddle of my drool on his sweater, and I tapped the spot with my fingers as though that would make it go away.

Roman awoke, groggy. He let out a low grunt as he raised his head, trying to get a look at what I was doing. "Is that what I think it is?--"

"No," My words barely came out louder than a whisper, now covering the spot with my palm as I looked up at him with a soft smile. "Did you sleep well?"

Roman, being the stubborn asshole he was, didn't even register my question. "Did you drool on me?"

Oh God, this was mortifying. I figured he'd find out anyway; I slowly removed my hand from the spot, sliding off him. "Sorry..." As I rolled over, my back against the bed, I could only sigh. Being Roman's unofficial official girlfriend was hard, especially now that I didn't have any friends to discuss it with.

However, there were moments where the hardships were worth it. Moments like these ones, where Roman now flipped over and unexpectedly snuggled up to me, his face hiding in the crook of my neck. "I've never been drooled on like that before," he said, his words muffled in my hair. "This is my favourite sweater."

With wary movements, I brought one hand up to his brown locks, gently stroking through them. I wasn't sure what the next sound from Roman was, but the closest thing would be a purr. "I'm sorry," I mumbled, my other hand running up and down his broad back. "Want me to buy you a new one?"

Roman huffed; "Don't be stupid. I'll just leave it in the washer here if you don't mind,"

"The washer?" My hands froze, no longer ghosting over his skin with gentle touches. "It will dry up in a second, Roman, get yourself together. And even worse, I might get the urge to wear it if you leave it here." I immediately regretted that joke the second it slipped past my lips-- in hopes of brushing over it, scared he'd climb off me and go back to being his usual self, I resumed running my fingers through his hair and up his back.

To my surprise, Roman didn't react much. The only thing I could notice was a rather shaky breath against my neck, almost as though he had just had a really tempting thought. Eventually, he spoke; "It wouldn't fit you very well,"

I did my best to shrug, although that was hard to do with someone on top of me. "That's not the premise," I huffed. "People usually wear each others' stuff when they're into one another. It's a cute thing."

"... So you'd want me to leave my sweater here?" Roman eventually propped himself up on his elbows, meeting my gaze. "Why? It's not like you'd be able to wear it anywhere."

It was in moments like these that I realized how little Roman actually knew about girls. He was supposedly very good in bed, but with feelings and affection? He was like a very aggressive puppy with gorgeous fur-- some men you simply have to train to be soft. "I'd wear it at home," I said, reaching out to brush his messed up hair away from his green eyes. "Especially when it's stormy outside and I'm doing my homework."

Something about my words seemed to be leaving small cracks in Roman's shell-- had I not been so observant, I wouldn't have noticed the way his pupils dilated or the way his features softened as he looked at me. "Would it be a one-way thing?" he asked; was I imagining things, or did he sound shy? "You get my sweater, and I get..." Roman propped himself up further, taking a quick glance around my room. It didn't take long before his eyes landed on the plain, black hair ties on my nightstand, and he wasted no time reaching for two in one go. "I get these."

Seeing him so serious about this exchange was too funny-- I couldn't help the giggle building in my chest, suppressing a rather obnoxious laugh. "Yeah, I think that's smart," I murmured, stroking my thumb over his cheek. "Your hair is getting a little long... Would probably make your life easier."

Roman rolled his eyes, huffing. "It's not exactly like you have anything else lying around here!"

There was no way in hell I was about to tell him that my room was this clean because I had predicted he'd come over. "Okay, but it still works," I reached for his hand, taking the ties into my palm before rolling them over his fingers, watching as the rubber bands now sat comfortably at his wrist. "There you go!" I exclaimed, beaming up at a rather perplexed Roman. "Sweater, please."

It took a few seconds for him to react-- his eyes fixated on the black rubber ties around his wrist, and before I knew it, I saw slivers of pink appearing on his cheeks. I had never seen him react to anything like this before, and I had no idea why Roman was suddenly unmistakably blushing. "Fuck," he breathed. "That's cute."

To hide his blush, he quickly wried his sweater off his body, throwing it away on a chair nearby before burying his face in the crook of my neck again, putting his whole weight back on me. "Promise to use it for dirty stuff too," he grumbled, probably to save face, before pressing a kiss to my neck.

I was happy Roman didn't see how brightly I was smiling-- I would've been told off immediately, and he'd most likely retract right back into his shell. It was unusual for him to accept any sort of affection, and I wondered whether he had let anyone this close before. The more I got to know Roman, the more he was sleepy and babbling around me, I realized that I had to gradually ease physical kindness into his life to make our weird whatever-ship work.

The whatever-ship I had sacrificed everything for.

And I would've spiraled deeper into thoughts about it, but the sudden pressure I felt against my neck made me snap out of it-- I realized he was giving me a rather hefty hickey, a familiar tingling sensation coursing its way through my body. I let out a satisfied sigh, my fingers burying themselves deeper into Roman's hair as he moved elsewhere on my neck to make a second one. "These will go well with the sweater," he purred against my skin.

I held back a shiver-- The hate I had once felt for him had quickly turned into whatever this was. All I knew, was that it felt good enough to distract me from the guilt that kept gnawing at me after betraying Letha the way I did.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

The next day at school actually marked a month since the last time Letha and I had spoken on the bleachers. A month of staring at her longingly from afar like a kicked puppy and asking our mutual friends how she was. It didn't take long before they all heard what had happened between Roman and I, and they suddenly became Letha's friends only.

I didn't know how lonely I would be after I chose Roman, and it was slowly breaking my heart. Being blacklisted by nearly all the girls at school was tough, to say the least.

So as I rummaged around my locker, getting ready for my next class, I didn't expect Letha to approach. There was no way I could imagine she'd do that, especially after the way she had been denying all my attempts of reconciliation. But here she was, blonde hair styled to perfection, and her green, stern eyes meeting mine the second I closed my locker door.

I stared right back, at a loss for words despite opening my mouth to speak.

Letha cleared her throat, pressing her books tightly against her chest. "It's been a month," she tried, something about her softening with the weight of her words. "I think I might be ready to... talk."

My heart jumped up like never before, immediately thrown into a feeling of ecstatic victory. "What?" I squeaked, unable to stop my beaming look of joy. "Are you serious?"

Letha shrugged, biting the inside of her cheek to suppress her smile. "I think it's time to try, at least?--" Her words came to a halt the second I turned to face her fully, and her green eyes immediately found my neck.

My hair had moved to behind my shoulders as I turned around, revealing the hickeys I had tried my best to cover with setting powder and foundation. It didn't take long before Letha's softening look became one of horror as she took a step back, clearly repulsed.

I immediately went into panic, piecing it together. "No, Letha, wait!--"

There was no stopping Letha before she turned on her heel, bolting down the corridor with heavy steps.

I turned back towards my locker, pressing my forehead against it. There was no way in hell I'd let everyone see me cry in public again. It felt as though Letha had dug her hand into my chest and ripped out my heart, now squeezing it until it finally popped. My breath hitched as I stepped away from the locker, sniffling as I felt a sob build.

Just as I was about to leave and get to class somehow, the familiar scent of cinnamon entered my system. "What did Letha want?" Roman asked, his hands tucked into his pockets as he approached. His brows were drawn together in a disapproving look as he watched Letha disappear down the hallway in unmatched hurry, and I got a good glance at him when I finally turned around to face him. How long had he been watching me from afar?

Roman's glare quickly faded away when his attention shifted and he noticed the way my eyes had glossed over. His whole tough look disappeared within a sliver of a second, and I was unsure whether he noticed it himself. "... Nothing good, I see?"

I shied away from his gaze, my eyes darting down to my shoes. "She wanted to make up all until she saw... well," To demonstrate, I turned a little, showing Roman the once blank canvas which was now covered in about six hickeys that I counted last night. It was clear to me that my attempt at hiding them had failed.

Roman could only sigh, an infuriating grin now spreading across his face. "I'm going to say sorry now, but know that I don't fully mean it because... the sight of you like this is so damn hot," He leaned down, pressing his lips against my forehead as he took my face into his hands. I couldn't help but notice that he was still wearing my two black rubber bands just as my breath hitched at the loving gesture.

Something about the kiss made my heart skip, but another part was ripping at me; Roman clearly cared more about the fact that he had marked me than how upset I was. I hummed in response, not knowing what else to say before much later; "Don't do that,"

"Do what?"

"Don't kiss me like that," I mumbled, pressing my back against my locker to make as much space between us as possible. "Just... Don't."

Roman's first reaction was on display with a stunned expression, up until his brows drew together in what I could only read as annoyance. "Fine," he said, teeth gritted. His hands fell down at his sides, trying to save face as he took a step away from me; "I'm just trying to make you feel a little better, it's not that fucking deep." In true Godfrey fashion, he also proceeded to storm down the hallway, clearly flustered after being shut down.

I had to take a long breath-- this was a lot to take in for one day. Roman being in denial about his feelings also didn't help much. I wanted to run after him, grab his hand and tell him that he could do absolutely whatever he wanted with me, that I'd love for him to kiss me like that once more, but I knew I couldn't.

It was hard to believe how badly I had fallen for a guy who could barely regulate his own feelings. Someone who insisted on making it apparent to everyone that I was his without actually wanting to put a name to it. I let out a sigh, watching Roman get further and further away. Something told me I maybe should've followed him, at least asked him whether he wanted to come to my place later and sleep next to each other, but my plans quickly fell apart when I witnessed the one thing I hated seeing most in the world.

In the midst of his angry storm-off, Roman managed to turn his head to allow for his eyes to follow a girl with an exceptionally short skirt passing him by.

I wanted to throw up-- the hungry look in his eyes made me nauseous. Everything about Roman looking at someone in the way he usually looked at me made me want to burst into tears all over again.

No matter what I felt for him, one thing would never change; I hated Roman Godfrey. I hated him and the way he made me feel like a stomped bug. Hated the way he'd look at me after he'd make me cum around his fingers, the way he'd stroke my hair away from my forehead with the gentlest touch as I fell asleep, and the way he'd insist on driving me everywhere just to spend some extra time together.

I hated him. I hated this feeling, and especially what it had done to me, my friendships, and my reputation.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

... Thoughts of my reputation went out the window now that Roman was back in my bed. Nothing suggestive, of course-- he was currently half asleep next to me. Even more heartwarming, was the fact that he still wore my two hair ties around his wrist, and I could get a proper look at him now that he was resting. I loved this feeling; we were both wearing the items we had exchanged.

"It looks good on you," he mumbled, tugging me closer with the arm he had around me. "My sweater. I thought I would hate seeing you in it, but it's not so bad."

My body was halfway on top of his, and I couldn't help but giggle as he pressed me closer to his chest. "Why did you think you'd hate it?" I adored the feeling of being completely engulfed in Roman-- the lingering scent of his perfume stuck to the gigantic sweater I was in, and his big arms around me made all my pain feel worth it.

All up until Roman hummed, eyes still closed as his hands raked through my hair; "You wearing my stuff makes it real... Like you're mine. I don't know whether I want that responsibility,"

I could only sigh, unsure whether I should let my heart sink just yet. Sometimes, it was best to dig around in Roman's mud of a brain before settling for the version he wanted me to believe. "So you would be okay if I was with someone else?"

Roman opened one eye, glancing down at me as he raised a brow. "Are you with someone else?"

"... No,"

"Would you want to be?"

What an odd question; one he didn't need to know the truth of. "Would you care if I did?"

Roman opened his second eye, now scouring my face to check for cracks in my facade. Something told me he wasn't buying it, but that he wasn't about to take any chances. Eventually, he scoffed, rolling his eyes before closing them again; "Fuck off,"

"Fuck off yourself," I mumbled, burying my face in the crook of his neck. I tried to dull out the fact that his arm automatically wrapped itself tighter around me before I spoke once more; "Answer the question."

"Why?" Roman shifted, pulling my whole body on top of his, letting out a satisfied sigh now that all of my weight was laid on him. "It's a stupid question. Why can't we just enjoy this moment?"

He had a point, sure-- I just didn't deem it enough. "I hope you remember that I have a lot on the line here," I placed my hands next to his head, pushing myself up to get a proper look at him. Roman eventually opened his big, green eyes, and they quickly rounded out as they met mine. Everything about looking into his eyes made me want to squeal and pepper him with kisses; this was dangerous territory. I knew had to pull myself together; "I have, like... zero friends because of this. Because I chose you. And you not wanting to take on that responsibility or whatever it was that you called it, makes me feel like crap. You make me feel like crap."

It was clear that Roman was holding his breath without thinking about it. He stared up at me, unsure what to say; "... All the time?"

"What?"

"Do I make you feel like crap all the time?"

That was certainly a way to spin it-- taken aback, I furrowed my brows as I pondered the question. "Not... all the time, no,"

Roman hummed; he seemed content with that answer. "I know you're upset about the whole Letha thing," he said, his big hands traveling down to grab at my hips as he shifted me to sit in his lap. "I also see that I'm not exactly helping the situation, but... you can't keep blaming me for your decision."

"... Okay," His request was simple enough-- I was ready to adhere to his wishes. "But then you have to say it out loud."

"Say what?"

"That you like me,"

I watched as Roman's eyes widened, his grip on my hips tightening. His whole body tensed up, unsure whether to speak or not. It was clear that he was conflicted about how to tread forward, and I held my breath the second his plush lips parted. Roman sat up, his back now supported by my headboard. Like this, I was sat in his lap with my arms draped around his neck, and he connected our foreheads with a sigh. Roman's words eventually came out like a slow, warm whisper; "I don't know what I feel,"

It felt as though my heart had lodged itself into my throat-- what? I was about to start arguing with him, cursing him out for dragging me through the mud for nothing, all until Roman suddenly reached for my hand. He placed my palm over his heart, his eyes finding mine as he steadied his breathing. "I don't know what I feel," he echoed. "But I know that looking at you makes my heart beat faster. Feel how hard it's going?" He pressed my hand further up against his chest, something about his touch giving away the sincere nature of this gesture. I hadn't seen Roman doing anything this romantic before, and everything was practically perfect all up until he opened his dumb teenage mouth; "I'm serious. It usually only beats like this when I look at pictures of Sydney Sweeney in a swimsuit."

That's it-- I groaned and ripped my hand out of his grip. "Okay, that's enough. You need to leave, it's almost midnight," In an attempt to climb off him, I almost made it out of his lap before his hands grabbed my hips once more, forcing me back down as I yelped. My eyes widened as they met Roman's, watching his signature smirk spread across his lips.

"Where do you think you're going in my sweater?" he purred, suppressing a chuckle. "My sweater, my rules. Give me a kiss before I leave, at least."

I huffed as I snaked my arms around his neck, feeling his hot breath against my lips. "And why should I kiss you?"

"Because you want to?" Roman didn't care to try to suppress his grin, gently nudging my nose with his as his grip on my waist tightened. His voice dropped, getting airy as he whispered against my lips; "You want to so bad."

Everything about him made the butterflies in my stomach flutter-- it didn't help that his hair was tousled in a classic heartbreaker look, along with how ridiculously soft his lips suddenly looked.

Roman definitely noticed the reddening of my cheeks, concluding why I had gone mute. "Don't be like that," he teased, not doing a good job with hiding his amusement. "Just kiss me first, for once. Have you noticed that you never initiate anything?"

I held my breath-- "I just... don't know what I'm doing," My confession was unexpected, but it felt nice to get it off my chest. "I don't want you to think I'm clueless."

"But you are?" Roman's chuckle was one of mischief as his hands shamelessly trailed down my body, now grabbing my ass as he pushed me closer to him. "It's not a bad thing. Just means I can program you to my liking."

I didn't even act as though I wanted his hands off of me, giving in to his antics. Something about the way he was holding me made me feel awfully warm-- maybe it was time to take off the sweater? "Tell me what you like, then," I purred, putting my hands on his chest. I figured that if I had gone down this route, I'd continue my path with conviction.

Roman's smirk only grew, letting out a breathy laugh against my lips as he gave my ass a firm squeeze. "That's my girl," he cooed. "We'll start simple." He nudged his nose against mine once more, his lips parting before his words came out in a hot whisper against mine; "Kiss me."

His words were too alluring to deny-- I leaned forward, my hands carefully laying against his broad shoulder as I kissed him. A sigh of satisfaction escaped Roman, who immediately dug his hands into the flesh of my behind to tug me closer. Everything about the way he was reacting to me reminded me of our first date, and the way he had held and kissed me in the alley when we were hiding from Letha.

The kiss was slow, almost lazy; something about the moonlight hitting us was making it more intense. It mostly consisted of small, loving pecks, and many pauses to simply smile against one another. I wondered whether he had ever kissed anyone like this before, with a softness I didn't see in him very often.

It was hard to believe that this was the same guy that had me running around scared for him to prick me with needles. The only thing pricking me right now was the hardening of Roman's cock beneath me. With every twitch, every time his hands dug into my hips in an attempt to grind me against him, I could only grin into the kiss. There wasn't exactly anything sexual about this kiss, but he would always get hard from the smallest little things-- I couldn't help but find pride in it. At least this was another confirmation that he wanted me.

Roman eventually grew frustrated, now trying to rut up against me just for any sort of friction. With that, I grabbed the headboard, raising myself with my knees so that he wouldn't succeed. As he groaned, I had to bite down on my growing smile; the look on his gorgeous face was too damn thrilling.

Roman's eyes were round, his chest sinking with a shaky exhale as a rosy flush lingered in his cheeks. "Anything," he breathed. "Just give me anything. I'll take it."

"Anything?" I wasn't quite sure what he was getting at; "What do you mean?"

His hands grabbed at my waist, signalizing that he wanted me to sit down on his arousal once more-- perhaps that felt like a relief in itself? Roman stared up at me through his brows, his fingers digging into my flesh. "I'm not asking you for sex. I'm being nice. So I'm saying I'll take anything you'll give me... Even the smallest thing," He leaned forward, pressing a wet kiss against my neck which had me losing my breath within seconds, now whispering against my skin; "Just touch me." Roman's needy kisses trailed up my neck, jaw, and cheeks until his breath was hot against my ear. "However you want. Don't be shy, try it out."

Something told me that Roman was secretly into me being a virgin, after all this time of making fun of me for it. However, I wasn't about to say no to the opportunity to explore with the Roman Godfrey, and I eventually sat back down on his arousal, my cheeks flushing a deeper shade of red at the sound of his muffled grunt.

My hands went up into his soft hair, pressing a kiss against his temple as my fingers stroked through his locks. "There's one thing I might want to try..."

Roman turned to nip at my jaw, his hands traveling back down to my ass. "Go for it,"

I didn't want to give him time to change his mind; my hand in his hair tightened, pulling him away from me with an unexpected roughness. I was about to apologize until I noticed the way Roman closed his eyes, and the way his lips parted in what looked like pleasure. It suddenly dawned on me that he might be the type to like a little pain, not only cause it. However, I wasn't ready to explore that at the moment-- I had another thought to attend to.

Roman's head lolled back against the headboard as I leaned down to kiss his neck, and it was clear to me that he was enjoying himself. It was only when his fingers dug themselves back into the flesh of my behind that I got the confidence to pull through with my original plan; I sucked down on a particular spot, hard enough to leave a mark.

I didn't need to see his face to know that Roman's eyes were wide open with the realization of what was happening. I was ready for him to push me away, tell me off, tell me to stop-- but his arms only wrapped around me, pulling me closer in a swift motion that had me grinding up against his hard cock, and Roman let out a sigh of pleasure as he let himself be marked with a blooming hickey.

Something told me I had to be somewhat special for him to allow me to do such a thing, and it quickly dawned on me that I had never felt this happy with anyone before, despite his shortcomings.

I liked Roman more than I had ever liked anyone before, and I had an inkling that he felt the same. Who knew something so simple could feel so incredibly good?

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

Knowing I had Roman wrapped around my finger, despite him not being able to properly say it out loud, had me floating around in my own little bubble. Everything concerning Letha suddenly felt irrelevant, and it wasn't taking up as much space in my mind as before. All I could think about was the way Roman had smiled at me as he passed me in the hall, the red hickey on the side of his neck peeking out past his shirt. The cherry on top of it were the two hair ties he still wore around his wrist-- he was enjoying this, wasn't he?

However, I was yanked back into the absolute shitshow I had caused for myself concerning my girlfriends later that same day.

My previous friends had never done anything more than glare at me from across the hall. Maybe the occasional overdramatic huff when they passed me, an extra eye-roll my way, and so I did my best to not pay it any mind.

Which is why I was so shocked when the proceeding followed.

It didn't bother me to sit alone at lunch-- not anymore, at least. I wasn't about to reach out to Roman to ask where he was and whether I could join him either; but just as I picked up my phone, ready put away my nerves and text him, my gaze was diverted from the screen and to the three girls that sat down in front of me.

I held my breath, my eyes widening with the realization that my previous best friends were staring at me with the nastiest looks I had probably ever seen.

Oh no.

Breathing deeply, I did my best to harden my gaze and keep my guard up. "What do you want, Jasmine?" I asked, putting my phone down on the table as I stared down the girl in the middle. Jasmine was the one I had liked the least in our friend group, and I wasn't surprised that she was the one to take action-- the rest of the girls always followed her like dogs, and it had always made me sick; especially now that they were sitting by her like docile animals.

Jasmine cleared her throat, leaning further over the table in an attempt to intimidate me; "We're just here to make you aware of something,"

"Which is...?"

Taken aback by my lack of reaction, Jasmine's eye twitched just slightly as the girls next to her grew more and more uncomfortable. "Letha told me what she saw on your neck. And sitting this close to you, I see it too... Do you not understand how it makes you look?"

There was no way for me to hold back my sarcasm; "How does it make me look? Do indulge, Jas," I couldn't even hold back my grimace at this point. "Why does it even matter to you?"

Jasmine's eye twitched once more, and she slammed her hands against the table with a loud thud. "What upsets Letha, upsets me! I'm just glad I found out what kind of person you truly are, and it brings me immense joy to realize everyone is starting to catch on to the truth as well!"

Despite how hard I attempted to stay neutral, unaffected, and unfazed, I couldn't do anything about the way my heart sunk. I couldn't even muster up anything to counter Jasmine's words, taken aback by the bluntness of my previous friend.

"Letha really wanted to reconcile, do you know that?" Jasmine continued, an evil snicker building in her throat. "But it's fucking disgusting that you walk around like you're proud to be fucking Roman Godfrey, especially when you know how much you've hurt her. Fucking traitor!"

Before I could protest, she reached for my phone which I had left unattended. There was barely any time to pry it out of Jasmine's hands before she stood up and smashed it into the table, the rest of her posse scurrying away from the table before the pieces of glass could hit them. I didn't have to look to know that the whole cafeteria was watching this scene play out; it was only when I heard gasps coming from around us that I truly realized the extent of what had happened.

As the glass from my phone had bounced off the table, the sharp pieces flying in every direction, I had covered my face with my hands. So, when I slowly pried them away from my eyes, turning them around to identify where the stinging of my skin was coming from, my eyes fell on the three pieces of glass lodged into the back of my hands. It wasn't too deep, not enough to scar or cause real damage, but damn-- it burned like crazy.

With tears in my eyes, I watched as Jasmine snickered, clearly unaffected by the fact that she had caused me physical harm; "We're ready to make your life a living hell," she hissed. "That'll show you. Fucking whore."

Something inside me broke. Usually, I would've fought back, I would've said something-- but I froze. Completely. I had never felt anything like this, the mix of both physical and mental pain turning me to stone.

Fuck. Was this truly how everyone saw me? Nothing more than one of Roman's countless whores?

I knew this would haunt me for the following weeks to come, and I couldn't fight the way my mind shut down. The need to get away overcame me; with shaky steps, I got up from my table, realizing I was about to leave school despite the day not being finished.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

I had avoided Roman like the plague for the rest of the day-- I was almost as broken as my phone. I held the pieces in my hands under the dim lights of my desk in my room, nudging the glass around on the table. My phone had completely shattered, now just a heap of technology I held onto for the sake of nostalgia in a deep state of shock.

I kept glancing at my hands, my fingers ghosting over the three thin cuts that had parted my skin. They were thankfully not that grotesque to look at, and I was quite sure I could play it off as a scratch from a particularly large cat if anyone asked.

Or... so I hoped.

I wondered whether Letha knew about what had happened. Did she condone it? Had she been the one who ordered Jasmine and her gang to mess with me? Everything about this situation made my head spin-- Choosing Roman might've been the wrong decision. I kept thinking about an alternative universe in which I had never asked him to kiss me in the first place, or one where I had told Letha about my feelings for her cousin before it was too late.

It dawned on me that I had mostly likely made the wrong choice-- how was I supposed to deal with this?

Just as I was about to toss the remnants of my phone into the nearby bin, I heard a few knocks at my window which made me turn towards the sound. There he was, the last rays of today's sunlight making the bronze hues in his hair shine through; Roman tapped against the glass once more, eyes round with an emotion I couldn't piece together from afar.

I walked towards the window and opened it, leaning against the frame as I spoke; "What are you doing here?" My tone was sharper than expected-- seeing him didn't exactly make me feel any better.

"You haven't answered my messages," Roman didn't seem to be in a hurry about getting off my roof, making himself comfortable by sitting down by the window. "All day. Radio silence. I'm not really used to that from you, so... just checking to see whether you're having a stroke or something."

I did my best not to roll my eyes; "A stroke?"

"I don't know?" Roman shrugged, his green eyes never leaving mine. "What other explanation is there for a girl not answering me?"

I grimaced as I watched his expression. It was impossible to push down the intense feelings of frustration when I looked at him, all my love for him manifesting back to its usual hate-- I wouldn't have been in this situation if I hadn't met him. This was technically just as much his fault as mine.

Why did he look so confused? It suddenly hit me that he was being dead serious; he didn't get it at all. He genuinely couldn't find another reason for my absence. "Oh," was what I managed to say, clearing my throat as I sat down on the window sill. "Have you not heard?"

Roman blinked twice, clearly lost as he looked up at me. "Heard what?"

My eyes darted down to my hands, which I had covered with the sleeves of Roman's sweater without even thinking about it. "I thought everyone would be talking about it," I mumbled. "I guess that's a relief, then."

"What are you talking about?" The green of his eyes nearly swallowed me, and I found a tiny trace of genuine concern behind them, so miniscule I could barely notice it. "What happened?"

I wanted to disappear into a heap of nothing; it was so embarrassing that I had let this happen. My pride was definitely trying to choke the life out of me. "My phone broke," I breathed, automatically reaching for the hem of the sweatshirt out of nervous habit-- I felt my cheeks flush, nervous to be revisiting the moment that had haunted me all day.

Roman's brows furrowed, unsure how to react; "You made it sound like something really bad had happened. I could buy you a new one, no problem," He watched me pick at the sweatshirt, now reaching out for my hands to stop my destructive fidgeting.

I let out the breath I had been holding the second our fingers intertwined, feeling the roughness of his hands against mine. My eyes rested on the black hair ties he still wore around his wrist, a blooming warmth igniting in my chest and wading through all my anger. I was so swept up in the moment, comforted by the way he squeezed my hands twice, that I didn't catch the moment the sleeves of the sweater bunched up and revealed the cuts on the back of my hands. "You don't need to buy me a new phone, don't be ridiculous," I said, watching a single strand of his brown hair slowly fall over his eyes as he glanced down. "I'd feel bad--"

"What's this?" Roman's grip around my hands tightened, now bringing them up to his face.

It felt as though my breath had gotten lodged in my throat as I watched Roman's widening green eyes scan the surface of my hands. His brows drew together once more, thumbs swiping over the unhealed wounds. The touch made me hiss, attempting to get out of his grip, but to no avail. "It's the neighbour's cat," I tried. "I bent down to pet it, and--"

"This is not from a cat," Roman's gaze darted up to meet mine, suddenly a lot more intense than usual. "I'll ask you again, what happened?"

I tried to squirm out of his hold once more; "It's not important, Roman... Forget it, please. Actually, I'm going to have to ask you to leave--"

"Tell me,"

"No, seriously, drop it! Can't you just go?!--"

Roman's grip around my hands tightened further, almost to the point of making me wince. "Tell me," His pupils widened at an eerie rate, transfixed on mine. It felt as though his words were echoing through my head, and it didn't take long before I suddenly felt as though my inner monologue froze over.

And before I knew it, my mouth had a mind of its own; "They broke my phone,"

"Who?"

I really, really tried to fight it. Getting Roman involved in this drama was certainly not ideal, and I did my best to push away the urge to tell him; why was it so strong, all of a sudden? It almost felt as though he was controlling my mind, but it was ridiculous to even think so-- that was obviously impossible. Right?

I eventually got around to answering; "Jasmine,"

"... Who?" Roman was beginning to sound like a really confused owl.

"Jasmine," I echoed. "Letha's friend. She brought a few girls over to my table and smashed my phone. Called me a whore."

Roman was silent for a few seconds, his face going unnaturally blank. "These cuts are from your phone?"

"Yeah,"

"And she did it because you're with me?"

"... Yeah," Did he just insinuate that we were together? I held my breath, unsure why my mouth wasn't adhering to my orders-- I so desperately wanted to point it out, but I physically couldn't. What on earth was happening?

Roman hummed, his grip around my hands loosening. "What else did she say?"

I blinked several times in an attempt to get out of the trance-like state I found myself in, but nothing seemed to be working as long as Roman's gaze was locked on me. "She said she's gonna make my life a living hell," As I sniffled, I realized tears were pooling in my eyes. I squeezed them shut, shaking my head to try to snap out of it once more. "I- It's fine, though." It dawned on me that the trick was to not look at him-- I finally started feeling like myself again. "I just need to talk to Letha and check out the options for a truce, or whatever."

As I dared to open my eyes, I watched his blank face. Something about the lack of reaction was unsettling, on the border of uncomfortable, and it almost made me want to squirm. It was in this silence that a thick, red drop of blood suddenly made its way down Roman's nose, and he didn't react when it met his lips. It was almost as though he had frozen to his place on my roof, and I couldn't remember the last time he had blinked.

My eyes widened, concern filling my body. "You're bleeding," I breathed, trying to get my hands out of his. "Let me get something for you, Roman, it's gonna run down to your shirt!--"

Abruptly, he got up with a quickness I hadn't seen in him before, still not saying a word. Suddenly, I couldn't help but notice it-- the hickey on the right side of his throat. One he wasn't even trying to cover up. Despite how much Roman kept denying wanting to be with me, here he was, getting up to do God knows what whilst quite literally baring my mark on his skin.

I watched him, my brows drawing together in complete and utter confusion. "Roman?" Calling out his name didn't seem to do anything; he let the stream of blood run down his chin, now dripping down onto his shirt. I could only look up at him, unsure why he was acting like this.

Finally, Roman spoke; "Living hell, you say?" His voice was low, threatening-- it was suddenly clear to me that he had gotten a very dark idea.

These sorts of proclamations coming from a guy who had an affinity for pricking girls with needles genuinely concerned me. I got up from the window sill, ready to climb out onto the roof to join him. "Come on, Roman, let's just talk!--"

It was as though he was on auto-control, rushing to the edge of the roof before turning around to climb down. My heart beat hard in my chest as I nearly lunged out of my window, hoping to reach him in time. "Hey, where are you going?!"

I didn't make it-- Roman had already managed to land on the grass beneath him, his long limbs an apparent advantage, and he was now storming down my lawn towards his car.

"Roman!" I yelled, crouching down on the edge of my roof; this was definitely not looking good. My mind kept racing as I gave up trying to catch up to him, burying my face in my hands.

I was screwed. I was so screwed.

Chapter 5: say it

Summary:

Many questions had been left unanswered-- is Roman really going to take revenge on the girls that hurt you, and will the avalanche of events lead him to finally tell you the words you've been longing to hear from him?

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Roman had always been highly unpredictable-- but this, I should've expected.

My hands trembled as I reached for the brand new phone in my locker, realizing he had bought me the most recent model he could find. As I picked it up, I slowly pried away the attached post-it note;

taking care of things - the one thing I do well

Knowing I had asked him not to do this, I could only sigh as I tucked my new phone away in my pocket. The day had certainly started on an odd note, but my main concern wasn't this-- it was rather the question of what Roman had done after he stormed away from my house that kept my mind occupied.

Roman could be scary, and I was aware of this. But gifting me a brand new phone for several hundred dollars? It just proved I could never foresee his next moves. This only made me more anxious to learn why he had left my place in such a hurry shortly after seeing the cuts Jasmine had left on the back of my hands.

As I closed the door to my locker, a group of girls passed me, their whispers catching my attention. I turned around, ready to face off with another group of bitches just like yesterday, all until I realized what they were whispering about. It wasn't me.

I followed their gazes which were focused on something further down the hall, and it was at this moment that I spotted the man who hadn't answered any of my panicked messages or calls-- instead, he stood talking to Jasmine.

Thankfully, it seemed to be quite a heated conversation, unlike how he usually spoke to girls. Roman's brows were drawn together in anger, nearing her slowly in his typical tactic of intimidation, clearly telling her off; I stood frozen by my locker, not bothering to suppress my growing smile at the sight. My stomach fluttered with warmth as I realized that he was standing up for me.

... However, my smile quickly faltered as I caught the change in Jasmine's face. Her lips had been pursed, her finger had been drawn forward to point at him in defense, but her whole fight-back demeanor faded within the snap of a second. It was as though she lost all the blood in her face, eyes not blinking as they met Roman's intense gaze-- everything about her state reminded me of mine yesterday, when I suddenly couldn't control my own words when I looked into his eyes and he interrogated me about my wounds.

I couldn't deny how dangerous Roman looked, watching as he told her one last, short thing, before harshly nudging her shoulder and disappearing out of view.

Jasmine stood by her locker, completely frozen. I wondered whether she was still breathing, all until she finally moved. She slowly turned to stare into her reflection in the mirror she had hung up on her locker, still not blinking.

I didn't think I could shriek the way I did-- the extent of my voice was something I discovered as Jasmine unexpectedly slammed her head against the mirror, a loud thud echoing through the hall.

I wasn't the only one who had been caught by surprise, and I watched the people around her jump away in a mix of both fear and shock.

Jasmine didn't look like herself; her eyes were dull, hollow, as she brought her head to her locker once more, now leaving bloody cracks in the mirror.

I recognized Jasmine's posse of girls flocking to make their way through the crowds, and Letha appeared almost out of nowhere to grab her and pull her away from her locker. A shrill cry followed from Jasmine, who was clawing at Letha as though possessed. I watched as she fought, yelled-- I couldn't look at it anymore. I couldn't look at the tiny trickle of blood running down her nose, similar to Roman yesterday, or the small shards of glass she had managed to get lodged into her forehead.

I turned away, clasping a hand over my mouth as I squeezed my eyes shut; something told me that the sight of the whole thing would burn itself into my mind forever.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

Oh, how right I was. I kept replaying the whole scene, but I had oddly enough fixated on something that wasn't the blood-- suddenly, my mind kept replaying how ridiculously hot Roman looked leaned over Jasmine with his intense, big eyes.

I did my best not to think too much about it. I couldn't; it all brought back thoughts of how soft his lips were against mine.

Speaking of Roman, I didn't expect to talk to him at all today. He still hadn't answered any of my messages, so I assumed he needed time away to cool off. However, I knew I had him cornered when I accidentally walked into the chemistry lab, catching him in the middle of... an experiment?

This was certainly a new side of Roman which I hadn't seen before-- I had never seen him do anything school-related, as I had gathered he didn't care much for it from our study sessions at Letha's place before everything happened. But here he was, so consumed in whatever he was doing that he didn't acknowledge that I had closed the door, leaving us alone in a confined space.

I pressed my back against the cold door, watching him from afar. Something about how calm he was made me uneasy; why was he so focused? Roman, captivated by the small, compact container before him, kept his eyes on his work as he spoke; "Are you lost?"

My brows drew together as I watched him pour a liquid gel into the container which contained what looked like blood-- he was so meticulous that it gave me an inkling that he had done this several times before. "No," I mumbled, clearing my throat as I fought my queasiness at the sight of his experiment. "What are you doing?"

Roman barely reacted to my question, busy with putting the container into a machine nearby. "Genetic testing,"

"Since when do you know how to do that?"

Annoyed by my continuous interruptions, Roman's gloved hand put the blood-box into the machine and pressed a button to start it, finally looking up to meet my nervous, flickering gaze. "You certainly have a lot of questions today," he huffed, adjusting his protective glasses. "My turn. How are your hands?"

I suddenly became very aware of the cuts on the back of my hands, and my eyes diverted down to watch my thumbs nervously brush over my wounded skin. "They'll heal. I'm not too worried about it," My next inquiry was one I was wary to say, but it became obvious to me that I had to; "I'm more worried about why you stormed off like that last night."

Roman didn't move a muscle, watching me with a blank look on his face. "You told me to go,"

"Come on," I was reminded of what my state had led me to yesterday; the way I wanted to push Roman away, to never see him again. But here I was, standing before him with no greater wish than to run to him. "I was worried sick that you'd do something... You looked like you were ready to kill someone." It was at this moment that I dared to look back at him and suddenly caught a glimpse of the hickey I had left on the side of his throat-- I immediately felt a familiar warmth creep up my cheeks, leaving me with a flustered, reddening expression on my face. "What did you do?"

Roman tilted his head to the side, scanning my state. "I haven't done anything--"

"Then why did you?--"

"Major," Roman bit down on his lower lip, trying to suppress his shameless grin. The familiar spark in his green eyes returned, and I could see it perfectly clear through his protective gear-- no matter how worried his words made me, that look never failed to make the butterflies in my stomach explode all over the place.

I had to pull myself together, but my voice came out frail and shaky; "You're kidding, right?"

I recognized Roman's wish to remain reactionless and the way he fought the rounding out of his big, green eyes. It seemed to dawn on him that I was genuinely concerned. "... Sure. But what did you think of what happened this morning with Jasmine?"

"What?" That was certainly unexpected-- "Why?" I wanted to ask what he had said to her, but something told me he wouldn't tell me the truth about it anyway. Instead, I opted to find comfort in the fact that he had confronted her for my sake.

Roman shrugged before his attention moved back to the machine. It was beeping rather obnoxiously, a sound impossible to ignore. He got back to work, pressing a few buttons here and there; "Just wondering. Did it not make you feel good to see her like that?"

I couldn't put my finger on why he was asking these peculiar questions. "Well... No? I was mostly scared. I've never seen anyone have a nervous breakdown before, and I didn't expect something like that to happen to Jasmine,"

"Nervous breakdown," Roman echoed, checking some numbers he had written down on a sheet nearby. Something told me he was upset I wasn't over the moon about it. "Don't you feel like she deserved it?"

It was mind-boggling to hear him talk like this, with such nonchalance about a girl slamming her head bloody-- I had suppressed the memory of this side of him. The inclination to anything pain-related, the scorching look of amusement in his green eyes at the sight of my flaring anxiety, and the infamous fucking needles. How he had gotten hard when seeing how scared I was when we hid from Letha on our first date.

I hated every reminder of this side of Roman. Hated it.

"I don't think anyone deserves to be driven to that," I mumbled, picking at my nails out of nervous habit. "I didn't know she was dealing with anything that would lead her to do that. Maybe that's why she acted out yesterday? I hope that's the reason, and not because Letha sent her to do it... " With a sigh, I brought my hands up to rub my temples. "It was so damn scary... The whole thing. And ever since, my head has been hurting like crazy."

Taking in the silence that ensued, Roman tapped the spot next to him on the counter-- come here.

I held my breath as I made my way over with shy steps, hoisting myself up on the cold surface. I watched as Roman removed his gloves along with the protective glasses, now reaching forward to part my legs and make space for himself between them. He listened to the hitch of my breath as he laid his hands on my hips, his calculated gaze scanning mine whilst pulling me towards him.

By instinct, I rested my hands on his broad shoulders, taking in the moment our breaths became shared. Right now, it was impossible to believe that I had made the wrong choice in choosing him over my friendship with Letha-- something about the tenderness with which he was touching me, told me he was changing right before my eyes.

With baby steps, of course.

Roman seemed to be taking pity on my state, softly nudging his upturned nose against mine. "Try not to think about it too much," he breathed, watching as I closed my eyes to savour the moment. "Trust that I know how to take care of this."

No, no, no-- "Please don't say that," I pulled away, my hands slowly reaching for his face, searching for the intent behind his eyes. "I know you well enough to know that you're capable of things I don't want to get into, and honestly? You scare me when you say shit like that."

Roman's brows drew together in a troubled look; "I scare you?"

"Yeah," I breathed, stroking my thumbs across his cheeks. "You and your infamous needles and stuff."

A drawn-out groan ensued-- "Again with the fucking needles!--"

"Roman!" My grip on his face hardened in an attempt to keep his focus. I watched his green eyes widen, clearly not used to being handled like that. "Whatever it is, please snap out of it! You can't even tell me that you're into me, but you're ready to go back to being all dark, and for what? My honour?"

Something in Roman's eyes changed-- For once in his life, he was stunned, unable to utter a proper response.

Overcome by a newfound sense of confidence in his unproclaimed feelings for me, I gently twisted my fingers into the nape of his neck, pulling him in for a soft kiss. Roman let out a relieved sigh against my lips, his grip on my hips tightening as he moved me closer to the edge of the counter, closer to him.

It took a lot of willpower to disconnect our kiss, the warmth of his touch luring me in. "I'm serious," I said, nudging his nose as I felt his breath hot against my upper lip. "I can stand up for myself--"

"Shut up," Roman's lips came crashing against mine with a hunger I hadn't expected, especially knowing we could be walked in on at any moment. But I gave in, letting his greedy hands travel further to grab my ass, pressing me against him as his tongue moved softly against mine.

Usually, I'd taste the hints of his cinnamon cigarettes, but today there was nothing-- I knew he didn't smoke the days he knew he had to be focused. There wasn't much time to ponder why, especially now that our kiss heated further.

As I felt Roman drive his teeth into my lower lip, I could only whimper against him. My grip on his hair tightened in an attempt to pull him even closer, but the sharp sting of the tug only fueled Roman's obvious growing need for more.

It was building in me as well-- in my anxious daze, I had forgotten how good it felt to feel him against me. How thrilling every touch, every kiss, every little breath was. And if anyone had told me a month ago that Roman Godfrey would be grabbing my ass in the chemistry lab, I would've probably fainted; which I struggled not to do right now.

And I knew we would've gone further, beyond all restrictions and rules of the school, had the door not opened with a loud creak.

Squeaking, I pushed Roman away out of pure instinct. He didn't go very far, feet planted to the ground, as his hands trailed down to rest comfortably at my thighs when he met the eyes of the intruder of our moment.

Letha still held onto the doorknob as though her life depended on it, knuckles nearly turning white at the sheer force-- she inhaled sharply, not yet able to exhale.

I felt like an icicle, frozen by fear on the counter after meeting the eyes of my ex-best friend. Roman's hands on my thighs burned, the realization of being caught in such a compromising position making me want to burst into flames like the witches of Salem.

Roman took the lead, catching onto the intense staring-contenst which ensued between me and his cousin; "Did you need anything?" he asked, gaze hardening.

Letha cleared her throat, letting go of the door. I couldn't help but notice the slight shake of her hands. "I need to talk to you, Ro,"

"I don't want to talk,"

She sighed, visibly fed up with her stubborn cousin; "We didn't finish this conversation yesterday. Don't act like we're not still talking because she's here,"

Oh? I held my breath, my nervous gaze moving to Roman. He remained unfazed, but the minuscule twitch of his eye revealed that he didn't enjoy that information being aired out. "What do you want?"

"To talk. It's important," Letha glanced at me once more, an unintelligible emotion glossing over her eyes as she looked back at me; "Could you please leave?"

It took a few seconds before I realized she was talking to me. The coldness in her voice broke my heart all over-- I didn't have the energy to fight her. Uncomfortable and mortified by the situation, I nodded to myself before sliding off the counter, Roman's hand never leaving me. He now held onto my arm, not letting me go just yet. Leaning down to my level, he made sure he had my attention before he spoke in a hushed tone; "My number is already in your phone. Give me a text when you're free for lunch,"

My heart leaped up into the air as Roman pressed his lips against my forehead, the sincerity of the gesture flustering me beyond any previous point-- it was especially meaningful now that he did it in front of Letha. Realizing there was no going back, I got up on my toes to give him a short, soft kiss, feeling the plushness of his lips against mine before making my way to the door.

Passing Letha might've taken less than a second, but it felt like hours. I felt her green eyes burn into me, a sense of shock apparent in her body. We exchanged a short look, and I wondered whether I imagined the look of longing that so clearly streaked across her face; I didn't allow myself to dwell on it.

After closing the door behind me, I realized I had been holding my breath. I took a moment, regaining my composure before I got ready to kick off the door-- all until it dawned on me how clearly I could hear Letha's voice through the wall. My heart stopped, realizing I was about to do something I never thought I'd do; I pressed my ear against the door, mentally beating myself up for doing this.

"I see you guys are still getting along," Letha said, her fingers tapping against the door. "That's longer than any of the other friends you've stolen from me."

Roman groaned-- I didn't need to see him to know that he was rolling his eyes. "Get to the point,"

I drove my body closer to the door to hear them better, hearing Letha stepping away from the other side of it to come closer to her cousin. "Tell me why I had to drive Jasmine to school today because the wheels of her car had been punctured? Or even worse, how she got a note under her bedroom door saying she should watch her back?"

There was a long silence before Roman finally answered, a hint of humor in his voice; "... Maybe she should, then?--"

"Ro, you were in her house! Are you out of your mind?!"

As he groaned, I could almost see his usual annoyed stance and the way he grabbed the surface in front of him as his anger simmered to a boil. "Me? I would be more concerned about your own mind if I were you! Your cunt of a friend would've done it all again in a heartbeat if I hadn't scared her a little!"

Letha gasped; "What are you talking about? You have no right to call her a!--"

"That bitch hurt her!" Roman's fist came down against the counter, the thud making me jump away from the door. "Have you seen the state of her hands? How do you expect me to react when our petty bullshit comes down to this?!"

I imagined the stunned look across Letha's face, the way her eyes widened as her lips parted, unable to find the right words. Eventually, she spoke; "Jasmine did what?"

I pressed myself harder up against the door, closing my eyes as it dawned on me how concerned Letha sounded. Everything about it made my heart swell with hope-- this meant she hadn't been the one to send Jasmine and her girls. If anything, she sounded horrified about the ordeal.

"Yeah... She did. And when I talked to Jasmine this morning, she seemed quite proud of it. You should be damn happy I didn't kill her on the spot," I heard the humming of the blood machine starting again, along with the snapping of gloves being pulled back on, indicating that Roman was back to work. "But does Jasmine suspect it's me?" he asked, a certain nonchalance about him. "The car and all?"

Letha sighed, trying to contain her outbursts; "She has no idea. And now she's just rambling incoherent things after what happened this morning... I think she's concussed,"

A hum. "Good,"

I clasped a hand over my mouth to suppress a snort. Against my palm, I could feel my growing smile as I realized this confirmed that Roman wasn't motivated to take revenge on Jasmine to quench his thirst to cause fear, but that he cared for me.

He cared for me.

My smile only grew as I stepped away from the door-- He cared for me. He cared for me!

Now, what remained was for Roman to actually own up to it... And I realized I was grinning as the perfect idea of how to get it out of him came to mind. But my plans came to a hard stop when Letha's voice sounded through the door once more; "Whose blood are you using this time?" she joked, trying to lighten the mood. I grimaced as I walked back to the door; I felt bad listening in on their conversation. Still, I imagined Letha was pointing at the machine Roman was using, as it kept making noise.

"Jasmine's," Roman mumbled. "Got enough scraped off her locker to make a sample."

"Ro, that's not funny!--"

"Why haven't you girls made up yet?"

Letha sounded confused as she mentioned my name, not having foreseen the change of subject. "Are you seriously asking me that?"

"Yeah? It's getting annoying at this point. I thought this would blow over several weeks ago," With another loud beep, Roman stopped the machine. "She talks about you a lot. Gets all quiet when I tell her we're having family dinner at your house... And she still has a picture of you two by her bed."

"Oh, and how do you know that? Did you spot it one of the times you were reaching for the condoms on her nightstand?"

His breathing got harder, choppy, before his frustration sounded through his answer; "It's not like that,"

"Okay, then," Letha snorted, clearly not sold. "I'll put it simply for you. How would you feel if I fucked your best friend?"

"Ew, don't give me that mental image!--"

"Fuck you, just imagine a world where I would be enough of an asshole to do that! Imagine I slept with Peter. How would you feel?"

Roman took his time to answer, clearly flustered. "... I get it, okay? I get it!"

"No, you don't," I could almost see the way Letha now avoided his gaze. "But... did it have to be her? Why couldn't you mess around with anyone else, why did you choose the first girl I trusted to get close to me after you screwed all my other friends?"

Learning of his previous conquests with Letha's long line of friends made me sick, but I focused on the fact that Roman remained quiet. Honestly, I would've cut off my left arm in exchange for seeing him right now. I wondered whether he could meet her eyes or not, and whether he was defensive or anxious.

Eventually, Roman answered; "She... sees me. And she makes me feel good about myself. So I'm sorry your bitch-friend got hurt or whatever, but I'm just trying to return the favour,"

I had to do a lot to contain my instinctual jump of joy-- I was two seconds away from skipping down the hallway like a German child in a fairytale. Everything about this conversation made me want to squeal and melt into the door.

However, the other part of me hurt for Letha. Hurt for the girl who knew me better than anyone else, hurt for the first person to have shown me true friendship. I hoped that we could get together someday, to talk it out like people, and not like the two crazy families from Romeo and Juliet.

The rest of the conversation quickly became a childish spat similar to one between siblings-- I stepped away from the door, making sure to keep breathing.

The most important thing I gathered from that conversation was the fact that Roman saw me and that he definitely had feelings for me. However, I couldn't quite put my finger on why he couldn't say it to my face. If he was willing to go so far as to scare off Jasmine for my sake, why couldn't he look me in the eye and tell me what he truly felt about me? I knew it would make me feel much better to get his feelings for me confirmed-- the fact that he was evading it left me uneasy. Uncomfortable. And quite frankly, it only made me further insecure.

What if I had sacrificed my relationship with Letha for someone who would never commit to one with me?

My mind returned to the plan I previously made up with my ear pressed to the door; maybe Roman just needed a push in the right direction?

Either that, or I had been led on like the biggest idiot of the century.

I couldn't do this anymore-- I needed to know.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

And so, it was all set in motion.

The first part of the plan was to find out whether it was necessary to have a plan at all. This, I decided to investigate in the backseat of Roman's car.

It used to be a place that I refused to step foot in after hearing of his cheerleader-conquests. However, right now, it was a place of comfort and peace; he had parked it somewhere desolate, per my request. My parents had gotten suspicious after hearing steps on the roof the other day, and were now watching the whole area around our house like hawks to spot any possible intruders. So, as I didn't want to be caught sneaking a boy into my room, I told Roman to get creative-- and he had hit the jackpot.

This summer night was nice and warm, and we lay curled up in the back of his car as we stared up at the starry sky; this was one of the perks of Roman's car having the function of pulling down the roof. He sat with his back against the car door, me between his legs with my head leaned on his shoulder, the both of us looking up at tonight's constellations decorating the darkness above.

"I'm not even going to act like I know what that one is," I mumbled, pointing up at the scatter of stars. I wrapped myself further up in his sweater, tracing patterns over the arm he had around me-- the night air was crisp, filled with the earthy scent of grass and the faintest hint of rain as my body filled with a certain satisfaction I hadn't felt in a while.

Roman chuckled, pressing a kiss against my cheek as his arm pulled my back flush against his chest. Like this, I could spot my hair ties still worn around his wrists. "It's the Little Bear constellation," he murmured, his long, slender fingers rubbing circles into my side. "See how it looks like a bear cub?"

I decided not to lie; he'd see right through me, anyway. "... No,"

"No?" Roman reached forward to grab my hand into his, closing one eye to position my hand properly with his vision. "Even if I trace it for you?"

It was impossible not to blush. His hand against mine, his warmth against my skin-- everything about this was so incredibly intimate, and I had to hold myself back from simply jumping him out of pure joy. "I-- Well," It was hard to speak when I was this flustered. I swallowed hard before trying again; "I don't think bears have long tails like that."

Roman seemed amused by my answer; "You make a good point," he purred, gently intertwining our fingers before bringing my hand towards his lips, pressing a kiss against my cuts. "As always."

I only blushed further, not bothering to suppress my smile anymore. Turning to him, I watched his big, green eyes meet mine with a softness that nearly made me melt right into him. "How do you even know all of this?" I asked, leaning my head on his shoulder. "You don't strike me as a constellation nerd."

Roman rolled his eyes, feigning annoyance. Something told me he was charmed by the subtle compliment of his intellect; "Is it hard for you to believe I'm not braindead?"

"Maybe," I turned back towards the stars, hoping he wouldn't spot my grin. "Pretty boys usually don't even know how to count to forty."

Chuckling, Roman nuzzled his cheek against the top of my head, wrapping both arms around me again. "So now I'm pretty, huh?"

"Yeah," I mumbled, deciding to be blunt-- I didn't gain anything by lying to him about it, anyway. Not after everything we had been through. "I think you're really damn pretty."

Something told me he hadn't expected the frankness, or for me to even be truthful at all. Roman remained quiet, taking in the sweetness of the moment. He took the time to kiss my temple, humming against my skin; "I think you're pretty too," he murmured. "Very, very pretty."

There was no way to suppress the blush burning its way up my cheeks, and I closed my eyes to savour the moment he kissed me. Roman was being so gentle, so loving-- I couldn't believe this was the same boy I had been running away from because I was scared he'd prick me with his scary needles. He seemed to notice how flustered I got from the compliment, letting out a warm chuckle as his gaze turned up at the sky again. As he pointed out a new constellation, Roman's voice was laced with a kind of wonder that made me smile; "If you want the full answer, it is the fact that there's something more up there that makes it interesting. Something much bigger than us... Something worth reaching for, y'know? The stars are just a blatant sign,"

I turned to look at him, watching the way his green eyes sparkled almost as brightly as the stars above us. Roman was so painfully beautiful, and so wonderfully at ease-- there was nothing I wanted more than for him to feel this peaceful all the time. I knew it would be good for his soul.

I wondered whether Roman knew that he was something worth reaching for, as well.

Everything about this evening made my body feel like gelatin. I couldn't even feel my fingers anymore, engulfed in the euphoria that was Roman. This was the perfect distraction from everything that had happened this week, and I realized it was also the perfect time to set my plan in motion; "So... you're willing to admit I'm pretty, but you're not going to say it?"

"Say what?"

I shrugged, feeling myself grow nervous. Roman was usually the one to mess up cute moments by saying something stupid, but I wondered whether now was my turn. "That you like me,"

However, he remained unfazed-- or, at least he was very good at acting like he was. His silence made me further anxious, now starting to wonder if I was the reason he wasn't able to say it to my face. Maybe he wasn't as into me as I had thought? Maybe this was just how he treated every girl he liked?

I knew it wasn't, but I realized I was spiraling; I needed him to spell it out for me. I really, really hoped he would-- then I wouldn't have to go that dreaded extra length and go into phase two of my plan.

Roman pressed his lips against the top of my head, clearly lost in thought as he brought me back from mine. "Do you need me to?"

That was a good question-- one I knew the answer of. "I think so, yeah..."

"You need it spelled out?"

"Yeah,"

"Verbatim?"

"Verbatim, Rome,"

The nickname seemed to throw him off; he let out a breathy chuckle, shifting to get a good look at me. "Since when am I Rome to you?"

I shrugged, meeting his green eyes. "Since... now?"

Roman smiled down at me, clearly flattered. "Cute," he breathed, leaning in to place a sweet kiss against my cheek. I giggled as Roman's fingers dug into my skin, pressing me further up against him in a flash of passion-- although this moment was perfect in theory, I knew I hadn't gotten what I wanted out of him tonight, and I dreaded what I had to do because of it.

Quite frankly, I dreaded it mostly because I was very well aware that the second part of my plan was incredibly high-risk. Stupid. Reckless, even.

However, I didn't see any other way of forcing those three words out of Roman that I needed so much. How else was I supposed to prove to myself that I hadn't sacrificed my friendships for nothing?

I dreaded every single step up I took as I made my way through the cafeteria the next day. In my peripheral view, I saw Roman sitting next to his best friend, Peter, chatting away about something as none of them had noticed me yet. It was only when I caught Roman's eyes that my heart started racing-- I watched his confusion build as I started walking in the opposite direction.

Determined, I knew this was the perfect moment to execute the second part of the plan. I did my best to keep my face neutral, hoping not to be visibly bothered by Roman's watchful stare, as I deliberately sat down next to Daniel-- the guy who had flirted with me at an assembly a month ago.

I specifically chose Daniel because I remembered Roman saying he had noticed me talking to him; I also knew that this guy was the key to making him see the consequences of staying unofficial.

I didn't need to look at Roman to know he was seething.

Daniel turned to me, putting down his fork. We hadn't talked since I started seeing Roman and stopped responding to his messages-- he was visibly confused, but there was a certain sparkle in his blue eyes that gave away his delight. "Hi?" He quickly turned to his friends who were all staring at us and motioned for them to get back to their own shit.

"Hey, you," I shifted in my seat, attempting to make myself comfortable whilst Roman's gaze drilled holes into the side of my skull. "Haven't seen you in a hot minute. How are you?" Putting on my nicest smile, I tilted my head a little as I spoke-- that used to work on him.

Daniel blinked twice, clearly unsure what to say. "Uh... Yeah, of course I haven't seen you, you've been busy with Roman," His eyes darted over to the latter, watching as my very unofficial boyfriend glared daggers his way. "I'm fine now, but I'm afraid I won't be later if you don't move soon."

This had been one of the driving factors of me not falling for Daniel-- this guy was an absolute wuss. I did my best not to roll my eyes, knowing how to rope him back in again; I placed a gentle hand against his arm, rounding out my eyes as Daniel turned back to me. His blonde hair fell over his eyes, a bright contrast to the dark blue of his varsity jacket, as his heart visibly skipped a beat.

"You want me to move?" I tried, keeping my tone soft as I gave his arm a short squeeze.

In my peripheral view, I caught a glimpse of Roman stiffening in his seat. His green, intense eyes narrowed, his jaw clenched, and his fingers tapped impatiently against the table as his mood darkened. That same, unmistakable anger looming over him like a dark cloud worried me-- I knew I didn't have much time to make my point before he'd explode.

However, distractingly comical, was the sight of Peter next to him, debating whether to put his hand on his best friend's shoulder in an attempt to calm him down; his hand kept jerking back and forth, jumping with every twitch of Roman's eye.

Daniel swallowed hard, his gaze never leaving mine. "Well... You don't have to move," He cleared his throat, giving in to a nervous chuckle. "You're already here, I guess. Pretty as always."

I had to fight my instincts to not throw up in my mouth-- it made me physically ill to flirt with him when I was so sickeningly crazy about Roman. "Oh, you're too kind," I tried, forcing a smile.

Daniel flashed me that typical heartthrob smile of his, finally giving in to my antics. He tilted his head, mimicking me, as his eyes sparkled with want; "Fuck, I've missed seeing you around,"

That seemed to be enough for Roman-- his possessive intensity came to a simmer, boiling over. He kicked away his chair as he got up, an angry groan escaping him as stormed off with balled fists. Peter sent me a sharp look of come on before he left his food behind to follow his best friend.

That was my cue to leave. "I, uh... Sorry," Releasing Daniel's arm with a quickness I didn't know I had in me, I practically jumped out of my seat, allowing myself to shudder when I was out of view. I didn't like touching any other guy like that, but I hoped that Roman would take the time to let it dawn on him that this could be his reality if he didn't step the fuck up.

... I really hoped that would be his conclusion.

However, it dawned on me that this might've been my biggest misstep so far. I had learned that one of the most important things for Roman, was loyalty-- maybe I shouldn't have toyed with his perception of mine?

Putting it all together, I realized I should've expected it to blow up in my face.

The third and final part of my plan had been simple in my head; Roman would confront me about what had happened in the cafeteria, and then he'd tell me he couldn't stand the sight of me with another man and therefore wants us to be official.

... It seems that I had gotten in over my head.

The exact opposite of that happened. Now, Roman wasn't answering my calls. He would walk past me in the hallway as though I was a ghost, even though the fading hickey on the side of his neck served as a reminder of our time together. I hadn't expected him to ignore me like this, I really hadn't-- he was utterly unforgiving.

It had been three days of no contact. No shared glances, no exchanged words, simply because I got too confident. Why had I thought it would be so easy to get what I wanted? Why had I felt the need to drag a confession out of him when his actions spoke for him?

Roman had made sure none of Letha's friends would touch me again-- or, at least in the near future, seeing as the main instigator was at home with a severe concussion. He had put in a good word for me with Letha, he had bought me a new phone, and he had opened up enough to both accept and enjoy physical affection. Why hadn't I seen it this clearly before I messed it all up?

It all came down to one moment in the hallway.

Exhausted and alone, I had zoned out like I usually did to distract myself from everything as I rummaged through my locker for my book. My body felt heavy with the sadness coursing through my veins, knowing I had no one anymore. No one. My every moment was slow, not having the energy to hurry much as I spent an unusual amount of time looking for the specific book I needed.

Up until my body froze at the sight to my right.

My head slowly turned to watch what was happening a few meters down the hall. There he was, the man that had haunted my every waking moment, vexed my every thought, with a girl.

Roman had that classic heartbreaker look about him as always, leaning his hand next to the girl's head against the locker. From this angle, I could see the upward turn of his nose, the way his smirk painted across his lips, and the way his eyes practically sparkled at the sight of his next prey.

The most jarring part about it was the fact that I could still see my hair ties around Roman's wrist as his palm lay flat against the locker behind her, almost as though it was on purpose.

It became downright nauseating when the girl giggled and started twirling her finger around her hair-- I did my best not to throw up my breakfast. Questions raced through my mind, fogging up my brain; why was he doing this here, in front of me? Why was he doing this at all?

I was sure this was what people meant when speaking of tasting their own medicine.

I stood frozen by my locker, one hand still shoved beneath the rubble of books, as involuntary tears pressed up against my eyes. I tried to ground myself with a few deep breaths, yet the world around me felt as though it was crumbling. All these games were so damn childish from the both of us; when would it end? I was living through my worst nightmare, and it became a hundred times worse when I realized I had been warned about this before by Roman himself.

I was reminded of the first night we kissed in that closet during seven minutes of heaven;

Oh, if only he'd known how right he was. Now I had no one to run to, no one to seek comfort from, all because of my own stupidity. Not only had I managed to lose all my friends, but now I had lost the one thing I had sacrificed everything for; Roman.

A pit formed in my stomach as I watched him lean closer to her, laughter dancing between them. Didn't he know how much that hurt? Didn't he see me standing here, shattered? I was so lost in the shock, that when Roman turned to face me, revealing that he knew exactly where I was and that I was watching, I barely registered it. My eyes had welled up in tears, looking completely shell-shocked as I watched his smirk immediately falter at the sight of my watery gaze.

In a flash of action, I slammed my locker shut, not bothering to look for my book anymore. I needed to get away. Now.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

When I got home that same day, I had expected to be left in peace-- that was the most logical conclusion. My parents were at a loss with what to do with me, and of course I had no friends reaching out to check up on me. I was quite sure I had hit the lowest of the low, simply sinking into a state of forced apathy as I lay with my face down into my pillow, spreading out on my bed wearing Roman's enormous sweater. I was quite sure I had been like this for hours, not getting up, not eating-- I didn't care anymore.

I couldn't care; it would break me. Just like that sight of Roman with that girl.

I touched my neck, feeling the soreness of my fading hickeys as lightning struck outside. There were barely any traces now, and the realization that they would be gone in a day or two hit me like a truck. Thankfully, I didn't have many tears left in my body. I lay in the coldness of the puddle of grief I had left on my pillow, shivering as it dawned on me that I might never feel Roman's lips against mine again. Never feel his hands around my waist, never be in the back of his car, and never get to lay in his arms ever again. As the heavy rain continued to tap against my window, every drop felt like a reminder of the moments we'd shared, slipping away.

I remembered that first time Roman smiled at me in class. Every memory came to me; the rush of excitement coursing through my veins during our first kiss, the feeling of laughing with him at that café on our first date, and the way I would sometimes wake up to Roman's arm tightly wrapped around me in a protective, loving embrace. He wanted to hold me, even in sleep.

He wanted me. Roman Godfrey wanted me, and I threw it all away because of my incessant need for him to commit.

And just as I was about to choke out any remaining tears, I heard a knock at my door. I didn't care to move, knowing my parents knew of my state, as my words got muffled against my pillow; "What is it? I'm not having dinner!"

"That's not it," My parents seemed to be whispering between themselves before one of them continued; "Sweetie... there's a boy for you at the door."

I bounced off of the bed as though I had heard a gunshot, and I landed on the floor with a groan as I crashed down against the hard wood. Wondering whether the thud had sounded through the ceiling downstairs, I realized I didn't have time to think about that; "Okay, give me-- Give me a second!" I got up from the floor, feeling my breath get stuck in my chest as I ran to my mirror, doing my best to fix the way I looked before leaving my room.

My thoughts were racing as I made my way past my parents, realizing they were staying upstairs to give us some space. I didn't need to guess who the boy at the door was-- still, I froze halfway down the stairs at the sight of him.

There he was, drenched in rain. Roman took a deep breath at the sight of me, watching the way his sweater draped over my shoulders with his big, green eyes. He, too, seemed to have frozen to his spot like an icicle, and a thick silence ensued as I gripped onto the banister of the stairs-- I was afraid I'd faint and roll right down. As he stood there, cold and vulnerable, I felt the walls of insecurity I had built up begin to crumble; his presence was both a comfort and a reminder of everything I'd lost.

Even worse was the way I tensed up, ready for him to yell at me and blow up. My grip on the banister tightened to suppress the subtle shake of my hands as I held my breath.

Finally, Roman spoke-- but it was far from what I had imagined him to say; "I don't know what happened. It doesn't make sense," His eyes rounded out, so heartbreakingly sincere. "We were good, and suddenly we weren't. I made sure you were safe from those girls, and then you went and flirted with that assembly guy... It doesn't make any sense."

I let in a long, shaky breath, feeling the guilt seeping through my veins. "I thought... I thought I needed you to say it,"

"Say what?" Roman shivered, clearly cold from his wet clothes. It made me wonder how long he had paced back and forth in the rain before approaching the door. "That I like you?"

My cheeks burned-- "Yeah..."

Another wave of silence ensued as Roman no longer met my gaze, biting his teeth together as he tried to steady his breathing. I could feel hints of his brewing anger beneath his attempts to keep calm; "Did you need me to say it so bad?" he mumbled. "Have I not shown you what I feel for you? Was it not blatantly obvious?"

Everything about his tone made me want to burst into tears-- it made me feel seven again, being told off in front of the whole class. "I'm sorry," I didn't know what else to say, at a loss for words. "You're just so hot and cold sometimes, I thought it would make me feel better if I got it confirmed. I sacrificed so much to be with you, and it was freaking me out that you couldn't say you want to be with me as well... I guess it really got to me."

It was clear that Roman was conflicted, consumed by a storm of thoughts. His green eyes softened, his brows drawing together in a look of melancholic sorrow as he let out a sigh. "I hear you, but it's just... Those girls went after you because you were with me. I know you've had a tough time, and I didn't want to make it any worse for you by making us official... By making my feelings official," His voice trembled, revealing the cracks in his tough exterior-- it was as though the weight of his own fears had finally become too much to bear.

Another wave of guilt washed over me, knowing I had driven him to this point with my schemes. "Why would that make it worse?" I dared to take another step down the stairs, letting go of the banister. "Wouldn't it be a good thing? Don't you think it would've made me feel better?"

Roman's eyes fixated on the laces of his wet shoes, and I watched him change his weight from one foot to the other. It was obvious that he was nervous, especially as he cleared his throat. "I don't think I'd be a good boyfriend," he mumbled. "I shut down. I retaliate when I'm angry. And I don't know whether Letha would ever forgive you if we got into a relationship, and I know that would crush you."

Despite the reminder of Letha, I had to bite down on my bottom lip to suppress my growing smile-- it warmed my heart to hear how he had thought this through down to every last detail.

Roman was rambling at this point; "I was just so shocked when you went to Daniel, I thought I was going to faint. The way you smiled at him, the way you touched him... I couldn't even look at you these past few days, and then I couldn't stand the silence either, hence that show in the hallway... I just didn't expect you to cry. I fucking lost it,"

I reached the end of the stairs by the time he was done, now close enough to see that his drenched clothes were leaving small puddles of rain along the hardwood floor. "Roman--"

"--And I just don't want to hurt you, y'know?" He finally looked up to meet my gaze, an unfamiliar emotion swimming in his green eyes. There was a certain desperation about him as his words came out like a stream in a never-ending river; "Because even though we're fighting, you're still in my sweater. And even though you're fucking infuriating, I still want to hold you. No matter what people think, you're good. You're sweet, you're kind, you... There is a sanctity about you in my mind. I really don't want to hurt you, but it's fucking inevitable with me! That's just who I am!"

I was batting away tears at this point; "Rome, please, that's not!--"

"--Of course I like you!" Roman's eyes glossed over, letting his emotions shine through his tough exterior at the sound of his new nickname. "If anything, I adore you half to death, and you doubting that makes me feel like I've failed! I've failed to keep you happy, I've failed to make you feel seen, and I'm just-- I'm a mess!"

Attempting to pat away my tears with the sleeve of Roman's sweater, I sniffled as I realized I was unsuccessful, my tears now spilling down my cheeks. Suddenly, many parts of him made sense to me; after finally letting me hear his true, inner thoughts, I had never seen him more clearly than now.

Roman sniffled as well, head hanging low in shame. "Why would you want a mess?" he echoed, his voice breaking. "I don't want to hurt you. I really, really don't."

Enough-- It was breaking my heart to hear him so broken. I finally dared to step towards him, slowly reaching for his soaked jacket. Roman's eyes widened as he watched me hang it up in the hallway; "What are you?--"

"Stay the night," I placed myself in front of him, having to get up on my tippytoes to brush his wet hair away from his forehead. "My parents probably won't mind if I ask nicely."

Roman's green eyes rounded out with every soft touch against his skin, and he placed his hands over mine as I cupped his face; it dawned on me that I hadn't felt so calm in a while. "I want to be yours, Rome. In every sense of the word," My thumbs stroked over his cheeks, watching his heavy lids fall over his eyes as he keened against my touch, succumbing to the comfort. "So what if you're a mess? You think I'm not, with the way I've been running around you for months like a dog?"

It warmed my heart to hear him laugh, even if it was for a few seconds-- I knew my eyes weren't deceiving me when I spotted a tear or two heavying down his long lashes, making their way out of hiding.

I had to bat away my own, my voice barely baring through the sentence; "You're much kinder than you think you are, much more gentle... If only I could make you see it yourself," Getting up to his level was impossible, but I was able to tilt his head down enough for me to place a soft kiss between his brows. "I want us to be together. I want us to at least have each other,"

Roman's breath hitched, letting his hands travel down to rest at my waist as he opened his eyes. revealing an ocean of tears about to spill down his rosy cheeks. "We're going to crash and burn,"

"... Let us, then,"

It was as though time stood still in the moments I waited for signs of a yes. My thumbs stroked over his temples, realizing our chests were rising and falling at the same time, trapping us in one breath, one body. For a second, it felt as though Roman and I melted into each other, the green of his eyes engulfing me with a look that told me everything I needed to know.

Roman's breath was hot and heavy as he searched for the right words. I was sure he'd said enough dumb things for a lifetime to know he needed to choose wisely for once. But hence, his lips curled up into the sweetest smile known to man as he spoke against mine--

"Let us," he breathed. "Let's burn together, then."

Notes:

a/n: I was SO tempted to call this chapter 'Roman's Revenge' omfg where are all my barbs at? lmaoooo thank you for reading the story so far!!<3333

Chapter 6: Roman's girl

Summary:

After Roman finally confesses his feelings, will it be enough to subside your longing for the past? Coming face to face with Letha might uncover the truth...

Chapter Text

This was certainly not how I had expected this night to go-- the turn of events truly hit me as Roman sat on the edge of my bed, hair still wet from the shower.

I couldn't believe he was my boyfriend. I couldn't believe it at all.

On top of everything, he looked gorgeous as always, especially in the moonlight. After he had gotten drenched from the rain, I had given him his sweater back and lent him the only pair of sweatpants I knew would fit him-- I had finally found a use for the pair I had bought the wrong size of at a sale.

Roman's green eyes followed me as I moved a few things around my desk. "You seem nervous," he said, a teasing tone about him. "Or are you just upset you couldn't hop into the shower with me?"

Huffing, I did my best not to laugh; I couldn't let him have this one. "My parents are still trying to wrap their heads around me having a boy over, so I think I'd give them a heart attack if they caught us showering together,"

Roman bit his lip, visibly amused. "I still can't believe I'm the first one," he said, tapping his fingers against my duvet. "You sure you haven't had any other guys in here? You can be honest."

"I am being honest," I leaned my back against the wall, watching him from afar. I was afraid that I'd jump him if I got any closer-- he was ridiculously hot with his fresh-out-of-the-shower look. "I haven't had anyone else up here. Ever. Why is that so hard to believe?"

Roman shrugged; "Cause you're cute?"

I didn't blink, staring back at him with a dumbfounded expression. He said it so nonchalantly, as though I hadn't been fighting for him to tell me his feelings for weeks. Now, it was easy. Easy. With a shy smile, I stepped away from the wall. "Really, now?"

Roman's signature smirk returned as he guided me between his legs, his hands kneading my waist as he looked up at me with his big, wanting eyes. "I'm just glad we're talking again," he murmured, his fingers slowly dipping beneath the edge of my t-shirt. "I've missed your snark."

It was impossible not to smile-- I brought my hands to his face, letting my thumbs brush over his eyebrows; "And I've missed you,"

Roman hummed, his eyes practically sparkling as his fingers continued to ghost over my skin in trying motions. "How badly?"

"Badly," My hands went up into his hair, watching as he keened against my touch. "You and your green eyes."

"My eyes?" It was clear that Roman struggled not to be visibly flustered-- instead, he opted to lift my t-shirt, leaning forward to press an endearing kiss against my tummy. Every touch, every kiss made me feel beyond adored. "What about them?" He pulled away, smirk still apparent. "You think they're pretty or something?"

"You know very well,"

"What? I know nothing,"

"Roman," Laughing, I leaned down to press my lips against his damp hair. "I don't need to spell it out for you."

He shrugged, his fingers rubbing circles into my sides. "Actually, I think you do. Especially after how you tortured me with spelling shit out for you this week,"

Truly, he had a point. I just hated that he was right. "That's different, Rome, that was a completely separate thing!--"

"Oh, just tell me my eyes are pretty, get on with it!"

Taken aback, I watched as Roman did his best to suppress a knowing grin, biting down on his lip as he stared up at me through his brows. Even now, he was painfully handsome-- I nearly melted into my hardwood floors. "Well, now I definitely won't,"

Groaning, Roman seemed to take that as a challenge; in a swift motion, he wrapped his arms around me and tackled me onto the bed. I let out a high-pitched squeak, completely caught off-guard; "You can't just!--"

"Tell me," Roman hooked his arms around my legs after getting in between them, yanking me towards him as he now hovered above me. I could only giggle at the sight of his plotting eyes, realizing my new boyfriend reminded me of the puppy I used to babysit in middle school-- eager to play.

I had to catch my breath after being manhandled like that; "What happened to your manners?"

"Manners?" he echoed, clearly holding back a fit of laughter. "What manners? I was raised in the forest with the wolves, don't you know?"

For fuck's sake-- I nearly lost face. "You can't just toss me around and demand to be praised!"

Roman hummed, the mischievous shimmer in his eyes only growing more bright. "Actually, I think I can toss you around as I please," He leaned down, pressing a wet kiss to my neck. "Or are you planning on fighting me, baby?"

I knew I was done for now. With the nickname, and all. "I could if I wanted to," I was aware that the shake in my voice didn't sound very convincing, and it eventually became glaringly obvious that I shouldn't have said that. I could tell with how Roman smiled against my neck, and the way his arms snaked around me in a tight hold; "I'd like to see you try."

No, no, no-- I wasn't about to have a playfight with a man standing tall at 6'4. There was no way in hell. "Well, I wouldn't want to hurt your ego when you ultimately lose," I mumbled, wrapping my arms around him. "Let's take it when you've had time to prepare."

That was the last straw for Roman, who finally burst out laughing; I followed shortly after. He propped himself up on his elbows, staring down at me with amusement sparkling in his green eyes; "That's very considerate of you," he said, gently nudging my nose with his. "But this means I can toss you around for tonight, then."

I was about to protest, but I suddenly felt tongue-tied-- something about the idea of being moved around like I weighed nothing, like I was his to boss around, did something to me. Something I couldn't put my finger on. "I, uh... Well-- My parents are next door,"

It dawned on Roman that I was right, and he clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth with the realization. "Damn it," he mumbled, humming as he leaned down to kiss me.

I sighed against his lips, the usual satisfaction coursing through my veins-- nothing could ever top this. Subconsciously, I wrapped my legs around him, wanting to pull him as close to me as possible. However, it seemed Roman had other plans; he disconnected our sweet kiss, shortly pressing one more against the corner of my mouth before propping himself up again. "But... you can stay quiet, right?"

My eyes widened just slightly-- I wasn't too keen on showing how nervous I was to hear that. "Depends," I breathed, reaching forward to tuck a few strands of his brown hair away from his forehead. "If you're talking about going all the way, I don't think that's the best idea with my parents on the other side of the wall--"

"No, no," Roman quickly interrupted my ramble, shaking his head. "Just a little... something. To celebrate."

My heart rate quickened as I felt my pulse rise; that could mean literally anything.

"Don't look so scared," Roman purred, pressing a short kiss to my lips-- it was embarrassing how little it took for me to unravel. "I'm not going to bite. I'm almost certain."

"What?" Almost?

Roman only chuckled, his hands now trailing up beneath my shirt again, ghosting over my skin with the touch of a feather. The softness of his fingers nearly left me shuddering, my lips parting at the sensation as I writhed just slightly-- I had to look away from his proud look, realizing my shirt was now bunched up right under my bra, leaving me exposed.

"I hope that being your boyfriend comes with some perks," Roman said, placing his palms against my waist to see how small I was compared to his hands. "Maybe you won't be so shy to let me touch you."

I could only blush-- he wasn't wrong. I still wasn't used to it. I wasn't sure how many times I had swatted his hands away, not yet allowing him to take all the liberties he wanted seeing as we weren't official. But now... everything had changed. Now that I knew where I had him, it felt easier to allow myself the pleasure.

Roman leaned down to kiss up my abdomen, leaving a wet mark behind every touch of his lips against my skin. I held my breath, reaching forward to bury my hands in his hair, feeling my heartbeat pulsing all the way through the tips of my fingers as I grew nervous. I had no idea what plans he had in mind, and whether I wanted him to stop or not.

"I'm surprised you haven't been more aggressive about it," I breathed, finally looking down to meet his wanting, green eyes. "I always expected you to be. You always seemed like the type."

Roman hummed, his fingers tracing the edge of my bra. "I have been, with others," he said, matter-of-factly. "Mostly because I knew they'd let me. Some girls are easy, in that sense."

I couldn't even hold my grimace-- I reached for his hands, holding him back from going any further. "You don't hear yourself, do you?" Propping myself up on my elbows, I tried to scour the thoughts behind his deep eyes, but to no avail. I didn't even care to adjust my t-shirt before I answered him; "It speaks volumes about your view of women."

"My view?" Roman bit his lip, holding back his amusement. "I love women. Where on earth would I be without women?"

I had to hold myself back from kicking him. "I don't think I want to hear this--"

"But most of all, I love girls like you," Leaning down to kiss my shoulder, Roman slid his hands down my thighs and to my knees that were creased over his legs. "But funnily enough, there aren't any girls like you. You're like a singular, vexing entity... and you've got me. You've really got me." His kisses trailed up to my collarbones, and I tilted my head to give him easier access-- I hated how little restraint I had around him, even when he said the most asshole-y things possible.

"You've got me. All of me," Roman murmured, managing to lay me back down on the bed, disarming me in an instant. It was impossible not to let my heart swell at his words, and it only got worse as he continued; "I've never had anyone fight for me like you do. Never met someone worth the challenge. So excuse me for not being aggressively inappropriate with you."

I was so stunned, that I simply stared up at him like a dazzled fool as he slowly pried off my shirt. "Well, you-- you have been inappropriate,"

"Oh, I'm not denying that," Roman's knowing smirk was on display as he wried his shirt off, now crawling back on top of me. I hummed, unable to hold back the sigh that escaped me as I felt his weight back on me, skin to skin. My hands went back up in his hair, making sure it wouldn't hide his beautiful eyes before pulling him in for an open, loving kiss.

There was a certain heat to it that I wasn't used to-- it was perhaps the finality of our union that allowed us to get lost in it. Either that, or Roman didn't care to hold back anymore. I hadn't noticed he was hard until he pressed further up against the apex of my thighs; my breath hitched against our kiss, my grip in his soon-to-be dry hair tightening as the friction between my legs gave me the relief I didn't know I needed.

Roman's lips were always breathtakingly plush against mine, his tongue gently moving in motions that kept me on the brink of clenching my legs around him-- I always felt out of breath after every kiss, especially when we were tangled up like this for longer than what we could be in public. My heart swelled as it beat at his, and I was unable to hold back the hitch of my breath which escaped me as he sunk his teeth into my bottom lip.

Roman pulled away long enough to speak; "So can you?"

I would've answered him quicker, had it not been for the fact that he wouldn't let me detach from the kiss that ensued. Humming, I had to give his hair a harder tug, feeling him sigh in a wave of satisfaction before finally allowing me to disconnect our kiss. "Can I what?" I tried, hoping to catch my breath.

"Keep quiet," Roman nudged my nose with his as his big, green eyes found mine.

"I don't even know what it is that you're planning to do!--"

"You've gotta promise," he said, placing a short kiss against my rambling lips. "I don't want any problems with your parents. It's sort of nice to meet the only people in this town who don't think I'm a scoundrel."

I had to laugh-- it was true. They certainly had no idea about the reputation my new boyfriend had. "Okay, I promise! But what are you--"

I was yanked forward on the bed for the second time tonight; Roman heard a green light, and that was enough for him. I yelped, immediately clasping my hand over my mouth as his eager kisses trailed down my body, his hands now slowly inching toward my zipper.

It all happened so fast-- I nearly bit down on my hand to suppress my nervous trail of noises as Roman discarded my pants with ease. He was almost methodical, planting soft, warm kisses along the inside of my thigh as his fingers trailed up to grab at my waist. He kissed his way up to my center before passing over it, leaving me heaving for air out of sheer excitement-- he now descended over to my other thigh, his green eyes darkening as he looked up to catch my reaction to his teases.

The breath in my chest was a rapid circle, but it caught in my throat as I watched Roman smirk against my skin, taking in the sight of me coming apart as he spoke; "Hold on... Is this turning you on or something?"

I was two seconds away from kicking him. Genuinely. "You're awful," I breathed, burying my face in my hands.

"Really? I usually get quite raving reviews," Roman laughed against my thigh, sinking his teeth into my skin to evoke a noise. That seemed to work-- I let out a squeak before propping myself up on my elbows again, staring down at him with narrowed eyes; "You're already making a mess out of me, do you need to make fun of me too?"

Roman chuckled, pressing an apologetic kiss where he had previously bit me. "Not making fun of you," he murmured, his hold around my waist allowing him to move me even closer to him with a swift motion. Now, his breath was falling hot and heavy right above my clothed sex. "Just trying to get you to talk."

"Talk?" I echoed, watching Roman hook his fingers around my underwear-- I couldn't watch this. I laid back down on the bed with a shaky breath, squirming beneath his grip.

Roman hummed; "Yeah," He licked a wet stripe up the crease of my thigh, slowly, along the hem of my panties, which left me shivering. "We both know how much you're going to enjoy this, anyway. You might as well come out and say it."

He certainly knew how to build anticipation-- his words had nearly distracted me from the moment he dragged my underwear to the side, now leaning forward to press a kiss against my clit. I gasped, once again clasping a hand over my mouth; this was a sensation I could get used to. "Roman--"

As much as he wanted me to talk, I couldn't. Not when he swept his tongue through the wetness of my slit, not when that action had me bucking my hips up against him, not when it all left me breathless. Roman's big, strong hands grabbed me, pinning me down as he laved his tongue up along my cunt with slow, meticulous motions.

This feeling was so foreign-- I really had no idea how to deal with it. I felt my breath catch in my chest, my back arching slightly off the bed as I fought the urge to tremble against him. Even worse, was the fight against making any noise that could give away what we were doing in here. I let out a broken, quiet moan as I reached for Roman's hair, running my fingers through it in a desperate attempt to seek some comfort from the storm of feelings raving through me.

Roman sighed against me, his grip on my hips tightening as he pressed a few gentle, almost sweet, kisses against my clit, which immediately had my breath hitching rather loudly. His eyes returned to watch me, narrowing as a signal; keep it down.

Everything about it made me blush-- I buried my face in my hands, feeling them tremble against my skin. It felt as though my veins were on fire as I fought to keep my breath steady, and I was about to grab a pillow and stuff my face in it before I heard a knock at the door.

My eyes sprung open, immediately reaching down to pull Roman away from me as I panicked. However, my new boyfriend had other plans-- his fingers dug into my flesh, eyes boring into mine with burning embers of challenge as he laved his tongue against my clit with repeating firm licks. Something told me this was beyond exciting to him, and it only made my hips buck up against his mouth. No, no--

Another knock; "Sweetie, we're going to bed! Don't stay up too late, alright?"

"I-- Okay!" I hoped they couldn't hear that I was panting, back arched off the bed as Roman nearly made me see stars.

"Do you need anything in there?"

No, no, no-- what was that even supposed to mean? Something told me my parents were nervous about me having a boy over. I could feel Roman smile against me, clearly amused, as I fought the urge to moan; "N-No, we're good!"

A huge part of me wanted to kill him for putting me through this, but the other part of me was too occupied with the familiar building feeling in my body. When I was sure my parents had stepped away, I reached down to give his hair a proper tug to get his attention; "Rome, you can't just-- you can't do that, are you insane?"

I would later regret saying that-- immediately, actually. With a rather evil look about him, Roman propped himself up on his elbows, staring back at me with a look of dark victory. I whimpered at the loss of contact, squirming in his hold. "You should've seen your face," he purred, suppressing a laugh. "You looked like you were going to cum out of fear."

Honestly, I had no idea what that even meant. Not the faintest, whatsoever. But all my plans of asking him or telling him off were thrown out the window the second I realized his mouth was covered in what I could only guess was me. I watched my slick around his lips glisten as the moonlight shone across his face-- that was certainly a sight I never imagined I'd ever see, and one I wish I could frame and pull up for special occasions.

Roman's eyes lit up, quickly catching onto what had gotten me so dumbstruck. In a show of power, he slowly slid his tongue along his plush lips with a low hum, which in turn nearly made me gasp. A dark laugh followed, a dangerous smirk on display as he spoke the words that would later haunt my dreams; "You taste divine,"

My grip around his hair loosened, feeling as though my breath was slowly seeping out of my lungs with no control whatsoever. It hit me how badly I wanted his mouth back on me again, how much I wanted him to drive me over the edge to get that sense of relief I craved so, so-- "Well... There's more where that came from,"

Roman's lips quirked into a surprised smile, tilting his head to the side as he watched me with a look I could only describe as pride. "Shit, you're learning," he said, a hint of a laugh apparent in his voice.

"That's my girl."

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

Being Roman's girl was certainly not something I ever thought I'd be. I had imagined it, sure, played with the idea in my head, but with the premonition that I would never truly know what that entailed-- I certainly didn't think this would be it.

I should've known Roman wouldn't let this night end.

"Was it truly torture?" I asked, my legs dangling off my roof about an hour later. "The whole ordeal where I wanted you to tell me you liked me."

Roman sat beside me, having insisted that he couldn't sleep without getting a proper hit of nicotine after his stressful day. He exhaled a particularly large ring of smoke, shrugging as though that would lift the weight off his next words; "Felt like it,"

"Why?"

"Dumb question,"

"Just answer it!"

Roman sighed, eyes fixating on the way I dangled my legs. He reached forward with his free hand, grabbing my hips and adjusting me further back on the roof. "You're going to fall off the roof like that," he mumbled, taking another drag. "Try not to die on me, hm?"

I was getting fed up with the way he was evading my question-- I sent him a look, shoulders slumping. "Rome,"

"What? I need you alive," He held out his cigarette in front of me when he was done, and I grimaced as I took it into my hand. He continued with a knowing smirk; "If you fall off the roof, people are going to think I pushed you. Think how my reputation would suffer."

I rolled my eyes; I was definitely not getting anywhere with this question tonight. "Perhaps," I watched the cigarette rest between my fingers as I held it out in front of me-- I still hadn't learned how to smoke, let alone found the will to. "But I bet you could buy your way out of prison, so I don't think you'd suffer much."

"Don't be ridiculous. If you were gone, I'd be suffering all the time," Once more, it was clear that he hadn't yet registered the weight of his words as he longingly stared at his cigarette. "Are you going to have a drag or not?"

I slowly turned to him, blinking twice. "You did not just say that,"

"What? I've waited for a cigarette break all day!--"

"Not that!" This was getting rather frustrating. I huffed, going back to dangling my legs over the edge of the roof. "That you would suffer all the time if I was gone?"

Roman shrugged, gaze now shifting to stare out on the lawn in front of us; "Of course I would. It would be this week, just all over again for eternity,"

"So, just to hear you say it again, it was torture?"

A groan-- "Yeah... It was," His big, green eyes trailed back to me once more, something unfamiliar swimming in them. "I guess you're the first girl I've ever cared for, so imagine my horror when you made it seem like you didn't care about me back."

I was sure this would break my heart all over again. My lips parted in shock, still not used to the fact that Roman was being open with me after all this time. "I never... I never thought you'd doubt that," I had to clear my throat, no longer meeting his eyes. "After how I've been acting around you."

"Acting like what?"

"Like a fool,"

Amused, Roman reached forward and brought the cigarette back between his fingers before he shifted closer to me. "Honestly? I thought it was cute," He noticed my aversion, nudging me gently before taking a drag. "I think it was the fact that you had no idea what you were doing that drew me in. And your scared little face."

I rolled my eyes, nudging him back. "Now that was torture too! The whole part where you were threatening to tell Letha we fucked in that closet during seven minutes of heaven! You should be glad I didn't succumb to a heart attack,"

"Oh, yeah... that," Roman finished his cigarette, stumping it on the hard materials of the roof. "To put it briefly, I didn't know how else to approach you. You both hated my guts and wanted to inhale me."

"Inhale you?!"

With a hearty laugh, Roman wrapped a protective arm around me, leaning down to press a playful kiss against my ear before whispering; "I might just let you if you stay nice,"

I didn't expect my cheeks to burn the way they did-- I was dead sure I was bright red, and I buried my face in his chest to hide it. Roman, still laughing at my embarrassment, kissed the top of my head as he pulled me even closer. "Oh, poor you, am I being mean?"

Huffing, I pouted against his chest; "Yes,"

"Too much for you for one night?"

"... No,"

I didn't need to see him to know Roman was smirking, that mischievous shimmer probably apparent in his eyes. "Good," he murmured. "Because I want to mention one more thing before we go back inside and try not to wake your parents again."

Oh God-- I gathered the courage to look up at him, watching the way his hair lay in soft waves over his forehead. Something told me I should savour the moment before he opened his mouth once more, and I straightened up, watching him follow my every move with intrigue.

I placed a hesitant, delicate kiss against Roman's plush lips, feeling him sigh. I couldn't quite pinpoint why I was still nervous to initiate, why I still wondered if I was doing it all wrong, but I had a feeling I would always be. Especially when it came to Roman. The guy I had wanted for ages, who was currently sitting on my roof, kissing me back.

It hit me that it would probably never dawn on me fully-- how could it?

Roman smiled against my lips, our breaths practically becoming one as we pulled away. I kissed him once more, shortly, before reaching forward to bring his hands into mine. "You were saying?"

His eyes, full of affection, watched as I flipped his hands and traced circles around his palms. "Just... the whole ordeal felt like shit, but that the most painful thing was to see you trying to flirt with that Daniel guy,"

"What?" My brows drew together, puzzled. "What is that supposed to mean?"

Roman chuckled, sighing at the feeling of my soft touch. "It's just obvious that you don't know what you're doing,"

"That's nonsense, I do!"

"Nope,"

"I know how to flirt!"

He shook his head rather matter-of-factly; "Nope,"

This was outrageous-- My movements came to a halt, my eyes narrowing as they met his. "Well, I got you somehow, didn't I?"

"Because I let you," Roman intertwined out fingers, the sight of his smirk nearly becoming unbearable. Why did he have to be so handsome, even whilst making fun of me? "Because I wanted to kiss you so bad, it became my every waking thought. But had it not been for that, I'm not so sure."

I gasped, fighting his grip around my hands; I had never wanted to hit him more than now, despite his confession. "Stop it, I can flirt!"

Roman hummed, sending me a look that told me he wasn't sold. "If I remember correctly, your exact words that first time were could you kiss me, then? I've had a really shitty night," He laughed at the memory, squeezing my hands. "Now, what do you say you try again?"

I was sure I was going to melt into the roof and end up as a blob of goo on my lawn. This was horrifying. My cheeks flushed again, feeling myself get more and more flustered. "Set the scene, then,"

Roman leaned forward, pressing a kiss against my forehead-- it almost felt like a push of encouragement. He pulled away, his thumbs stroking over the healing cuts on the back of my hands. "Okay... Imagine we're back in that closet, and you so desperately want to kiss me again--"

"Rome!--"

"Desperately," he whispered, eyes burning with intrigue and challenge as they bore into mine. "So what do you do?"

I held my breath, watching the amused smirk on display across his plush, pink lips. "What do you mean?"

Roman bit down on his bottom lip, trying not to laugh in my face. "Fine, let's do a different approach. I'll teach you how, instead," His gaze locked onto mine, intense and unwavering. "The key to flirting is to say exactly what's on your mind, along with having a decent enough buildup. Do you catch my drift?"

"... Sure?"

"I'll give you an example," Roman let go of my hands, almost as though to reset the scene. He ran his fingers through his hair, the corners of his mouth curving up into his classic charming smile as his eyes remained sincere. "The first part is simple. Just keep your eyes on me."

Simple was an understatement-- my heart beat harder with every breath, unable to let my mind rest while looking at the show of beauty before me, carved by the Gods. Everything about Roman was simply perfect, and I was afraid I'd turn into stone if I stared at him too long. Despite that, I adhered; I gave in to a nod, unable to dim my growing smile.

"Then..." Roman's fingers ghosted up along the side of my arm, so light it almost tickled. I shivered, my skin reacting to the subtle contact. His fingers trailed down to my hand, and he gently intertwined them with mine, touching me as though I was made of glass-- everything about it made me feel like I was on fire. "Touch. Very, very simple, but very effective. As you see, your breath is already unsteady."

Fuck. I gulped, giving in to a nervous, soft giggle as my gaze started flickering. "Well, you certainly know what you're doing--"

"Eyes on me,"

A very simple oh escaped me, immediately focusing back on Roman despite how ridiculously nervous I was.

He, on the other hand, seemed beyond amused at this point; "And then you say what you want. It's all very simple," Roman toyed with my fingers, running his up along the short length of mine, and the intimacy of it nearly had my breath hitching. After going from not talking at all to this, my brain wasn't as used to his antics anymore-- I so desperately hoped I wouldn't swoon and roll off the roof.

"And that is...?"

Roman shifted, his lips now hovering inches above mine; the tension was thicker than ever, swallowing me whole. The playfulness of his smirk faded, his eyes rounding out as he realized the weight of his words before finally saying them; "I want you to kiss me just like you did a few minutes ago... Kiss me like you could possibly love me,"

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

I never thought that being Roman's girl would bring me such peace. We had been together for a week now, and it felt like the best week of my life; a big part of me was sure it actually was.

My fall-out with Letha started to feel worth it-- if she couldn't accept that I was happy with Roman despite him being her cousin, then that was her loss. Why shouldn't friends be happy for each other?

Because honestly, I couldn't remember the last time I had been this happy. Especially now that I was sitting in the passenger seat of Roman's car on a lazy Sunday, the wind blowing through my hair as he bickered with Peter about the songs playing on the stereo. I could only laugh, a bright smile on my face as I kicked back, adjusting my sunglasses as the bright rays of the day shone down on us.

"This song sucks," Roman grumbled, clearly regretting giving his best friend Bluetooth access to the stereo. "Since when were you so into Britney Spears? Do you have nothing else you can play?"

Splaying out in the backseat, practically lying down, Peter crossed his arms behind his head as he chuckled; "Maybe I like that you don't like it? And you're a psycho if you don't enjoy this one, it's hit me baby one more time! Put some respect on the name,"

"Dude, you sound like a thirteen-year-old girl,"

"A thirteen-year-old with taste, at least!"

I couldn't help but laugh-- the one thing I had learned about Roman, was that the gang of boys he usually hung out with had nothing on his friendship with Peter. Something about the way they were annoying each other showed me all I needed to know. My gaze went back and forth between them, grinning from ear to ear. I could get used to this.

Roman rolled his eyes, switching lanes with ease. He was damn handsome behind the steering wheel, tapping his fingers along with the rhythm of the tune despite being vocal about his disdain-- the upturn of his nose, the way he quietly chewed his gum with no care in the world, everything about the sight of him and his styled brown hair made me feel beyond lucky to have his attention, even for a moment. So, when he placed his hand on my thigh, I had to bite down on my lip and look away; it was all too exhilarating.

"Could I pick the next song?" I asked, turning to Peter. I noticed he had already closed his eyes, basking in the sun as he nodded and handed me his phone.

Something told me Roman was relieved to be saved from Britney Spears-- he squeezed my thigh twice, making me giggle as I scrolled through Peter's playlist. When I finally found the perfect song, I tried to hide my smile in the palm of my hand as I held back any signs of my brewing laughter.

The second the new song sounded through the stereo, it became impossible to hold back my evil joy as Roman let out the loudest groan I'd ever heard from him; "For fuck's sake!"

I succumbed to my laugh, hearing Peter roaring from the backseat at my song of choice. I turned to him, accepting his high-five. There was no way in hell I'd give anything up for the look on Roman's face right now— the way he rolled his eyes, sending me a quick, sharp glare; "Traitor,"

"I like Britney!" I tapped my fingers against the hand he had on my thigh, humming along to the music. "And oops, I did it again is a classic!"

Roman shook his head; "The both of you are awful,"

"We're not!" Peter protested, sitting up in his seat. "We just have superior music taste. And also, when are you going to pull over?"

"Never. Pee your pants, dipshit,"

"Yeah? I will hold your girlfriend hostage and key your car if you don't find a gas station in five minutes,"

Groaning once more, Roman rolled his eyes and switched lanes, ready to get off the highway. "You keep her out of this," He glanced at me, the spark in his green eyes unmistakable, before meeting Peter's gaze in the rearview mirror. "And you better stay away from my fucking car, I just got it repainted!"

Oh, it was impossible not to smile. Impossible. Even despite the two of them getting on my nerves, I couldn't deny that Roman was making up for my lack of friends by surrounding me with people. I wasn't sure whether he meant to or not, if it was subconscious, but I felt taken care of, even in odd company.

Roman cared for me. He was taking care of me.

... In his own weird way, of course.

When we finally arrived at the nearest gas station, Roman's car still intact and I not held hostage, it didn't take long before Peter jumped out of the back and headed inside, giving us a moment alone.

I watched Roman fix his hair in the car mirror, and I wasn't sure whether he realized he was still humming hit me baby one more time. With a bright smile on my face, I reached out for his hand, giving it a short squeeze to get his attention. "I'm gonna run inside and get some water, do you want anything? Juice, a soda?"

My breath nearly got knocked out of me as Roman's eyes met mine, the green in his eyes more intense now than ever as the sun laid itself in soft strokes over his face. "Maybe a beer?"

"Rome, you're driving!"

"Oh, cry me a river," Roman leaned over to press a short, soft kiss against my lips. "Get me a cola or something, then."

I hummed, a faint blush apparent on my cheeks. Why did every kiss, every touch, get me so giddy? Still, I tried to keep my composure-- "Could you at least say please?"

Shaking his head, Roman reached for his wallet; "Nope. But I'll pay,"

"Just say it nicely, that's all I ask of you!"

He handed me his card, sending me a look which said don't argue. "You know the code,"

"I-- Ugh, just say it!"

"What do I get for it?"

Calculated fucker. "Fine, I'll blow you later!"

He grinned-- "There you go," Roman took my hand into his, pressing a kiss against my knuckles. Something told me he was simply hiding his look of victory. "Please get me a coke, and get yourself anything you'd like. Alright?"

"Alright," Despite my mind racing from the fact that I didn't know how to do what I had just promised him, I leaned over and gave Roman a sweet kiss on his cheek before I got out of the car. As I made my way to the gas station, I turned around just at the right time-- I caught the moment he tried to wipe the smile off his face with no success, clearly flustered as he failed to keep his composure.

It felt as though my hair was burning after being in the heat for this long, and I was happy to escape the sun when I entered the building. The cold breeze of the air-conditioner hit me, making me sigh in relief as I strolled along the endless aisles, looking for the perfect treat for the rest of my drive.

My head was still buzzing from the rush of being with Roman like this. The way he smiled at me, the way he leaned one arm out the window as he drove his red Jaguar down the highway-- it was perfectly picturesque. So as I reached for a chocolate bar with a wide grin on my face, I didn't expect it to get wiped away within the drop of a second.

On the other side of the aisle, a familiar pair of green eyes stared right back at me with a fright I hadn't seen in them before. Letha seemed to be holding her breath, waiting for me to speak, but instead, I froze with my hand still lingering on the chocolate-- we both stood still for so long, I was afraid the heat of my palm would melt the bar.

Letha's gaze moved from mine and down to my hands; I watched her eyes round out at the sight of the cuts on the back of my hands, the ones caused by her new best friend Jasmine. "Your hands," she breathed, clearly taken aback. I remembered overhearing Letha's conversation with Roman, where it had been unveiled that she had no idea I had been injured at all. Suddenly, all I could remember was the hurt in her voice as she continued; "I didn't think they would be so... gosh, I hoped Roman was exaggerating."

In the midst of my shock, I snapped out of it as a wave of anger washed over me. I was standing face to face with the girl who had made my life a living hell at school, and I no longer felt anything else than pure resentment. In a flash of confidence, I grabbed the chocolate bar and walked off without saying a word, not feeling the need to respond.

I should've known that wouldn't be the end-- "Hey, wait!" Letha followed on the other side of the aisle, her worried eyes never leaving me. "We need to talk, I can't do this anymore!"

As I reached the end of the candy aisle, our lanes intertwined. Groaning, I turned on my heel and started my march toward the beverages, hoping to shake her off. "I can spare you the hassle and tell you I have about three visible hickeys. Kindly throw up outside," In an attempt to keep calm, I started scouring the selection of drinks.

Letha quickly caught up to me, putting her hand over mine as I reached for the door to the beverages. "I don't care," she tried, eyes more sincere than ever. "I want you to know how sorry I am about you getting hurt. I never wanted it to go this far."

In an act of defiance, I wried my hand out of hers. "Fuck you," I sneered, forcing the fridge door open. "Sure, I got physically hurt, but I've been hurting for more than a month without you giving as much as a shit about it!" Reaching for a cola and a bottle of water, I turned to meet Letha's gaze. "Instead of shutting me out, you could've listened to me like you promised to when I told you about everything with Roman. Instead, you isolated me, made me a target, and now you expect me to want to talk to you?"

Letha's eyes were swimming in tears at this point, freezing to her spot. "I never wanted this for any of us! I'm so sorry!" She did her best to collect herself, but her voice was on the brink of breaking; "I never wanted to lose you in all of this, I miss my best friend! Do you not miss me too?"

I was ready to turn around and leave, but I stopped in my tracks. What?

... She missed me? And she was apologizing?

Just as I was about to answer, I felt a familiar presence come up behind me. Judging by the sound of the heavy boots, I pieced together that it was Peter. "Letha?" He seemed caught off guard by her presence, but his hands still reached for the items I was holding, indicating that we should get going.

Something about this was off-- my eyes darted back and forth between them, watching Letha's pupils dilate in what I could only guess was shock; what else could it be? "Peter? What are you--"

"Road trip," he said, tone stern as he cut her off. Peter grabbed my shoulders, now ushering me out of the way and towards the cashier.

I became a rambling mess, uttering a few incohesive words as I looked back at Letha. What had just happened? Peter's grip on my shoulders was the only thing stabilizing me as I somehow managed to pay and get out of the gas station. He opened the door to the passenger seat, sitting me down as he rolled his eyes at the sight of his best friend fixing his hair in the rearview mirror.

My guess was that I looked shell-shocked, because Roman immediately looked quite concerned as he exchanged a look with Peter. He reached forward, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. "Are you having a heat stroke? Why do you look so fried?"

Peter answered for me, plopping himself down in the back seat; "Letha," he mumbled, putting on his seatbelt. "She was in there. Didn't catch the convo, but your girls seemed to be going at each other's throats."

With a groan, Roman ran his hand down to grab mine, intertwining our fingers. "What did she say?" he asked me, giving my digits a small squeeze.

I shook my head; "Nothing. Let's just get out of here,"

I didn't want to tell him how hard it hit me to hear that Letha missed me and that she was finally apologizing. That it was churning my heart, grinding all the molecules of my anger down into a single river of sadness. What made everything worse, was the look on Roman's face; something told me that he knew, and that he most certainly didn't want to get into a push-and-pull situation with Letha. Who would win in that situation?

I was relieved when he finally started the car-- I hoped not to think about this for the remainder of the day.

... Was there actually hope for reconciliaton? I wasn't sure whether I was ready for that or not, but it was still killing me.

Killing me.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

After dropping Peter off at his place, Roman parked somewhere along my dimly lit street as the moonlight shone down on us, not yet wanting me to leave. He glanced over at me, watching me picking at my nails in nervous habit as my mind raced; even after a long day of fun, I couldn't forget my encounter with Letha. The look in her eyes, the fact that she wanted to finally bury the hatchet-- no, it was impossible to shake that.

Roman shifted, not giving away his true feelings about the ordeal as he scanned the way I shut down. It was clear that he was thinking rather hard about what to say next, clearly not wanting to say the wrong thing. However, something told me he was annoyed as he spoke; "Is it not enough for you?"

My brows drew together in confusion, meeting his gaze. "What are you talking about?"

Roman shrugged; "Us. This,"

"What?" I sat up in my seat, eyes widening. This was certainly not a conversation I thought we would be having a week into our relationship. "I'm confused--"

"If you're so easily swayed by Letha, it can't be enough. Right?" Roman's gaze hardened, and it didn't take long before I recognized this was a pattern-- the second he felt his position was threatened, he simply got angry. "I'm trying not to be pushy about sex, I'm being open about my feelings or whatever, but you want to run right back to her!"

I blinked twice, baffled. "I'm not sure I want to, but what does it matter to you?--"

"You really think she'd be okay with us being together if you become friends again?" Roman's grip on the steering wheel tightened as his jaw clenched, clearly bothered by his next thoughts; "She'd make you choose."

My heart hurt-- I didn't expect him to make such conclusions. Still, I gathered my thoughts, realizing I was witnessing one of his fits of panic that he didn't know how to put into words; "Okay, you know what? You taught me a little something a week ago, and now I'm going to see if it works. Look at me, please,"

Roman didn't budge; instead, his grip around the steering wheel tightened, and I saw he was holding his breath.

"Rome?"

A hum.

"Look at me,"

Reluctantly, he finally did. His chest rose and fell in sharp moves, clearly trying to collect himself and his impending outburst of anger. Like this, Roman was more handsome than ever-- something about how dark he got weirdly made my head buzz.

Still, I knew I had two more steps to go; I reached out to brush the strand of hair lying over his forehead, stroking my fingers through his dark locks in an attempt to bring him back down to earth. Roman's jaw remained clenched as he met my eyes, still not letting his guard down despite his pupils widening at the sight of me.

I ran my hand down his face, stroking my thumb across his cheek as I watched him keen against my palm. It seemed to be calming him down, and I let out a long sigh of relief to see it working.

Now, to the last part-- "Then I just have to say what I want, right?"

Roman seemed to catch onto what I was doing as he gave in to a small nod. The usual shimmer in his eyes returned, intrigue brewing in his green gaze; "That's how it usually goes, yeah,"

I did my best not to laugh-- something about the way he held his breath, waiting for my next words, was so ridiculously cute. Roman Godfrey, the man of the hour, the menace, my hallway crush for as long as I could remember, was nervous. A puddle of anxiety in my hands.

And he had no idea.

"You think I went through all this shit just to throw you away?" My fingers gently trailed over his softening face, watching his every move. The weight of my next words was something I felt leave my chest the second I finally spelled them out; "You've got me, Roman. All of me. Nothing Letha ever does or says will change that, and she knows that. You have nothing to be nervous about, seriously."

What ensued caught me off guard like never before-- I didn't expect Roman to lean forward and kiss me the way he did, with passion that nearly took my breath away. The usual warmth swelled in my chest as his plush lips pressed against mine, and a mix of the night air and his touch made me shiver beneath the moonlight. It started out light; his hand trailed up from my neck, twisting into the nape of my neck, bringing me closer with a burning need I didn't see in him very often.

Then it hit me that I hadn't ever put much thought into how hard it was to make out in a car. However, Roman was a man of many solutions-- I let in a shaky breath as our lips disconnected, but it was quickly knocked out again when his arms wrapped around me and lifted me out of my seat. I let out a loud squeak, instinctively clinging onto Roman as he somehow managed to sit me on top of him in the driver's seat, laughing against the kiss he pulled me into.

My heart was racing, arms still draped around him in a protective hold as he pushed back the steering wheel as much as he could, downright giggling against my lips. I had never kissed someone while having a laughing fit, but as I joined in on Roman's, I realized how much of a high it was.

"Your face," he laughed in between playful nips, hands trailing down to grab my waist.

I rolled my eyes, grabbing a fistful of his hair to pull him away and get a proper look at him as he grinned up at me. Had it been up to me, I would've frozen this moment and kept it tucked away in my freezer, knowing it would never melt away there. Roman's eyes were illuminated by a nearby lamp, the orange hues mixing in with his green, making them a yellow-y brown; almost the same colour as his hair which was soft to the touch today, and not gelled up like usual. The way he looked at me with joy, the ultimate show of affection, nearly made me gelatin in his arms.

Oh, and the laugh-- the fucking laugh. The gorgeous, deep laugh, which would definitely etch itself into my mind, ready to be replayed on bad days.

I got my hands out of his hair, cupping his face as I cocked a brow; "Yeah, what about my face?"

Roman sighed, his signature smirk on display. I expected him to say something either dirty or stupid like the usual, but instead, he opted to take my breath away once more with the following-- he went quiet, eyes rounding out as he took the time to scan my every feature, every movement, as though I was a beautiful, rare diamond; "It's gorgeous,"

My lips parted, staring back at him with a dumbfounded expression. I was ready to say something, pull myself together, until I realized I didn't have to anymore-- Roman was my boyfriend.

Roman was my boyfriend.

I didn't have to pull myself together. I could go absolutely mad, if I wanted to.

... And somehow, I found myself wanting to drive myself to complete and utter madness.

I had no idea what came over me when I placed my hands on each side of his face, slowly driving them up into his hair as I pressed my lips against him in an open, desperate kiss. Roman hummed (was that a moan?), his hands trailing down into my back pockets as he pressed me further up against him, none of us giving a damn about the fact that we were parked on a street and that anyone could walk by at any moment despite how deserted the neighborhood was so late at night.

It took a turn as Roman sunk his teeth into my bottom lip, eliciting a small whimper. The fingers I had in his hair tightened around his dark locks as a need for friction built between my legs, and when Roman drew my hips forward to meet his, I didn't fight-- instead, I was quite sure I moaned.

My cheeks burned with the realization, but I didn't have much time to think about it. I was drawn further into a state of arousal as he got his hands out of my pockets, his big hands grabbing my ass properly as his hips bucked up to meet mine through our clothes.

Fuck, fuck, fuck-- my brain was in such a state of overdrive, I didn't think twice before lightly sucking down on the tip of Roman's tongue, feeling him let out a shaky breath against me.

The gentle breeze of the night poked at my clouded mind, reminding me of where we were, that I had a curfew to get to. I disconnected our lips, hearing Roman sigh; "We shouldn't," I tried, shifting as I pulled my jacket over my shoulder-- it was in this moment that I realized that he was hard. My heart fluttered with delight as I realized I could feel his cock swell with growing interest, feel him keen against me, separated by just a few layers-- my eyes widened, meeting his. Something told me it was a little too late to back down now.

Roman hummed, his breathing slowing down as he grinned up at me; "Yeah, you might be right... But why do the right thing when you can do the fun thing?" His fingers reached for my jacket, almost taking it off again. When my skin was exposed once more, he leaned forward, gently pressing his lips against my collarbones.

I was going to push him away, remind him of our surroundings-- but as I felt Roman swipe his tongue along my skin with every kiss, I couldn't. Every touch, every kiss, made the buzzing in my mind louder.

My breath hitched, fingers running back up into his hair as his kisses trailed further down my skin. It felt as though my hands were on fire, arousal burning through my veins as my heart thumped loudly in my chest. I wanted him so bad, I didn't think twice before I rolled my hips down against his hard cock, hearing Roman let out a grunt before he finally took the liberties to force a repetition of my actions with his hands on my ass.

This was bad; so, so bad. I knew I was done for when I shifted, the pressure against my clit only dulling my mind further. The slight tremble that appeared in my knees made me reach for the seat, no longer feeling steady; "Rome," I tried, feeling my desperation grow as his hungry kisses trailed down my shirt.

"Shh... Just a little more," Roman's hands pressed against my back, pulling me flush against him. I nearly let out a whine as I realized he was dangerously close to the hem of my bra, and I had to take a quick look around the area to make sure no one was seeing this. "Roman--"

"You have no idea how long I've thought about having you like this," he said, voice low as his hands slowly moved up my body. "You were always so against the idea of fucking in my car... Makes me want to show you how good it could be."

I felt my face redden, burning with a mix of shock and intrigue. In fact, I was so out of it that I barely registered the moment Roman's hand reached for my bra, pulling one cup to the side to grab a handful of my chest--

Squeaking in shock, I didn't have time to push him off before he leaned forward, licking a wet stripe up my hardening bud. My face was practically on fire, squirming in his grip as a shaky moan escaped my lips.

"You're so pretty," he breathed, eyes meeting mine to keep my gaze locked on him as he placed an open-mouthed kiss against my breast. My breath hitched, not yet used to this feeling-- it felt as though I was getting electrocuted all the way down to my clit with every flick of his tongue.

This was definitely the most risky thing I had ever done in my life. I never thought I would be doing anything like this on an open street and that I wouldn't be fighting it. Nonetheless, I let out a broken moan as my hands went up into his hair, my fingers twisting further into Roman's dark locks as his lips wrapped around me once more, sucking me in between his lips.

As the tremble in my legs worsened, I pulled him away from me, watching as his half-lidded green eyes shimmered with lust. "Christ," I breathed, quickly pulling my top back into place. "I'm no better than your cheerleader whores, at this point."

Roman clearly didn't expect me to say that, laughing as his hands now rested on my hips. "I haven't even done anything yet," he cooed, tracing circles into my jeans. "But actually, this reminds me there was one thing you told me you'd do..."

My eyes widened as he reached forward to clasp his fingers around my wrists. Of all the things I thought he'd do, this was certainly not it-- I felt my breath hitch once more as Roman pressed my trembling hands against his clothed, hard cock.

Oh God. "Not here!" I tried, hoping to slow down the beating of my heart. "I can't-- Fuck, Rome, I wouldn't even know what to do!"

Roman bit his lip, mostly to not laugh right in my face. The amusement in his eyes told me all I needed to know; "You think I haven't taken that into account? I know you haven't done this before,"

"And you're still up for it...?"

Roman's eyes widened, looking rather bewildered. "Are you kidding me? I'd be up for it during a fucking terrorist attack, believe me,"

That was not an image I wanted to have in my head. Oh, Roman and his antics-- "Shut up," I mumbled, feeling myself grow more anxious. Anyone could walk by right now, and my parents were definitely wondering where on earth I was.

"You shut up,"

I gasped, my eyes narrowing at the sight of Roman's grin; "Hah! Make me,"

"Sure," he said, shrugging. "You might moan a little, though."

I was tempted to freeze up until a reflex I didn't know I had kicked in-- shifting, I put my hand on his thigh to support myself as the one he had put over his hard-on reached for his zipper. "Don't fuck with me, Godfrey. I might just retaliate,"

I watched all the air in Roman's lungs seep out through his mouth as his green eyes burned into mine, a look of surprise streaking across his face which quickly morphed into intrigue. "Shit," he breathed. "I've broken you already, haven't I? Who are you, and what have you done to my girl?"

I couldn't help but smile-- this was something I could certainly get used to. "Breaking me is going to take a lot more, don't you worry,"

"Really, now?" Shifting, Roman's face was mere inches away from mine. The night air flowed through his hair in a soft breeze, his parted lips looking more enticing than ever-- I longed for them to be kiss-swollen once more. He gently nudged his nose against mine, hovering to drag out the tension as I held my breath in anticipation for his next words; "I'm dying to put that to the test... Can't wait to see you all pretty and broken, whimpering while I fuck you."

I hadn't been so flustered in my life-- I struggled to catch my breath, succumbing to a nervous laugh. Roman was so damn intense, I didn't know how to recover. To put the cherry on top, I had subconsciously tightened my grip around his clothed hard-on, and I heard him let out a shaky breath against me.

I couldn't look at Roman for too long-- I was afraid I'd melt. The green in his eyes swallowed me, drawing me in, enticing me to say yes, but I knew I couldn't. Not right now, at least. Instead, I forced myself to remember that we were on an open street once again, and that I really needed to get home soon.

It was too early for all of that, anyway.

"Oh, you and your dirty mouth," I breathed, leaning forward to press a short kiss against his keening lips. My hands lifted off him, resting at his shoulders. "For someone that insists they're not pushy about sex, you sure talk a lot about it."

Roman sighed, catching onto the fact that I was ready to leave. "I said I'm trying. But I'm open to the possibility that I might be failing," His grip on my hips tightened, pulling me closer with a pout. "Don't leave just yet. Stay."

If it had been up to me, I would've stayed in this moment forever. "My parents are going to kill me," I said, pressing another kiss against his lips, feeling him smile against me. "We have school tomorrow, anyway--"

"Stay," Roman's arms wrapped around me in a strong hold, engulfing me in his seductive cologne. "Just kiss me a little more, and I might consider letting you go in about three hours or so."

I rolled my eyes, giggling against him. "Come on, you're not making it easy for me here!--"

"Exactly,"

"Rome, I--" As my phone rang in my jacket on the passenger seat, I let out a sigh of relief; "Okay, that's definitely my parents calling. I'm about to be grilled like a turkey at Thanksgiving, thank you very much!"

Roman huffed as I placed a kiss against his forehead, letting go of me with a disappointed snort before he leaned over, handing me my phone.

I did my best not to get too swept up in his puppy eyes, knowing I was two seconds away from staying in the car with him all night. However, I knew it would definitely not end well for my sanity. So as I turned my phone around, ready to answer my parents and start explaining why I was so late, I froze when I saw who the actual caller was.

Roman's demeanour immediately changed-- something told me he already knew. Still, he asked; "Who is it?"

Fuck.

Fuck, fuck fuck!

"... It's Letha,"

Chapter 7: all yours

Summary:

Why did Letha call?-- Actually, the better question is, will Roman let you find out why?

Notes:

hey hey!! I had a dream recently where I called Roman “Romy” which was super odd to me, but then I realized where I got it from… I had watched a movie with the wonderfully beautiful actress Romy Schneider the other night, so there are a few references to her this chapter!! enjoy!!!!<333

Chapter Text

I stared at the missed call from Letha, the glow of the screen illuminating my face as I hid beneath my duvet. Frozen in a fetal position, I listened to the sound of my heartbeat as my thumb inched toward her name.

It was late-- too late to be awake, and too early to make a decision. The silence of my bedroom wrapped around me as my brows drew together in conflict, my head buzzing incessantly. It felt wrong to contemplate calling Letha back, especially as the cinnamon flavour of Roman's cigarettes lingered on my tongue. If I focused, I could still feel the push of his lips against my neck, and the pressure of his strong arms against my waist. It all made me shiver-- I wasn't sure what it would mean for my relationship with Roman if I called Letha back. How could I guarantee it wouldn't all blow up in my face?

I groaned, hopefully not loud enough to wake my parents, before I scrolled away from Letha's name. I needed a reminder of why I had thrown my friendship with her away, why I had messed it all up in the first place-- I had to drown out the memory of Letha's laugh somehow.

So, I pressed my phone up against my ear, placing a hand over my heart to feel it thud against my palm while I waited. The beating of my blood quickened when I realized my call was getting answered despite the lateness of the hour;

"Hey, you,"

Oh, I nearly melted at the sound of his voice. "Rome," I echoed, giving into a soft smile.

I heard the shifting of bedsheets in the background; "Miss me already?"

"Yeah..."

"I left, like, two hours ago,"

"So? I can hear you smiling over there,"

Roman's warm chuckle sounded through the other end of the phone, and I imagined him shaking his head. "Say it again,"

It was impossible not to stir-- I couldn't lay still when his voice was so deep and tired. "I miss you," I peeked my head up from the duvet, as it was getting damn warm beneath my covers. "I'm sorry for calling so late, I just... needed to clear my head."

He hummed, stretching; "It's alright, I wasn't sleeping,"

"What were you doing then?"

There was a rather pregnant pause. "... None of your business,"

"Oh?" I propped myself up on my elbows, intrigued. "Roman, are you?--"

"What did you need to clear your head about?"

I realized I wasn't getting anywhere with this, and that I quickly needed to stop thinking about my boyfriend spread out on his bed, wearing nothing but his boxers, slowly palming himself through the fabric-- no, I needed to get my mind out of the gutter. "We didn't get a lot of time to discuss the fact that Letha called,"

"Okay... Do you plan on calling her back?"

My heart only beat harder against my palm, and I had to swallow hard as I laid back down on the bed; "Would you be mad if I did?" The silence that ensued made my hands clammy-- I ended up wiping them on my duvet as I waited for his answer, holding my breath.

"Maybe?" Roman sighed, and I heard him tossing around in his bed. "I don't know what this feeling is, but... I just know it makes my chest burn. Doesn't feel good."

Something about his cluelessness made me want to grab his pretty face and pepper it with kisses. "Could be anxiety?"

"Nah, I don't have that shit,"

"Oh, Roman, everyone gets a little anxious sometimes!--"

"Stop rolling your eyes, I can hear it,"

Shocked, my heart nearly stopped-- he was right. I had rolled my eyes, and it freaked me out that he knew . "Fine... I won't call her back, then,"

"Alright,"

"You don't have to worry,"

"Alright,"

"Uh, do you have anything else to say other than alright?--"

"No,"

"... Alright," My brows drew together in confusion, wondering why Roman was retreating into his shell of emotional neglect. It was clear to me that the subject of Letha made him deeply uneasy, that he was probably worried she'd need me to break up with him for us to be friends again, but I tried to find comfort in the fact that he was scared to lose me... despite not being able to say that out loud.

Still, Roman always managed to surprise me-- I heard him sigh once more at the other end of the phone, but this time, in a sulky manner. "Could you say it again?"

"Say what?"

"What you said in the car," I could hear the embarrassment in his voice, knowing he didn't usually make requests like these; "That you're mine."

My eyes widened just a smidge, staring up at my ceiling with a bewildered look on my face. The tone of his voice made my stomach flip, wondering why my brain went haywire for the needy sound of his request. I did my best not to squeal and kick my feet like a little girl-- "All yours, Rome,"

A hum; "All mine?"

"All yours," My smile spread wider than ever before, joy blossoming in my chest. "Only yours."

He let out a shaky breath-- "Shit... don't say it like that,"

"Like what?"

"Like that," Roman shifted around in his bed, and I heard him kicking away his duvet. "I was already horny before you called, don't make it worse."

I was afraid my eyes would pop out of my skull as my air caught in my throat. So he had been doing what I thought he'd been doing? "You were the one who asked me to say it," I tried, feeling the adrenaline pumping through my body. This was definitely not going to help me sleep. "Why were you even doing that right now? It's so late!"

Roman only laughed-- "That call from Letha fucking cockblocked me in the car, what do you expect?"

"Christ," I mumbled, shaking my head as I pressed my palm against my forehead. Something about this was too damn thrilling. "So you're still... y'know?"

"Yep,"

"And... you're doing it right now?"

Another laugh ensued, deeper this time."Nah, I'm not that creepy. Just waiting for it to go down now... which is why you can't tell me you're mine with that sexy little voice of yours,"

Gosh, how that took my breath away. And even worse, was the maelstrom of ideas churning in my head about ways to milk this situation-- I really hoped my parents were asleep for this one. "Roman?"

"Yeah, baby?"

"I'm all yours,"

As expected, Roman groaned on the other end of the line. "Is that a green light?" he breathed. "Don't fuck with me right now, my brain doesn't work properly when you're involved."

I hadn't blushed like this in ages-- "I'm here if you want to go for it," Never in a million years did I think I would be having phone sex, especially not with Roman Godfrey. If someone had told me a month ago that this would be happening, I would've fainted on the spot.

Roman's laugh was deep, warm; I pressed the phone against my cheek as my hands trembled in excitement. "Go for it," he echoed, a mocking tone about it. "I'm not doing this shit alone!"

"Oh?"

"Not a fat chance in hell, baby. What are you wearing?"

My brows drew together as I realized what he was up to. Nervous, I lifted my duvet to check. My mind was so clouded by the thrill that I had genuinely forgotten what I was wearing. "Uh... A big t-shirt and my underwear?"

A hum. "What colour?"

"The t-shirt?" I wasn't sure why that mattered.

Another laugh from Roman ensued-- this was probably the moment it dawned on him that I hadn't done this before either. "Fuck it, we'll skip this part," he murmured. "The panties, babe. Take them off."

I let out a soft, nervous laugh, my trembling hands scurrying to take them off. As I laid my head back on my pillow, discarding my underwear somewhere along the bed, I pressed my phone back up to my ear just at the right moment-- I heard Roman's short, ragged breath, presumably resuming his activities. "Ugh, I miss having my mouth on you," he breathed, shifting around. "I've told you how good you taste, right?"

"Yeah, you have," His words made me want to squeal and throw my phone across the room, my brain going haywire. "I don't get it, but I'm not complaining. I like having you between my legs."

"Good. I'm planning to be there quite a lot,"

I squeezed my thighs together-- this was making me aroused a lot quicker than I was willing to admit. Still, I decided to be bold; "Too bad we were interrupted today... Was looking forward to having my mouth on you as well,"

"Right... As if you'd do that in my car on that open street,"

"There was no one there!" I rolled my eyes at the sound of Roman's laugh. "What I'm trying to say is that I'd like to try one day."

"Yeah?" His voice was deeper now, raw-- "You'd want me to teach you how?"

I could only imagine the sight of him now; the way he closed his eyes, his hand wrapped around his hard cock as he worked his fingers around his shaft. I nearly lost my breath just thinking about it, and suddenly my mind was throwing me images of how it would be to wrap my mouth around it. How Roman would hold my hair, slowly buck up into my mouth with a soft grunt, telling me how good I was doing, how nice it felt-- I had a hard time snapping out of it. "Would love for you to teach me everything,"

"Fuck, baby," I could hear the shaky motions of his breath, the way it was on the brink of hitching. "Gonna take my time, teach you all I know... Don't you worry."

"You will?"

"You bet," Roman's voice was now barely a whisper against the phone, his words catching in his chest. "Gonna teach you how to take my cock, I know you'll do so well... So, so well, just like everything else you do."

That was it-- I reached between my legs, closing my eyes as I placed my fingers against my clit. It was impossible to stay away now. "You'll take care of me, won't you? Go slow?"

"Of course I will-- hah,"

My breath grew unsteady; "Shit, Rome, you've got me wet in record time," I dipped my fingers a little further down, feeling my arousal pooling between my legs.

"Yeah? Well, I'm damn hard for you," he breathed, a soft, quiet moan following. "Wanna sink into you, feel your tight little pussy around me..."

Had I not been so out of it, I would've called him out for being vulgar. Roman hadn't been this dirty before. My cheeks were downright burning.

"Wanna fuck you so good, you'll never leave. You'll just keep coming back, letting me make you cum over and over..."

I was squirming at this point-- oh, what I would give for Roman to be here with me right now. Have him wrap his arm around me, rub my clit for me, whispering all these dirty things into my ear instead of through the phone. "I won't leave, Rome,"

That seemed to be the most compelling thing I could've said. I could almost hear the way he threw his head back against his pillow, a small, wanton moan escaping his lips; "You're all mine, baby... Only mine, aren't you?"

Who would've thought this was the thing that would break Roman Godfrey?

"All yours,"

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

I was rather anxious to see Roman the next day at school-- I didn't know how to deal with all the dirty stuff we talked about on the phone last night. How was I supposed to look him in the eyes, knowing he thought about me like that? I wasn't complaining, but it was incredibly foreign.

We hadn't talked much today, other than the usual good morning text, and I dreaded answering the text he sent me right afterward;

romy schneider: did you sleep well?;)

I was aware that it sounded innocent, but it was impossible not to hear Roman's voice while reading it. All breathy, the signature smirk on display, roping me in with one hand on my waist as he whispered it into my ear... No, I couldn't answer it. Just thinking about it made me blush.

I had made it to second period without seeing any members of the Godfrey family, all until I had to cross the campus to get to my next class. There he was, not too far away from the football field, leaning against a lamp post as he lit his cigarette.

Roman hadn't noticed me yet, and a part of me hoped he wouldn't just yet. I wanted to take my time, watch the way his hair fell over his forehead in gentle motions as he lowered his head towards the lighter, the way his lips wrapped around the cigarette, and the way his beautiful green eyes suddenly darted up and landed right on me--

I nearly squeaked, stopping in my tracks as my breath caught in my throat. Even worse, was the cough that choked itself out of me. I hadn't expected him to notice me staring, not when I was this far away. My hands trembled as I tried to pull myself together, catching a glimpse of Roman's classic smirk as his cigarette lay comfortably between his lips. His eyes darkened, a mischievous shimmer in his gaze as he motioned for me to come over.

I was a mess by the time I reached him, and I tried to rub my clammy hands off my shirt in a way that wouldn't give away my stress. Still, I had an inkling he knew, and I only made it worse for myself when I opened my mouth; "Hey, dude,"

Immediately, it felt like my brain was on fire-- what was that? Stupid, stupid!

Roman seemed taken aback by that as well, amusement dancing in his eyes. "Since when do you call me dude?" He stifled a chuckle, taking a long drag of his cigarette; "I know about Romy Schneider, but this is new."

I only called him Romy Schneider to tease him on days he was exceptionally pretty (which could technically be any day), but dude? Now, it was downright obvious how nervous I was. "I-- Okay, just forget I said that," Kicking away a nearby rock, I lowered my gaze, no longer able to meet his. Roman's face was enough to unravel me, especially after what had been said last night.

Still, he laughed, blowing out a simple ring of smoke. "You're nervous,"

"Am not!"

"Fine. Look at me, then,"

Clenching my jaw, I adhered. My lashes fell heavy over my eyes, my lack of sleep stirring in my chest as I scanned my boyfriend; he was so handsome today, so calm. Roman leaned down, now balancing his cigarette between his fingers as he lowered himself to my level, inches away from my face in a rather intimidating manner-- the tension was so thick, I could probably run my fingers through it. "Is someone a little embarrassed?" he cooed, nudging my shoulder. "Not used to me running my mouth like last night?"

I was relieved to know I didn't have to explain why I was so flustered today-- still, I was being painstakingly put on the spot. "You always run your mouth, Rome, that's nothing new,"

"Not like that, though," Roman's eyes were practically sparkling. "It's alright if you can't take it. Just tell me if you can't."

Can't take it? Who did he think he was? There was a burning challenge in his voice, and mixed with my slight offense, it only lead to the following; "I can take it," I huffed, stepping forward. "You think I can't?"

Roman hummed, the corners of his mouth curving up into an evil grin. "Nah, I think you can. You're a quick learner," He pressed a short kiss against my cheek before straightening up, placing his cigarette back between his lips before leaning against the lamp post again. "You can keep up with me, right?" he mumbled in between a drag. "I'm not scaring you back into Letha's arms?"

Roman said it with a sense of humour, but I couldn't help but catch onto the anxiety hiding behind his words. My brows drew together, watching as he finished his cigarette and threw it to the ground, stomping it. I cleared my throat; "I thought we talked about this last night... You're quite hung up on this Letha thing, aren't you?--"

"No,"

That was too quick to be believable. "Rome?--"

"I'm not," As he turned back to me, Roman's eyes narrowed. I had forgotten how quickly his demeanour could change, with the snap of a finger. Suddenly, he was cold. "Stop projecting on me. You're being dramatic."

Huh? There was no way to contain the grimace that followed. My eyes widened, bewildered that he was snapping at me. That truly came out of nowhere. "What?" I breathed. "I'm not projecting-- Why is this setting you off so bad? We don't even know why she called me or what she truly wants!"

Roman groaned; it was clear that he hadn't meant to instigate a fight. Especially not on school grounds. "Jeez, could you lower your voice? People are staring," His cheeks redded a little as he caught the eyes of a few students passing us by, and he lowered his gaze to the ground, cursing under his breath.

I took a quick glance around, snorting as I turned back to him. "Roman, now that you're my boyfriend, I'm comfortable enough to tell you that you can't snap at me like that anymore. Or talk to me like that, for that matter. Ever! Those days are over, do you hear me?"

Roman's eyes widened to the likes of big, shiny plates of china, staring back at me with a look of both anger and horror. His lips drew a straight line and his jaw clenched before he spat pure venom; "Wow... You really know how to make a big deal out of nothing,"

Those words chilled me to the bone. Shellshocked, I took a step back, holding my breath as my eyes drilled into his. Roman's chest rose and fell in slow, long motions, none of us knowing what to say.

It was at this moment that I heard a cheerleader-cry coming from the football field, catching my attention. My gaze went past Roman and to the team that was practicing, doing some sorts of somersaults in the air as they howled the school's motto. And as we stood here with a clear view of the cheerleader team, practically hiding behind this lamp post, something dawned on me-- why had Roman been standing here in the first place? Why this exact place?

He seemed to be catching onto my trail of thoughts, turning to glance at my transfixion. It gave me a moment to lose face, opening and shutting my mouth as I flailed my arms in exasperation. It only got worse when I realized several girls on the team were waving at him, and I recognized one of them to be one of his earlier flings. Was it the one he screwed back in March? Then, it suddenly dawned on me that Roman wasn't turning back to me, his gaze now resting on the waving cheerleaders and their ridiculously short skirts as he nodded to himself in boyish approval--

My heart sank all the way down to my shoes. "Really, Roman? Really?" I didn't expect my voice to be so frail, so upset.

He sensed my tone, finally laying his eyes on me with an irritated look about him. Roman reached up to move his hair out of his forehead, running his fingers through his hair as he spoke; "What is it now? Just appreciating the view,"

"Appreciating... the view?" I was stunned. Stunned. It felt as though he had stabbed me right in the chest-- who the fuck talks like that to their girlfriend? "I'm glad to see you're invested in the relationship I threw everything away for. Thank you for the reminder, Roman, that you're still just a guy."

With a laugh, Roman was back to smiling-- he was giving me a severe case of whiplash. "What? They're waving at me, it's normal to check out who it is! You know I'm not going anywhere, right?"

No, I had to look away. I couldn't think clearly now that he looked so charming again. Why did he have to be so hot and cold? I had hoped we were past this on the spectrum of Roman-ness. It only got worse when he stepped forward, pressing a warm kiss to my temple. "All yours," he whispered against my skin, placing his hand on my cheek as he towered above me. "Let me walk you to class, hm?"

I had to take a deep breath, my eyes closing to relish in the fact that Roman was kissing me so openly in front of everyone, especially in front of the cheerleaders. Still, I knew I had to gather my thoughts-- the discomfort was lingering in my chest, the creeping unease settling in my mind. I didn't want to let this slide.

I strained a smile to mask my inner turmoil as I put my hand over his, getting up on my tippytoes to press a shy kiss to Roman's lips, feeling him sigh against me. It was short, sweet, and like a temporary band-aid. So when I pulled away, it felt like I was ripping it off with all my might-- I didn't want to. I forced myself to speak, clearing my throat; "I'll walk myself to class, thanks,"

I could see it in his eyes that he was taken aback, not expecting that I would turn down his offer. The flicker of confusion streaked across Roman's face like a flash of lightning. "Uh, okay... What subject do you have now?" he tried, an attempt to drag out our time together.

"... I'm gonna be late," I couldn't help myself-- I pressed a kiss to his cheek, wanting to feel him once more. If there was one thing I could find solace in, it was the fact that I could kiss him as often as I wanted to now that we were together. "Please find another place to smoke. You're breaking my heart."

That seemed to land a blow to Roman, whose brows drew together in a look of hurt. I was reminded of his promises to not hurt me, to do his best to keep me happy, and I left him by the lamp post hoping he remembered his words as clearly as I did.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

And I thought my unease wouldn't get worse. As the days flew by, I was positive, hopeful even. However, staring down at the messages Letha sent me this morning, I couldn't help but feel a sense of doom as I waited for Roman's last class to be over.

Several days had passed since the last time I saw Letha at the gas station, where she had tried to apologize to me. Her words of longing, how she insisted that she missed me and never meant for anyone to get hurt, had etched themselves into my mind, unable to be forgotten.

So, I figured it wouldn't do any more harm to read what she had written. I had waited all day to open her messages, after all. It was gnawing on my mind at this point-- My thumb hovered above the message notification, and I held my breath as my eyes grazed the words on the screen;

letha: hey... i didn't expect you to answer my call a few days ago, much less call me back, but i don't want to give up just yet. i want you to know how sorry i am that you were hurt and that i no longer talk to Jasmine, but that you deserve to know the truth after everything you've been put through this past month. i know you and Roman are a couple now, since he told me at dinner... and frankly because the whole school won't shut up about my baby cousin no longer harassing everyone. who would've thought?

letha: you were once mine, and i was yours. i might never fully forgive you for going behind my back, but you were my best friend in the whole world. i'm so tired of acting like i don't miss you. could we please talk?

letha: you need to know the truth about Roman. please.

I should've known this was a bad idea. I should've known. Pressing my phone up against my chest, feeling my heart beat against it, I squeezed my eyes shut as the school bell rang. Several students rushed out of the doors in the hallway, and I knew I had to get myself together before Roman saw me so out of it.

He and I hadn't been properly alone for a while. Although I had missed him and his lips against mine, I was still seething inside about him staring at the cheerleaders and the awful conversation before and after. I was still battling my jealousy regarding the situation; why had he been so snappy, all of a sudden? And why did he feel the need to appreciate the view? Everything about it made me nauseous.

Still, I didn't deny Roman when he caught up with me at lunch earlier today and asked me to wait for him after school. He had been so incessant, so sweet-- I missed my little devil, no matter how insecure he made me.

I got a few odd looks from the people passing me in the hall as I harshly patted my face in an attempt to snap out of my dark spiral of thoughts. Unfortunately, Roman also caught this just as he stepped out of his classroom; "What are you doing?" he asked, grimacing.

Flustered, I watched him throw his backpack over his shoulder, towering over me as I was pressed further against the wall behind me. Despite his look of disapproval, he still looked ridiculously pretty today-- Romy Schneider. His hair was styled in a classic heartbreaker look, the green in his eyes fixating on me as he tried to find a reason for my odd behaviour.

"Nothing," I lied. "Trying not to fall asleep. I've been waiting for your class to be done for, like, an hour."

Roman hummed, leaning down to place a quick kiss on the top of my head. "Thanks for waiting. It's nice to see your face," He placed his free hand on the small of my back, leading us to walk down the hallway. "So... There's a movie going down at the cinema tonight, and I think we should go and make out in the back. Thoughts?"

I held back a sickeningly girly giggle-- my heart fluttered uncontrollably, and it was as though all my anger melted away. "Which movie is it?"

"Not sure. Some Serbian silent film from the sixties,"

"Oh... Right up our alley, then,"

Roman's laugh nearly made me blush. Accompanied by the small squeeze of my waist, I allowed myself to keen against his body, letting out a small sigh of satisfaction.

This was my favourite part of the day. Being paraded down the hall for everyone to see. At this moment, I forgot about my sorrows with Letha, and could suddenly feel the pride blooming in my chest as I got a few jealous, scorching stares from a group of girls passing us by. It only got better when I realized they were cheerleaders-- my eyes followed them, narrowing as a rather evil grin spread across my lips.

That'll show them. I was ready to cut off the heads of the next ones that waved at my boyfriend.

I leaned against Roman's touch, feeling his hand resting at my side. Something told me he was putting up a bit of a show to make up for the incident by the football field a few days ago, and honestly? I liked this. I could live with this.

Roman caught up with my little feeling of victory, snickering to himself as he playfully rolled his eyes; "Getting high?"

"Yeah," I breathed, feeling my cheeks get rosy as he stroked his thumb along my skin, caressing me as we continued down the hall. This was certainly a high-- one I had longed for. In a flash of confidence, I obnoxiously turned my head to watch the seething cheerleaders, flashing them a vicious smile. Bitches.

Roman tsked, the signature smirk forming across his lips. He noticed my glee-- "What do you say we give them a show?" he murmured, his green gaze darting back to me, his burning eyes full of dark agenda.

I didn't have time to protest or agree as Roman grabbed my shoulders, leading my back up against the nearby lockers. Oh, everyone would definitely hate us more now-- but I could only smile up at him and bask in the feeling of mutual thrill.

"Are they still looking?" Roman whispered, biting his lip to contain his excitement.

A quick glance-- "Yeah,"

His eyes practically sparkled. "Good," Suddenly, he snaked one hand around my waist as the other rested against my cheek, his thumb hooked under my jaw to tilt my head up-- It was easier to kiss like that, seeing as he was practically taller than a fucking tree. Roman leaned forward, brushing his lips across mine, feeling the coolness of my breath against his skin, contrasted by the warmth of my quick breath through my nose over his cheek. Then, the soft pillow of his mouth pushed against mine, the pressure so adoring it made my blood heat all the way into my fingertips.

Roman had tried to do similar things in public multiple times before we became official, but I had shut him down every time. Before, it would've terrified me out of my mind to do something so bold; to make such a statement in front of the school that I was his, to show I was so dizzyingly into him that I would let him do this to me in public. But here I was-- craving it.

It was a show of power, and of submission and belonging; Roman's lips were deadly soft, but there was a hint of something more fiery, sincere. My hands quickly tangled into his hair, pulling him closer as I savoured both the moment and the taste of his cinnamon cigarettes on his tongue.

Roman's plush lips were slightly parted, moving a little as though he was whispering a question-- it was so painfully sweet.

Sweet.

And I imagined the sight to be a gut punch to the cheerleaders watching us from down the hall. I wondered whether they had ever seen this side of Roman before, felt this side of Roman, or whether he hadn't bothered to act as though they interested him. Everything about it made me smile-- there was a sinister satisfaction in it.

I sighed against the kiss, a soft smile splayed across my lips as Roman pulled away, gently nudging my nose with his before he straightened up. "Could you stop giving me grief now?" he teased, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. "Everyone knows we're together. No one's gonna try anything after this, I'm not into the cheerleaders, and I'm dying to roll around in your bed after the movie. Maths always fucking drains me."

Giggling, I reached out for his hand. "Why can't we roll around in your bed, for once? I still haven't been to your place,"

Roman shrugged, intertwining our fingers as he lead me away from the locker. "My mom is crazy, and yours isn't. It's easier that way,"

"Oh?" It struck me that he never actually talked about his parents-- "What do you mean?"

Roman remained quiet as he led me out of the main entrance, and we were now walking hand in hand down to where he had parked his car. It was obvious that he didn't want to talk about it, that he maybe wasn't ready for it. As I spotted his unease, I wrapped my arms around his, clinging to it-- and I was sure he'd have smiled down at me, had the following not happened.

Our steps came to a halt before I could realize why he froze. I glanced up at Roman, about to ask him why he stopped so abruptly until it became glaringly obvious.

Because there she was, leaning against the bonnet of his car-- Letha. Her nervous gaze flickered between the both of us, breaking out into an anxious laugh as she shoved her hands into her pockets. "I thought I would see the two of you here,"

Her perfectly styled blonde hair lay in soft waves over her shoulders, her kind, green eyes piercing me with the softest impact as she searched my face for a reaction other than horror.

I hadn't expected to cling to Roman as hard as I did, but now it felt like I was holding onto him for dear life. My blood ran cold, my whole body freezing over at the sight of her. It was damn awkward meeting her knowing I had ignored all her attempts at reconciliation, and I wanted to crawl up Roman's shirt and hide.

Nonetheless, I planted my feet on the ground and watched as Roman balled his fists, inhaling sharply to contain his disdain; it was clear that he didn't want to see her either. "Letha, I told you not to do this," he said, jaw clenched. "She obviously doesn't want to talk to you."

With small steps, I dared to partly hide my body behind Roman. Free shield, no? This whole meeting had me mortified, wanting the ground to open up and swallow me whole-- I didn't expect my heart to beat so hard, and I prayed it wasn't audible.

Letha cleared her throat, visibly uncomfortable. Her kind exterior started to crack, hardening. "I've just been going insane... I wanted to ask if you've gotten my message?" Her green gaze darted towards me as she asked me the question, and the meeting of our eyes made my grip around Roman tighten. "What message?" he echoed, looking down at me with clear disdain. It felt like his stare was drilling holes into my brain, scanning my inner thoughts to dig out the truth-- I was cornered.

Fuck. "I didn't have time to tell you yet..." This was downright horrifying, and I tried to make myself smaller as I avoided Roman's burning gaze. "She says she just wants to talk, Rome."

Roman groaned, instinctively pulling me further behind him. I was fully sheltered now, and my breath caught in my chest as his next words came out sharper, harsher, as he turned to his cousin; "Letha, she doesn't want to talk to you! What is so hard to understand here?"

Oh, so he was speaking for me now?

Letha groaned, rolling her eyes. "How the fuck am I supposed to know if she's the one avoiding me or if you're telling her to? Come on, Ro!" She stepped away from the car, raising her voice; "Can't you at least step away? She doesn't need you to fucking shield her or speak for her!--"

"You don't know crap about what she needs!" Roman barked, fury burning in his voice. "You threw it all away! Face that you screwed up! And for the first time in my life, I'm needed, and I will shield her as I please!" He glanced back at me, motioning for me to start walking with him to the car.

My breath caught in my throat, not daring to tell him no. Not when he was in this mood, definitely not.

With quick steps, Roman pulled me along with him. "Stop bothering her," he hissed in Letha's face, opening the door to the passenger seat for me. "You've done enough damage. Enough."

I sank into my seat, not meeting Letha's broken gaze as Roman made his way to the driver's seat. I didn't need to see her to know what she looked like right now-- green eyes probably glossed over, her slender arms wrapping around her for comfort.

It only got worse when Letha called my name, her hurt voice making it impossible to avoid her anymore. When I finally turned to her, listening to the sound of the car starting, it almost felt as though I was looking into a mirror. I was sure I looked just like that when Letha abandoned me crying on the bleachers, calling me a whore when I told her about my feelings for Roman before she stormed off. My heart tore into a million pieces, looking into the teary eyes of the girl who used to know me better than anyone else.

Still, did I owe her the kindness of pity? She certainly hadn't shown me any.

I didn't have time to think about it-- Roman quickly drove us out of the school parking lot, groaning as he ran his fingers through his hair with his free hand. I could see that he was still seething, eye twitching as he gripped the steering wheel with a little too much power.

"Such bullshit," Roman cursed-- I hadn't seen him this pissed before. "She has no right to bother you anymore. I fucking told her!"

"She just--" Letha's big, green eyes of sadness haunted me. It made my heart clench, my soul crumble. "She seems really desperate to talk, Rome."

He glanced at me, just for a second, with apparent disdain. "So? I don't get why you're even entertaining the thought of giving her the chance to!" His grip around the wheel only tightened as he turned his gaze back on the road. "But Letha's got quite the nerve to just show up like that... She's begging for you to forgive her so her guilty conscious gets relief, it's damn selfish! It's not about you at all!"

"Why not?" I turned in my seat, feeling my frustration simmer. "Why would it not be about me? Is it so crazy to think she might just want us to be friends again, that I'm someone worth being friends with?"

"That's not-- She doesn't want to be your friend!"

"Then why the hell is she doing all of this?"

"Because Letha obviously doesn't want us to be together, don't be so naive!" Vexed, Roman hit the steering wheel with a loud groan-- it made me jump in my seat. "If you think she's forgiven you for going behind her back, think again! This is her taking revenge on me for all the times I've messed with her friends, okay?"

I didn't want to think about him and Letha's long list of ex-friends; it made me nauseous. I resorted to balling my fists, trying to collect my thoughts. "You didn't even let me hear her out..."

Roman snorted, rolling his eyes as he adjusted the rearview mirror. "You're making it sound like I'm a controlling asshole. May I remind you that you were hiding behind me, holding onto me for dear life?" He turned to me, a sharp look in his green eyes; "And when the fuck were you going to tell me that she texted you?"

Oh... That.

Honestly? I had hoped to get a little more time to think about it. To at least have that opportunity. "I would've told you sooner if you hadn't drooled all over the cheerleaders that day," I knew it was a reach, but I didn't know what else to say. As I crossed my arms over my chest, I truly felt how little I had processed that situation. "Appreciating the view, as you said!"

Another groan, along with one more hit against the steering wheel; "They waved at me, it's normal to check who it is when someone waves at you!--"

"I don't give a shit, the thing that matters is that the girl who waved was the one you fucked in March!--"

... Oh no. He didn't need to know that I kept track of that.

"... What?" Roman's angry expression turned confused as his grip loosened around the wheel, quietly trying to process what I had just said.

As soon as those words slipped past my lips, I felt my throat go dry as I pressed my back against the seat. Why would the leather not split apart, swallow me whole, and allow me to avoid the aftermath? I hadn't expected to blurt that out; there was no going back now. "Yeah... And now she's waving at you like she possibly has a chance with you, because maybe you like making her think she still does! How do you think that makes me feel?"

Roman looked like he was two seconds away from ripping the steering wheel off its hinges, eyes wide and burning with fury. "What the fuck are you accusing me of here? And since when have you been keeping up with my sex-life?!"

Sure, I walked right into that one-- I suddenly felt like I had been transported right back into the time I watched Roman from afar. The way I'd watch him throw tater tots at the cheerleaders to catch their attention, the way he'd make me feel small by pulling my hair as he passed me in the halls, and how I had gotten used to the sight of him disappearing upstairs with girls at parties wishing that was me.

It felt like I was that girl again; the one that kept track of everything he did. The one who would compulsively wash my hands if I was introduced to one of his previous flings through Letha. The jealousy, the obsession-- it was all hitting me now. Especially as I turned to watch him, how his lips were angrily pressed shut, confusion visible on his pretty face.

It was too damn overwhelming. I realized my hands were trembling as they reached for the hem of my shirt, anxiously ripping at the seams as always. However, through the storm of feelings coursing through me, I heard Letha's melodious laugh as my memories flooded my mind-- She had been my anchor through it all, despite the fact that she never knew about my feelings for Roman.

No, no, no-- I hated how emotional this made me. “I threw away everything with Letha to be with you, so I'm sorry that I'm paranoid. I don't think you get that she was everything to me. But even despite that, she was my moon and you were... the sun,"

Roman's grip around the steering wheel loosened as his lips parted in uncertainty, brows drawing together as his gaze flickered between me and the road. "You didn't know me back in March," he mumbled, still processing. "That makes no sense--"

"I carved our initials into a tree in March,"

"... Oh,"

My gaze darted back down to my lap, checking out what I had done to my sweater. There were a few loose threads now, that's for sure. I almost laughed at the sheer absurdity of it, suddenly remembering how I had gotten so lovesick that I drove my keys into a tree during a walk in the park, carving our initials as tears streamed down my cheeks. It had been a horrible March; I couldn't be more happy that it was over.

Roman nodded to himself, chewing invisible gum--

"Okay... Where?"

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

I never expected him to see this. Ever.

I leaned against the tree, watching as Roman traced our initials with a shimmer of fixation in his eyes. The green of the park was a dark contrast to the light green of his orbs, the hazel and blue nuances being the only points placing him perfectly in the scenery. Like this, it was as though I was looking at a painting-- the ones painted by depressed Russian artists before the fall of the Tsars. They always knew how to bring beauty into a world that was only cruel to them.

It was specific, sure, but I had to occupy my mind with something as Roman remained quiet. The wait was nerve-wracking.

Ethereal hues of sunlight shone through the thickness of the trees in the full bloom of summer as I kicked at a nearby chestnut. About half an hour had passed since our argument in the car, and another half hour passed before I finally found the tree in a desolate part of the park. I chewed on my bottom lip, anxiously watching Roman's every reaction.

I expected him to be freaked out. To be disgusted, even. How creepy wasn't this?

However, Roman was painstakingly calm. He ran the pads of his fingers over every cut, every bumpy line-- "This is..."

"Yeah, I know," My arms were crossed over my chest, gaze now resting on the grass nearby. "I never thought you'd like me or that I'd betray Letha like that, so I wanted to... materialize my feelings, if that makes sense? Bottle it up somewhere. Pull a Voldemort."

"A what?"

"Like, horcruxes?" Confused, I got the courage to look at him again. "Roman, have you not seen Harry Potter?"

He shrugged-- "Isn't it, like, for kids?"

"... You used to be a kid too, do you remember that?" Oh, the hypocrisy; "You've been harassing me about not having watched The Godfather for ages, but you haven't even seen?-- Oh, fuck it." It was impossible not to laugh, and I gave into a low chuckle as I pressed my crossed arms tighter to my chest. "Anyway. This tree thing is super creepy, I know, so would you rather I showed you the message from Letha instead?"

Roman finally looked at me, a blank expression on his face. Something told me he didn't want to give away his true feelings regarding the matter. Still, he held out his hand, and I promptly gave him my phone.

Roman knew my password-- that was no issue. He didn't have to ask for it, now staring down at the message from Letha.

I pressed my back against the tree as much as I could, wanting to melt into it and disappear just like earlier in the car. Watching the way Roman's brows drew together in confusion, the flash of annoyance that streaked across his eyes-- it didn't help my anxiety that he didn't say anything, wordlessly handing me my phone back.

I held my breath as I tucked it back into my pocket, waiting for him to say something. However, what he said caught me off-guard;

"The tree thing... It's not that creepy," Roman leaned against it, staring down at me with a nonchalance about him, almost as though he hadn't just read Letha's words of betrayal.

It made me uneasy, but I shrugged; something about the beauty of his eyes calmed me down as I gave in to a soft smile. "You don't have to protect my feelings, Rome, I'm very aware--"

"It's not," Stepping away from the tree, he neared me with careful steps. "I know we've talked about this before, but I'm just a little shocked you felt so... strongly about me. Even during a time when I was pulling your hair. It just doesn't make sense that you'd like me at all, even now."

I sent him a defeated look, leaning my head against the wood behind me. "Why is that so shocking?"

Roman now stood in front of me, and he reached out to place his hands on my waist. "I just don't think anyone ever has in this way," he said. "It's so sweet, it almost makes me nauseous."

I giggled-- "I make you nauseous?"

Roman's next words were said with such a stoic tone, I froze to my spot; "You make me sick,"

Dumbfounded, I let my lips part in shock. It was almost as though his green eyes were filled with pity. "What?--"

"Sick to my stomach,"

Suddenly, I couldn't remember the last time he had blinked. Uhm...? The way we were standing, the way I was pressed up against this tree, gave me the biggest deja vu of my lifetime. This was exactly the same situation as when we played seven minutes in heaven, the very thing that had unraveled everything. I was frozen in fear of his next words, holding my breath.

"Knowing you have the compassion to feel this strongly about me, makes me sick," Roman breathed, his hands kneading my waist with strength that nearly made me wince in pain. "That you've fucked up your life to be with me, makes me sick. And that I'm going to have the worst time letting you go if I must, makes me sick." There was an intensity in him that I hadn't properly seen in him before now-- I wasn't sure whether to be scared or turned on. It only got worse when Roman leaned in, his hot breath against my lips making me shiver; "That I'm ready to go to war with Letha, with family, for you, makes me sick. Knowing I'm ready to rip her head off if she takes you from me... Makes. Me. Sick."

A quiet shiver of air left my body, my shaking hands grabbing at his. "Rome, I--"

"I'll be better for you," Roman's green eyes drilled into mine with desperation, his grip around my waist loosening before he wrapped his arms around me, pulling me flush against him. "Whatever Letha says about me, the truth as she called it, I need you to not believe it. I'm asking you to kill me, in a sense."

"What?--"

"I want you to make me so sick that I die in your arms," Roman let out a shaky breath, leaning his forehead against mine as his eyes closed shut. "I think it'd make me feel good. I don't want to be so bitter and angry all the time... and I feel good with you. Really good."

Oh.

My heart swelled as I brought my hands up to cup his face, my thumbs stroking over his cheeks as we stood still. There were leaves rustling in the distance, and a sweltering breeze that passed us briefly, but all in all, it was just Roman and I in this deserted area of the park. I could easily agree that it felt good, that it felt right-- just my pretty boyfriend and me.

I got up on my tippytoes, pulling Roman in for a gentle kiss. It made my heart swell, made the tips of my fingers burn as I felt his cold breath against my cheek when he exhaled through his nose.

It was just us, and I needed it to stay that way. We needed it to stay that way, to work as we needed to.

I couldn't let nostalgia kill this. Not for Letha, not for anything in the world. I wasn't sure what it was that she was dying to tell me, why she felt the need to tell me the truth about him as she claimed-- wasn't this his truest form?

Roman's hands pushed against the small of my back, drawing me in as close as humanly possible. The kiss deepened with every breath, with every pull of the other-- "Choose us," he pleaded, mouthing his words into my lips. "Me and you. Us."

His desperation nearly made me burst into flames, similarly to a phoenix; Roman would've gotten that reference if he had seen Harry Potter. It seemed I might actually have to watch The Godfather for him to do so. Still, I sighed softly into the kiss, my hands going into his hair to tug him closer.

I made my decision then and there-- I wasn't going to answer Letha. I could figure out the truth about Roman on my own, thank you very much.

"Me and you," I breathed. "Us."

Chapter 8: the intimacy of shared silence

Summary:

After Letha insisted you needed to know the truth about Roman, you decided you didn't want to hear it. Will there be consequences, or will you be able to navigate the secrets on your own?

Chapter Text

The intimacy of shared silence.

The quiet wince as Roman's knife sliced a tear into my finger.

The hiss he let out as the other blade sunk into his own.

I wasn't sure why my hand was shaking, but there was no way to stop it-- I watched as the blood trailed down my hand and down into the vial I held close to my skin, careful not to waste a single drop. My gaze fell on Roman, whose eyes were already on me; his pupils were unusually large, but there was a softness about him which made me forget that he looked a little spaced out.

The intimacy of shared silence as we exchanged the vials.

The steady breath falling hot against my cheek as Roman clasped the necklace around my neck.

The realization that I was wearing his blood and that he was wearing mine.

So, as we sat beneath the willow tree by the river, listening to the rustling of the vines surrounding us, I tried to comprehend what it was that I had said yes to. When Roman proposed we do this, I never expected it to be a ceremony of sorts. That's the way it felt, after all-- and that was the feeling I was left with as he got up, going down to the dock right by, dipping the bloodied knives by the water.

My finger pulsated as I realized the stream of blood wasn't stopping. I hissed, feeling the sharp sting-- Had the cut maybe been too deep? Roman sat back down in front of me, now taking my bleeding hand into his. He gripped it a little too hard, with an unnatural look of transfixion in his eyes as I bled onto his fingers.

"Rome," I tried, my free hand anxiously rubbing my vial of his blood between my fingers. "It's getting everywhere, do you have anything to?--"

I didn't get to finish my sentence before Roman brought my bleeding finger to his mouth, pressing his tongue flat against the cut. I whimpered as he licked a stripe up along the tear, and I watched him close his eyes as he savoured the deep taste of iron.

How was I to comprehend what he was doing? I couldn't deny that I found this shocking imagery thrilling, sexy even, but I didn't know what to make of it. There was nothing I could do as my hand trembled against his lips, the sharp twinge of pain making me wince with every movement of his tongue. "Ouch, Roman--"

He seemed to snap out of it, and it didn't take long before he pulled away and dragged what looked like a handkerchief out of his pocket, gently wrapping it around my finger. Roman was suddenly handling me with such care, that I couldn't help but feel warm. Or was I possibly about to faint? He pressed his lips against the back of my hand before intertwining our fingers, his own blood barely having left a trace at all.

Something about the whole ordeal was almost too intense for me to handle-- I broke out into a soft, contained giggle, meeting his green eyes. "So?"

"So, what?" Roman asked, tilting his head to the side as he squeezed my fingers.

I shrugged; "Was that what you imagined it would be?" There was a genuine curiosity behind my query; when he had brought up his deepest, darkest wish (which I was glad didn't turn out to be murder), I hadn't expected it to be this. When Roman told me he had something he inherited from his great grandfather that he wanted to put into use, I was innately intrigued.

It made my heart flutter to think he wanted to share what was practically a family heirloom with little old me, and that he had fantasized about wearing my blood around his neck. Underneath his shirts, he had said, his heart beating against the very component keeping me alive. However, when I tried to explain to Roman how devastatingly beautiful that was, he had shrugged it off-- "Nah, it would just be dope,"

Dope. I almost rolled my eyes at the memory.

Still, as Roman leaned forward to press a kiss to my lips, I could do nothing but sigh. "Yeah," he breathed, smiling against me. "It's so cool. And these things are, like, three hundred years old, too."

"What?" I felt my hands get clammy just from the thought. "Are you sure you want to give this to me, then? This is priceless!--"

"Stop it, it's yours," Roman squeezed my fingers once more, the bloodied handkerchief wrapping over his hands as well. It was at this moment that my eyes darted down, wondering whether the design was from the brand I thought it was--

I gasped; this was not a normal handkerchief. "Did I just wipe my blood on Gucci silk?!" Pulling my hands out of his, I studied the bloodied logo as Roman laughed. It dawned on me how much money the Godfrey family actually had-- if he was so careless about something so ridiculously pricey, the family fortune must've been much more than I had initially thought. Maybe I had known, but swept it under the rug for my own sanity? Because how many times had I not walked past the newspaper stands in the city and seen the face of his mother, Olivia Godfrey, on the front page followed by the words billion dollar company?

Roman huffed, shrugging; "Would you rather I let you bleed out? That would definitely taint the memory of my hideout spot,"

He was right-- I was reminded of where I was. Roman had told me he wanted to show me his favourite place after class today, the place he went to clear his head. I could argue this was the prettiest place in the whole of Hemlock Grove as we sat by a small, secluded lake beneath a willow tree. By the small dock leading out to the water, Roman and I had previously had a rock-skipping competition just before we sat down to fill the vials.

He had crushed me at that, of course.

Still, I hadn't expected him to find comfort in a place so ethereal. For some reason, I had expected something dark, like a little cave with little to no light surrounded by Satanist worship panels. That was certainly the image I had of him before we got together-- I used to imagine him bent before an altar dedicated to Satan, begging to be blessed with the opportunity for murder which he could get away with as involuntary manslaughter in the eyes of the law.

But not this. Certainly not this gorgeous scenery.

"Alright then," I breathed, watching as Roman rubbed his vial between his fingers. "Do you come here often?"

He shrugged, eyes transfixed on my blood. There was something eerie about the way he hadn't blinked in what seemed like a minute. "Nah," he mumbled, visibly absentminded. Still, he managed to slip out a crucial detail; "But I used to come here a lot when we weren't together yet and needed time to think."

"About...?"

Roman's green eyes darted at me with speed I didn't expect-- it almost made my breath hitch. There was a certain intensity about him; "You,"

"Well, duh,"

"Duh," he echoed, a smirk slipping past his cracks.

Roman's hair lay in soft waves over his forehead, and I kept thinking about how much I wanted to kiss his lips swollen. Feel his breath graze my cheek, the gentle push of his nose against mine as his tongue licked at mine-- "So you were just sitting here thinking about me? You're more of a loverboy than I thought,"

He snorted; "One more word from you about it and I'm throwing you into the water,"

"You wouldn't dare!--"

"I so would," Roman proceeded to laugh, reaching forward to take my hands into his. The touch sparked a fire in the tips of my fingers as I reveled in the feeling of his soft palms. I gave his hands a soft squeeze, and I could see him retreat a little from the present before he continued; "I don't know, I just... didn't want to let you down."

My brows drew together. "What?"

"Yeah, like-- fuck," Roman sighed, now chewing on the inside of his cheek as his smile faltered. "I sat here a lot trying to find the version of me that you might not run from. I spent most of my time hoping I had it in me to get myself together... for you."

It was a lot to take in, and some things were almost shocking to hear. Still, it was clear to me; "Rome, I think you've misunderstood..." Slowly pulling my hands out of his, I scooted forward on the grass. I watched the confusion in his eyes as I cupped his face, watching him keen against my touch. "I don't want a version of you, and I'm not planning on running any time soon. You can be yourself around me, do you know that?"

Roman put his hands on top of mine, sighing as his green eyes rounded out in a look of defeat. "Yeah, but I can get pretty... dark,"

"I know," I breathed, stroking my thumbs across his cheek. I was aware that the darker side of Roman had scared the crap out of me several times, but the stupid part of me was almost ready to let him kill me if he wanted to. "But if you get really dark, I have a built-in light in my phone that I can shine on you. Right in your face. You'll be hissing to get away, just you wait."

That seemed to do the trick-- I watched Roman crack up, laughing as he buried his face in the crook of my neck. My hands went up into his hair as I pressed a kiss to his temple, and I closed my eyes as I reveled in the moment. When our laughter died down, the only sounds left were the rustling of the leaves around us and the quiet ripples in the water brushing up against the shore nearby.

Roman's following words were muffled against my neck, but his teasing tone still shone through; "You're down bad for me, aren't ya?"

"... Shut up," I mumbled, rolling my eyes as I got ready to push him off.

Still, Roman only laughed, softly kissing my neck as he pulled me into his lap. "You're so crazy about me,"

"Stop it!--"

"Fucking carved our initials into a tree,"

"You said it was cute!-- Ah!" Suddenly, I felt a pain unlike anything I had ever felt before; it was sharp and mind-numbingly deep. It took a second or two before I realized Roman had sunk his teeth into my shoulder, and I could only whimper in pain as I instinctively grabbed a fistful of his hair. It lasted longer than I ever imagined something like this would, and I caught myself wondering when it would be over and when he'd be done, pleading with myself to keep it together. When Roman finally pulled away, I had to breathe deeply to collect myself-- I wasn't sure why tears were pressing up in my eyes, and I broke out into a nervous, quiet laugh as I rubbed my shoulder. "Ow..."

Roman flashed an apologetic smile; "Sorry," he breathed. "Got a little excited."

I kept glancing down at my shoulder, trying to catch a glimpse of the mark he certainly left. "What are you, a vampire or something?" I met his eyes, watching as my joke didn't land as well as I thought it would.

Roman inhaled sharply; "Not exactly,"

"... Right," My gaze fell on the vial of my blood hanging around his neck as a feeling of unease crept up my system. Was something about it setting him off?

I decided to force it out of my mind-- I was being ridiculous, right?

Still, Roman seemed genuinely sorry; "You can bite me back if you want to," he tried. "Really, really hard. Anywhere you want."

"... Anywhere?" As my evil plan formed in my mind, I knew exactly where he wouldn't want me to bite him. "Anywhere, Roman?"

His eyes widened as he realized what he had just said-- "No, I take that back! Not anywhere, no! Not there!"

It was impossible to hold back my fit of laughter. "Yes, there!"

"No!"

"Yes!"

As I laughed, Roman rolled his eyes and pressed a kiss to my cheek; "Okay, I'm not letting you near my dick ever again, that's noted,"

"Yeah, right,"

"No, I'm serious!"

I snorted; "That won't last you twenty-four hours,"

"Fucking try me," His eyes sparkled with mischief-- this was going to be fun.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

I had somehow managed to get out of Roman's grip for long enough to study. It was hard to make time for it, let alone find the time for it, seeing as it was much more tempting to lay around doing nothing with my new boyfriend all day. Still, I had forced myself to go down to the public library, as school wasn't open on a Saturday.

After spending some time buying myself a coffee and finding a place to sit, I slumped down in one of the last free spots and got to work. It was tough to find a flow, and I hadn't studied properly in a while-- I had Roman to thank for that. He was a dangerously handsome walking distraction. It would probably be easier to get back to studying if he didn't give me such a hard time for running away from him, as he called it. Roman didn't realize it himself, but he was practically running around with a sign on his chest saying 'abandonment issues'.

My mind kept wandering back to Roman, wondering what he was doing, whether he was nuking my phone with messages or not, and it got so bad that I had to simply put my work away to take a breather. Why couldn't I focus? I rubbed my vial necklace between my fingers, closing my eyes; it was oddly comforting to know a piece of him would always be with me.

And just as I opened my eyes, ready to rip my mind out of the gutter, I spotted the one person I never thought I'd see at a public library-- or at any library, for that matter. "Peter!" I said, reaching out to grab his arm.

He had almost passed me without noticing me, and his wide, bewildered eyes softened when he saw who it was that had grabbed him. Peter was carrying an awful lot of books, but there was no struggle in the heavy load-- "Oh, it's you!" he said, smiling down at me. "You managed to get away from that boyfriend of yours for more than thirty minutes? Congratulations are in order!"

I snorted, motioning for him to sit down next to me. I was surprisingly happy to see Peter; "Yeah, I did! Can you believe it?"

He laughed-- "Nope. Actually, I can't. I haven't managed to hang out with him since you guys got together, so this is quite the shocker," Peter put all his books down on the table, and I must've counted about six or seven of them. He let out a loud sigh, spreading out; "What are you working on?"

"Some stupid English lit assignment," I turned my book to him, revealing my notes. "If I have to do one more essay about Charles Dickens, I'm going to explode. Seriously. Splatter everywhere with my flesh and blood staining the floor, and so forth."

"Gory," Peter prompted, nodding to himself.

Agreed-- "And you?"

Peter seemed reluctant to answer. His brown hair practically obscured his eyes, showing signs of needing a haircut soon, as he reached for the book closest to him. "The Ethical Dilemma of Feeling," he mumbled, scanning the title over and over.

He looked deep in thought as I reached for another one of his books; titles such as when you feel what you shouldn't, levels of treason and betrayal, and the art of forgiving struck me. "Dude, are you okay?" I asked, nudging him with a trying smile. I only knew Peter through Roman, but I wanted him to know he could confide in me nonetheless.

Still, he simply shrugged; "I might want to study philosophy in college... Just doing some light reading,"

Something told me he was lying his ass off in broad daylight. "Are you sure this is the stuff you should be reading then? Maybe try starting in, like, the ancient Greece section?--"

"Sure," Peter brushed it off, snapping out of his state of deep thinking. He placed his elbows on the table, turning back into the typical version of him as a broad smile formed across his lips. "Roman's jacket?"

Huh? "Roman's-- What?"

Peter's deep laugh echoed the hall, now pointing at my jacket. "It's Roman's, isn't it?"

Oh. I forgot I was wearing it today. "No, this is obviously my size," I joked, holding back an obnoxious smile. "What about it?"

"Nothing," Peter beamed right back at me, a knowing look in his eyes. "I just remember doing that with my girlfriend back in the day, before we broke up. I'm glad Roman's gotten his act together to experience that feeling as well."

"What feeling?"

"The warmth," Peter sat back in his chair, folding his arms over his chest as he nodded to himself. "It feels nice when your girl is wearing your clothes. And you can't deny he's a bit of an icicle. An arctic penguin, if you will."

It was impossible not to laugh-- "That's quite specific,"

"Sure, but it's true. An arctic penguin with a huge igloo he doesn't share with anyone,"

"Right," I hummed. "Then how come you're friends with a penguin?"

Peter lingered on the question, chewing the inside of his cheek as he thought long and hard. Finally, he answered; "Because he'd burn down the whole arctic for me if I ever needed him to. That's just who he is. He wouldn't even hesitate,"

It was impossible not to smile-- frankly, I was rather moved. "That's beautiful, actually,"

"Well... Before you make that conclusion, it might be smart to consider the possibility that he's simply a repressed arsonist,"

I nearly choked on air, coughing through my outburst of laughter. Fucking hell-- men. "I wouldn't be so surprised," I said. "But he's sweet. The whole Letha ordeal feels worth it, and... I will have him returned to you soon, don't worry. You'll get your guy back."

Peter nodded; "I appreciate that, but... what Letha ordeal?"

Did he not know? My brows drew together as I grew uncomfortable with having to retell that story. It certainly didn't make me look like the hero. "Just... how Roman and I ended up together. You know this though, right?"

"Oh, that! Yeah, Letha told me about it,"

I let my confusion be visible on my face as I shifted in my seat, moving closer to the edge to straighten up. "You talk to Letha?"

Peter blinked twice, taking a second before he shrugged; "We... used to, before Roman declared war,"

"Oh," This was certainly news to me. "And what did she say?"

He let out a rather patronizing laugh, spreading out on his chair as he stared back at me with his brown eyes. His head tilted to the side, looking at me as though I was the dumbest little thing he had ever encountered. "Nothing crazy. She mostly just ranted at me, I didn't even get a word in,"

I wasn't sure why I was freezing up. "And what did she say about... me?"

Peter sighed, growing dismissive. "This was a long time ago. I don't remember,"

"Right, right..." I felt my heart drop as I sat back in my chair, defeated. I had an inkling that Peter was protecting my feelings. It didn't take long before he cleared his throat, getting up from his chair. "Don't think about it, okay?" he said, nudging my shoulder. "You've gotta let the bitches talk shit."

"Yeah..."

Peter sighed, sending me a soft smile as I finally looked up to meet his wonky smile. "I'm gonna go give all this crap back and look at the ancient greek philosophy instead. Thanks for the tip. And good luck with the Dickens shit."

I snorted, nodding as I realized I had to get back to work. "I'm gonna have the time of my life, thank you,"

Peter laughed, grunting slightly at the full weight of the books. "I see... And good luck with our favourite bloodsucker, tell him I said hi,"

I felt my heart drop, watching Peter walk away as I dwelled on his last words. Bloodsucker. I inhaled a sharp breath; putting my hand on my shoulder, it felt as though the bitemark Roman had given me was pulsating against my palm. Peter had used such a specific word, and I couldn't put my finger on why I was so shaken up about it. Then I remembered Roman sucking the blood off my finger--

No. This is nonsense.

I got about an hours load of work done before I decided I was done for the day, and I had developed a really bad headache. The clock had barely struck three, but it felt like the day was over already. I was so, so ready to go home and call Roman.

On my way out of the library, I had to pass a section called folklore-- and this was when I caught myself stopping in my tracks.

I stared at the book in front of me for a good minute. I couldn't look away.

The Avoidable Vampirism - The Upir.

... I had no idea what came over me as I reached for it, reading the back page;

The ficticious entity of the vampire has scared generations of human kind. However, there is a much more damning creature that walks our earth which should be the real concern; the upir, the slavic prototype of the vampire branch, is born a cocoon of an age-old curse which is ready to take over the human body through the tragedy of suicide. Upirism lives beneath their skin, scratches at their teeth, and corrupts their minds through dark urges in constant attempts to drive them to the edge of genesis. Do you suspect you are a upir, or do you recognize a darkness in your loved ones?

My heart beat hard in my chest as I stopped reading, not wanting to hear any more of it. I wasn't sure why this book was making me so nervous, why my mind was spinning with thoughts I knew were absolutely ridiculous-- I reached out for my necklace, rubbing the vial of Roman's blood between my fingers as my thoughts raced.

I certainly had no idea what came over me as I went over to the counter nearby and signed the book to my name. No idea whatsoever as I stuffed it down my bag and hurried out of the library.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

Later that day, I had my usual reoccuring stream of thoughts; this was nice. I could live like this forever.

Roman's hair was incredibly soft. I wondered whether he used a specific shampoo to make it so silky to the touch, or whether it was the typical thirteen-in-one shampoo all men seemed to be using these days. Maybe it was just a Roman thing-- maybe his hair was magically perfect all the time, and his skin was always perfect and smooth. I had no way to be sure as I caressed his cheek, feeling the weight of him on top of me as we laid in my bed around midnight.

I placed a kiss to the top of his head, my free hand gently raking through his silky locks of golden-brown hair. Roman didn't allow me to hold him like this very often in the start, but now, it was hard to get him off of me for even one second; when I managed to discreetly flip him over on me when he fell asleep, he let out a long, light sigh as his head laid against my chest.

I could hold him like this forever. Feel his breath against my body, be in awe of his long lashes; now that he was asleep, I could finally stare without getting a weird look-- Roman was so beautiful. The annoying part was just how aware he was of this.

So I held him. Watched him sleep in my arms as I stroked over his back in gentle motions, feeling the soft fabric of his sweater against the tips of my fingers. It was all worth it in moments like these, when Roman wrapped his arms tighter around me in his slumber-- he shifted, making himself comfortable with a short, airy grunt.

Why was that so cute? I could be sure I was whipped now that I found his little noises to be endearing. Even in moments where he'd snore for a few minutes, I listened in pure awe.

I liked to imagine that Roman enjoyed this part of our relationship-- the normalcy. There was nothing in the world I wanted more than to bring some stability into his life, as I felt he didn't get much of it at home. I had yet to get more information about that out of him; he never talked about his family. Still, I was happy to lend him mine.

Roman shifted on top of me, a short groan escaping him as he stirred. He was awake-- "What time is it?" he breathed, voice groggy from his sleep.

I glanced at my phone on the nightstand; "Ten minutes past twelve,"

Roman groaned once more, burying his face in the crook of my neck. "Do you think I could stay over again?"

"Sure," I mumbled, twirling a strand of his hair around my finger. "My parents don't mind." They truly didn't-- I think they were a little relieved their daughter wasn't a complete social disaster with zero friends and no boyfriends in sight.

Roman hummed, pressing lazy kisses to my neck; "I was waiting all day for you to finish your English lit reading, and then I fall asleep when I finally get here," he mumbled, words muffled against my skin. "Definitely not what I had planned."

I could only laugh-- his kisses were almost ticklish. "And what was your plan, exactly? You seemed pretty dead when you came here,"

"Shut up," Roman propped himself up on his elbows with a soft grunt, getting a better look at me and my grin. His lashes were hanging heavy over his eyes, his face grazed by the remnants of a deep wish to sleep longer-- I wanted nothing more than for him to lay back down and sleep for as long as he wanted, so that I could hold him just a little more. Still, he blinked repeatedly in an attempt to wake up; "Want me to tell you my plan, though?"

I reached forward, stroking a strand of his hair away from his forehead. "Sure,"

"I thought..." Roman nudged my nose with his, making my smile widen. "We could ease into a little something."

"Ease into what?" Ironically, this was starting to make uneasy.

Roman rolled his eyes at my expression, pressing a tender kiss to my cheek. "Don't look so scared," he said, the raspiness of his sleepy voice sending a warm shiver down my spine. "I just want to be closer to you."

"Closer?" I mumbled, tugging softly at the tips of his hair as I felt his lips curve into a smile against my skin-- something told me my cluelessness was humouring him.

The soft push of Roman's lips left a trail of kisses up my jaw; "In every way possible," His voice lowered as he shifted, making more space for himself between my legs while he pressed himself further up against me. "I'm just a little in the dark about where to start with you."

I wasn't sure what that was supposed to mean. To keep my mind occupied from spinning, I closed my eyes and tried to focus on how nice it was to be kissed this way-- there was no doubt in my mind that Roman was crazy about me, with the way he was handling me with care. Right now, I only felt pampered, loved, and still slightly worried about what he had meant.

"Just don't want to scare you away," he continued, his hot breath ghosting over my skin. "Knowing you haven't done this before..."

"Done what?--"

Oh.

My lips formed an 'o' as it started to dawn on me. Roman's soft laugh brought me back to earth; "Catching up?"

"Sure am," I mumbled, letting my hands rest at his shoulders. I hoped they weren't too clammy as my heart quickened. "I don't know, Rome... Like, now? You want to do this now? Weren't you asleep just a second ago?"

With a short sigh, he shifted, his green eyes shimmering with amusement. Roman leaned in, angling his face so that our noses weren't bumping; "We keep putting it off," he whispered, brushing his mouth against mine, gently pulling my bottom lip with his own. "I don't see why we should wait. I want to be with you like that." He repeated his action, and I let my breath hitch as my mouth fell open-- the soft push of Roman's lips against mine made my heart thud in my chest, feeling the tips of my fingers burn as I pulled him closer, kissed him deeper.

It was as though there was an innate ache in my body for Roman which had been with me since the first time he had smiled at me in that one class. Since the first time I cried about him, since the first time I kissed him, and since the first time I ever properly laid eyes on him. It was impossible to fight, impossible to ignore-- I was almost clumsy with the way I held onto his hair, wanting him closer, closer, closer.

I was sure he felt it too; it felt as though he wanted to devour me whole. If he truly wanted to, I was convinced I'd let him. Still, as Roman's impatient kisses pressed against my lips, showing the hunger he had been suppressing, I couldn't help but feel the small droplets of uncertainty dripping down my forehead in a continuous torturous cycle.

Maybe I had been too forward, maybe I had somehow signalized that I wanted to do it right now, I wasn't sure-- but my anxiety was making me feel suffocated. "Wait-- Wait," I breathed, unsure why I was suddenly so dizzy.

Roman hummed, pulling away just slightly; I could feel the small string of saliva still connecting our lips as his hungry, green eyes found mine. "What?"

"We can't-- Not now," My attempt to steady my breathing failed, and I kept scouring his face for any traces of disappointment. "My parents are next door, I--"

"So?" I could feel Roman's heart beating against mine despite his calm composure. "It's fine. I've got you. Do you not trust me?"

Oh no. "That's not what I'm saying," I tried, reaching forward to touch his face as he propped himself up on his elbows once more, pulling away to get a proper look at me as he scanned me repeatedly for answers. "Roman, I'm trying to tell you that I'm nervous."

He remained still, but his brows drew together-- he looked cross with me, this way. "What for?" he said. "What is there to be nervous about? It's just me."

Sure, Roman had a point, but he was saying it in a way which was probably harsher than intended. "I know that," I traced my thumbs over his brows, hoping they'd soften. "I just don't want to jump into it too fast..."

"Too fast?" he echoed. "We've been dating for, like, a month and a half all together. How is that fast?"

I had to take a deep breath-- I hated the feeling this was giving me, the unease that settled in my chest. "Look, you were sound asleep five minutes ago, and now you're telling me you want to have sex. Can I breathe for a second?"

"Breathe away," Roman grumbled. "Need an oxygen tank? I'll get one for you. But if you have an inhaler laying around, that would be swell."

I could only roll my eyes, pressing myself as far back into my mattress as possible-- having him hovering above me right now wasn't the most pleasant thing, and I found myself wanting to crawl away. "I just feel that we should talk about it before we really get into it..."

Roman started to look fed up; "What is there to talk about?"

"I don't know! Like, uh..." I dug my finger into his shoulder, poking him. "Condoms!"

"Condoms?"

"Yes, condoms!"

"What about them?" he said, grimacing. "You scared of latex or something?"

"No!" This was getting frustrating-- "You'll wear one, right?"

Roman shrugged; "If you're not on birth control, sure,"

I was taken aback by his compliance. I had expected him to be one of those guys to refuse it. "Okay... That's a start," It took a few seconds before I felt myself relaxing, letting my fingers trail down his shoulders in a long, slow motion. "But I don't want to do it with my parents in the house... It feels weird."

Something about Roman softened, and he hummed as he pressed his lips gently against my cheek. "They wouldn't hear a thing," he purred, wrapping his arms around me as his kisses trailed down my jaw, his hot breath soon fanning over my neck. My jaw clenched as I closed my eyes, unsure whether to give into the temptation and the warmth creeping up my veins as Roman kissed and caressed me-- still, my hesitation made my body rigid and hard like a glass doll, on the verge of breaking into a million tiny pieces. Why wasn't he hearing me?

"I just want to feel you," Roman whispered, his wet lips grazing my collarbones as my breath hitched. "Wanna make you feel good, hear you moan beneath me... You have no idea how much I want you, hm?"

My cheeks burned by the time I felt his tongue against my skin, swiping along my collarbone, making me shiver-- it broke me to hear him say he wanted me. Broke me in the most simple way. I could feel the gears in my brain falling apart, feel my body resist my defensive reflexes. I had to fight against every screaming nerve in my system to place a trembling hand on Roman's shoulder; "Rome--"

It was almost as though he didn't care, drunk on being so close to the edge of my compliance. "It's just me," he whispered, placing a particularly wet kiss against my throat. "Nothing to be scared of. Don't you want me, baby? Don't you want to make me feel good?" I felt Roman's fingers peeking up the hem of my shirt, and my breath caught in my chest as he pushed the fabric further up my body, his greedy hands touching me in a more incessant way than ever before.

I do, I do, I do-- but on these terms? It was damn near impossible to think clearly, especially as Roman forced a knee between my thighs, pressing himself against my center. I was sure I whimpered, melted a little, possibly even bucked my hips up along the added pressure, and he didn't waste any time brushing his mouth against my parted lips.

And just as Roman was about to properly kiss me, his hands almost at the clasp of my bra, his thigh pressing further up against the apex of my own, I found the strength to squeak out a tiny stop.

Stop.

It echoed. Over and over.

It was as though Roman had stopped breathing-- I couldn't feel his warm breath against my cheek anymore. My eyes were pressed shut, my body shivering as I exhaled. It was only now that I heard my heart pounding through the silence. "I want to," I whispered. "Just not now. Not now, not-- not now."

It was only when the silence persued that I dared to slowly pry my eyes open. To my surprise, I hadn't heard or noticed Roman getting off of me. He had sat up, letting my legs crease at his thighs as a reserved and quiet demeanour fell upon him. It was rather unnerving to see him like this, not blinking, simply observing as he stayed mute. No snarky comment, nothing.

I took it as my queue to engage. I had to ask the question that had been bothering me. Still, I didn't expect my voice to be so frail; "Did you... come over today only for this?"

Roman didn't react, raising his hand to run his fingers through his hair. "I came over to see you," he mumbled. "Is that a crime?"

"You said you planned to ease me into this,"

"I say a lot of things,"

I sighed; "Can't you just be honest?" Propping myself up on my elbows, I hoped he'd see I was being sincere. "I'm simply trying to understand you."

Roman remained stoic, his green eyes dulling as his head tilted a little. It was starting to turn into a patronizing glare. "Okay, you want me to be frank? I'll give you honest," He leaned forward, his knuckles planted into my mattress. "I wanna fuck you. Rather nicely, by my standards. Over and over, until you get so cockdrunk you can't speak. But what I can't understand is that you don't want me that way. I literally wear your blood around my neck, but you don't even want to?--" He stopped. A second passed. "... Have I maybe misunderstood?"

Roman's gaze softened into one of confusion; "Do you not feel that pull? That feeling of... wanting me?"

"Of course I do!" I squeaked, sitting up. This was making me panic. "Of course-- Roman, of course!"

He scoffed, retreating in every sense of the word. "Sure,"

Roman's hair fell over his eyes as he lowered his head, and I could see the hints of a small smile peaking through. His next words came out with a low laugh; "I guess I won," he mumbled. "I lasted those twenty-four hours."

I was reminded of our little bet by the water, and I stared at Roman with a dumbfounded expression as he got off the bed. I couldn't believe that he was throwing a bit of a hissy fit because he didn't get laid. Still, I hated that he thought I didn't want him-- "Rome, come on!" I scooted to the edge of the bed. "Where are you going? Don't tell me you're leaving?"

I felt hopeless as Roman grabbed his phone, now glancing around my room to see whether he had forgotten something else. "I'm not sleepy anymore, I'm fit to drive," he mumbled, reaching for his jacket which I had worn earlier today to the library. "Don't stay up too late--"

"Roman!" I reached forward, clasping my fingers around his wrists. "Stop it! I don't want you to go!"

He finally turned to me with a cold look in his eyes, the moonlight dipping into the colour of his hair. "I'll call you,"

His words were chilling-- "Stop it," I pleaded, my grip around him tightening. "Stay. Please stay."

Roman raised his hand to kiss the back of mine before he pried me off him. He stepped towards my window, opening it. "Goodnight,"

I didn't make it to the window in time to stop him, and I watched him ascend my roof with a choking feeling in my chest. I groaned when he was out of sight, doing everything in my power not to kick the chair nearby. I wanted to sink into the ground as I buried my head in my hands, slumping down against the wall.

What on earth had just happened? Why did Roman shut down on me like that? I had been dead sure we were past this...

I wanted to sit like this all night, wallow in sadness and confusion. Maybe if I stayed by my window, Roman would come back up and tap against it, asking to be let back in? He'd apologize, sweep me up on my feet, and tuck me back into bed as he laid down next to me. He'd stroke my hair, kiss my cheek, let me cry into his shoulder as I slowly drifted off into sleep--

I couldn't understand anything. It was hard to process. Did I do something wrong?

So I stayed on the floor until my back hurt, until my eyelids threatened to close shut and carry me to slumber. Fuck it, I didn't have the energy to get back to bed. So as I laid down on the hard wood, I shoved away my library bag to make space for my body-- it was only when I heard the thud of one of the books falling out of it, that I was snapped out of my drowsiness.

The blood in my necklace felt boiling hot. My eyes focused on the title, adjusting to the dark;

The Avoidable Vampirism - The Upir.

... I was suddenly not tired at all.

Chapter 9: unbearable

Summary:

Roman had heard your no, respected your wishes, but now you were wondering how big of a blow it truly was for him to get his sexual advances rejected-- Why was he blowing this so out of proportion? Was something else maybe going on in that brain of his?

Chapter Text

Vladimir Nabokov, the author of Lolita, once wrote to his wife; "I love you, I'm waiting for you unbearably,"

... Waiting for Roman was unbearable, too.

Shatteringly unbearable. Images of wanting to ball up into a contortion of nothingness haunted me, and the need to become a single entity of anger and despair clawed wounds into my skin. I kept imagining I would grow extra arms to help my body become a circle, an ouroboros, but not stopping at the tail-- a snake eating itself to death.

If I could eat myself, I would. Not like an apple, not with gentle nips-- no, I would sink my teeth into my flesh and tear, rip, pull with all my might. Pull, pull, until I was nothing but a gushing wound.

This is what Roman was driving me to.

Is this a bearable state to be in? Constantly?

If I were to ask myself that question once more, I would answer that I no longer thought anything at all. I refused to. My brain stopped working properly the first time I saw him, anyway. Therefore none of my actions actually mattered. They had no consequence. No consequence at all, just like Roman probably saw his actions.

I should've listened to him the night we got together; "I shut down," he'd said. "I retaliate when I'm angry." Maybe I needed to be diagnozed with selective hearing? It was starting to seem as though I shut my ears whenever he spoke, only listening to the muffled sound of his voice as my pupils formed into pulsing hearts.

Still, it seemed I wasn't the only one with selective hearing. If I closed my eyes, I could live through the moment I tried to tell Roman I wasn't up for having sex with him last night. It was like he didn't hear me, didn't register it; but in hindsight, it didn't feel like it was with ill intent.

... Maybe this hearing thing actually needed to be addressed. Maybe we both needed a trip to the doctor's office to tell them we couldn't hear or think properly.

While we're there, I think I'd also like to have him referred to a therapist of sorts. Maybe he could learn how to communicate properly and not run off into the night when he doesn't get laid?

Oh, well-- a girl is allowed to dream. Get a little lost in her head. Sometimes, that's necessary. Especially in moments like these;

I spotted Roman beneath the bleachers with some of his friends, leaning against the metal structure. His hair was styled in the usual heartbreaker style, and the two upper unclasped buttons of his shirt allowed me to glance at the small area of exposed skin-- I spotted the vial of my blood around his neck, and the longer I stood here, I remembered how soft he was to the touch; especially when he was shirtless and on top of me. I hated how I was thinking about him like a dumb cat in heat. Still, I couldn't take my eyes off him; Roman seemed so carefree, laughing with his friends, unaware of how ridiculously handsome he looked.

He should be jailed for walking around looking like that. For life, preferably.

My eyes focused on the way he lazily balanced his cigarette between his fingers, taking slow, careful drags as he listened to his friend talk in the heat of the weather. Now, Roman was as different from yesterday as humanly possible-- I could still see the quiet, retreated version of him he had become last night after the rejection. The one that had practically thrown a fit about not getting laid, which quickly spiraled into what I could only categorize as a mental crisis. Had he been so shocked by getting a no that he had shot himself into existential dread?

And why was his first conclusion that I didn't want him at all?

For a girl who just said she refused to think, I sure did a lot of it. I decided that enough was enough-- I needed to talk to him. Roman was my boyfriend after all, I should be able to do so.

Still, I couldn't remember the last time I felt this small as I made my way towards him, anxiously clearing my throat before I tapped Roman's shoulder. I hadn't managed to put much strength into the tap, and I was almost worried he wouldn't notice me--

One of his friends chimed in with a nasty grin, motioning for Roman to turn around; "Pretty girl, six o'clock,"

Roman turned his head to me, and it was clear that he hadn't expected to see me. His smile fell a little as he pulled his cigarette away from his lips, making sure to exhale upwards and away from my face. I spotted my hair ties around his wrist-- knowing he still wore them gave me a sense of ease. "Hey, sweets," Roman teased, casual as ever. "The catwalk ain't here, you gotta go down to the city center for that."

I rolled my eyes, watching the smug smirk form on his face as the rest of his friends snickered. Why was he acting so... normal? "Rome, we need to talk,"

"Well, fuck," he mumbled, turning to his friends with a playful shimmer in his green eyes. "It seems I'm in trouble, guys." It was as though he was egging them on as they all collectively ooh-ed, his loyal spectators, his royal servants.

I didn't like this side of Roman. Jock-Roman. There were many sides of him I didn't like, actually. Or was it maybe that I didn't like myself for liking him at all? This was becoming more of a mind-fuck than expected. And if we were to play mind games, I knew where to strike; "Roman, either you fucking talk to me like a grown man, or I sit down in Daniel's lap during lunch today. Your choice,"

His head turned towards me with nearly inhuman speed, no trace of any humour on his face anymore. The sudden change was chilling-- I would've shivered, had I not expected it. The oohs only got louder from the group of boys, and I watched Roman's eye twitch as he threw his cigarette down to the floor, stomping it. Still, I didn't break eye contact; I had read somewhere that dogs battled for dominance this way. Since when were Roman and I no better than dogs?

Roman turned to his pack; "Scram," he said, nodding for them to leave.

They were gone within seconds.

He turned to me, a tired look about him. "Talk, then,"

"No," I placed myself before him, watching his green eyes follow me. "That's not how a conversation works. One person says something, and the other one responds. Would you like to try that out, maybe practice a little? It seems you didn't do enough of that in elementary school."

Roman scoffed, rolling his eyes as he stuffed his hands into his front pockets. "How sweet of you,"

"What can I say? I'm patient like that,"

"You'd be good with kids,"

"How great that you're acting like a child, then," I sighed, realizing that I needed a different strategy if I wanted to get anything out of this conversation. For now, Roman remained silent, probably holding back a long string of curses. I took another step forward, and I was immediately embraced by the scent of his cologne. Fuck, how I loved the expensive smell of Roman. Still, I knew I had to get myself together; I let my eyes soften as I looked up at him. "You haven't answered any of my calls or messages... I don't get what's going on in your head. I'm simply trying to understand, but you're just running away. Again."

Roman's eyelids hung heavy over his eyes, lashes fluttering lazily as he met my gaze. He let out a loud sigh; "Maybe I just need space? Did you ever weigh that option?"

"... Do you want space?" This was so damn confusing. "You wanted to be as close as humanly possible last night, though?"

Roman scoffed again-- was it a laugh? He didn't say anything as he looked away, possibly to think. Like this, I spotted the vial again; I let out a relieved breath. To be honest, a part of me was worried he'd take it off.

Finally, he spoke; "I need some time. Time to think,"

"Think about what?" This was making my heart speed up. "Roman, you're worrying me."

He shrugged, still not meeting my gaze. "Just... time. Is that so damn hard to give?"

God, how I hated his tone. Hated the way he spoke to me right now, hated it all. It pushed me to say my deepest fear out loud; "If you're seriously breaking up with me because I didn't want to sleep with you with my parents on the other side of the wall, I sure hope you think very, very carefully,"

"What?" Roman seemed to snap out of it, finally looking at me. His brows were drawn together, confused; "I'm not breaking up with you. Aren't you breaking up with me?"

"What?"

"... What?"

We both looked at each other with bewilderment. It seemed we had both come to very, very different conclusions.

"Roman, I'm not breaking up with you?"

"... Why not?"

"What?!" It felt like my brain was actively melting-- I groaned, rubbing my temples. "What on earth do you mean, why not?"

"I don't know!" Roman's brain seemed to be malfunctioning as well. He kicked off the metal of the bleachers, his mouth opening and closing as he frantically tried to find the right words. His hands were pulled out of his pockets, flailing; "Fuck, I'm confused! I'm gonna-- gonna hyperventilate, so I need to go. Need to-- Yeah, I'm leaving."

I couldn't believe how fast he took off. I hadn't seen anything like that before. Roman wasn't even running, he was simply walking with very, very long steps, and that was enough to be out of reach for me within seconds.

I wanted to scream up at the sky-- what even was that conversation just now? The urge to drive my head into the bleachers became overwhelming, unbearable, but I opted to simply kick the structure instead.

That was a miscalculation on my part. I hissed as the blow to my foot sent jolts of pain up my spine, and I winced as I suppressed the need to jump around on my other foot and look like a clown in the process. I cursed, leaning against the cold metal as I tried to steady my breathing.

This day was not going very well so far.

And it certainly didn't get any better when I heard the shuffling of small footsteps along the grass nearby.

I should've known-- Letha stopped a few steps away from me, her blonde hair moving away from her face with the passing breeze. I blinked through the pain multiple times to make sure it really was her, that she actually had the nerve to walk up to me again. Sadly, I didn't have Roman to hide behind this time. But she looked so sweet with her hands clasped behind her, along with the unsure little tilt back and forth on her feet; "That didn't look very pleasant," Letha mumbled.

I didn't want to entertain this, yet I did. "What, the kick?"

"Well, that too," Letha's trying smile nearly broke my heart. I hated that we didn't know how to talk to each other anymore. "I meant the fight. Is he acting out?"

"... He's not a child, he's not acting out,"

"Didn't you just call him a child?"

"... He's my boyfriend, we're allowed to fight!" I gnarled. "And who the fuck are you to talk to me about this? How much of that conversation did you hear?"

Letha looked like I had just kicked her. "I always do my homework on the bleachers. You guys chose to fight right beneath me,"

Fuck. "You should've moved, then!--"

"It usually helps to dig into what set him off. And then, when you think you have the answer, rip it apart and look through the pieces," Letha's green eyes bore into mine, shimmering with traces of dimmed hope. "I have no idea what you're fighting about, but I've known Roman my whole life. That's how he operates, and... that's all I wanted to say. Hope I can be of some help."

An awkward silence fell over us like a damp blanket-- this was uncomfortable. Nonetheless, I stilled. A part of me recognized that Letha would've been the first to know of my problems with Roman, had we not had a falling out. Had she not iced me out, made me an outcast, turned all my friends against me, and practically shoved me down into the dirt. I would've confided in her, asked her for guidance, support-- I grieved our bond all over again. I gave in, shrugging; "Okay. Thanks,"

That seemed to take a weight off Letha's shoulders. As we stood in silence, simply gazing at one another, until her eyes slowly landed on my necklace. Roman's blood. It dawned on me that it was too late to tuck it beneath my shirt, and I awaited some sort of grief from her about it if she recognized what it was--

"Oh," she breathed. "It makes a little more sense, now."

"What does?"

"If he wears your blood around his neck as well, then it all makes perfect sense,"

"What does, Letha?"

The look she gave me sent a cold set of shivers down my spine. It was ominous, like I had been marked by death. Letha shrugged; "Of course he's... on edge, then,"

The chase was getting frustrating. "Care to go on, or are you just going to keep saying cryptic shit?"

"I can't!-- It's hard to explain!" Letha's shoulders slumped in defeat as her inner turmoil streaked her face. "Just imagine you're really, really broke, but you have a hundred dollar bill hanging around your neck... and under no circumstances can you use it." Her eyes nearly drilled holes into mine. "Would it not drive you crazy?"

Why did it sound like she was insinuating that Roman was a?--

No.

No.

I didn't want to hear this. I didn't bother to give Letha a proper answer before I kicked off the metal of the bleachers, glaring at her as I passed her. "Stay away," I hissed, harshly nudging her shoulder. "Fuck off back to Barbieworld or wherever it is you came from."

As I marched back to the main building, I found it nearly impossible to steady my breathing. My heart was beating rapidly in my chest as I grasped the vial of blood around my neck, rubbing it between my fingers as my mind raced.

It was only when I finally got to class and slumped down on the last free seat that I could think back to last night with a clearer vision than before.

The Avoidable Vampirism - The Upir had kept me up long enough to see the sunrise. I wanted to blame it on the author for writing such a captivating book.

Still, the one thing I hated about literature such as this, was that it never actually said anything straight-forward. It always had to be a nonsense passage with lots of filler words and even more dancing around the actual message;

"Blood's effect on a upir is as much psychological as it is physical. Upirs tend to escalate small arguments in hopes of an eventual physical struggle, a battle that may wound, without properly understanding why. This may lead to a strong sense of insecurity which often settles in the upir's mind and festers, only drawing them forth to the dark road the curse wants them to venture."

That's what was written in the passage about upirs and blood. Nearly impossible to understand, and even further confusing, right? The worst must've been the passage that was written like a self-help book. Did the author seriously think upirs were real?

... Did I?

"And what happens when a upir is exposed to blood, you may ask? There are levels of control which range from person to person. Some may have gotten accustomed to the smell from having cut themselves in earlier years, and some may go into a spiral which is often misdiagnozed as mania in urban psychological trials. But some upirs are so assimilated, they can do experiments with blood or carry vials of it with them wherever they go— which is an inclination that should not be encouraged. The more the upir is around blood in a constant flow, the more the irritation festers, the anger boils, and the innate aggression settles."

And this is where I had to stop. I remember putting the book down to stare at the moon in the distance, wondering why on earth I had fallen into a loophole like this. I couldn't believe how many similarities I could draw between these supposed upirs and my boyfriend-- what did that say about Roman? He was possibly edgier than I had initially thought.

The more I thought about the similarities, the more insane I felt.

... I needed to return this book to the library.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

"The both of you are like two rabid raccoons fighting over scraps in the New York City sewers," Peter grumbled, lazily sweeping the floor with his broom.

I blinked, no longer rolling up cables as I turned to him. "... Do you have to use the craziest metaphors? And why is it always an animal?"

We had been assigned to clean up after an assembly later that same day, a task I had been able to evade up until now. So, when I spotted Peter also being forced to do this, we both huddled up in the corner of the auditorium backstage and started doing the most mundane tasks with the least effort to pass the time. However, it seemed he had been informed of my petty fight (or whatever the hell this was) with Roman, which was why he was back to making animal metaphors again. "Rabid raccoons..." I mumbled, reaching for a new cable to roll up. "Why the New York City sewers? Why raccoons?"

Peter shrugged; "Uh... Because raccoons are cool?"

Well, that's the thing with boys, isn't it-- there's pure static noise in their brains. I sighed, suppressing a chuckle as I continued my task. I glanced over my shoulder to make sure the teacher wasn't catching us slacking off before I turned back to Peter. "Did Roman maybe mention that he thought I was going to break up with him over this?"

"Yeah," Peter also looked over at the teacher just to double check. "I told him it was nonsense, but he's spiraling. He's also gotten obsessed with the idea of joining a raw meat eating contest."

It was impossible not to roll my eyes. Boys. "Seriously, what is up with him these days? Please, bro-code aside, what the fuck is happening?"

I was sure the stupid upir book was the reason my heart jumped when Peter's gaze went straight to my necklace. It almost felt like he was wordlessly trying to hint something-- no, I needed to get this out of my head.

Still, it chimed in my mind like an old clock;

There are even some upirs that are so assimilated, they can do experiments with blood or carry vials of it with them wherever they go— which is an inclination that should not be encouraged.

Should not be encouraged.

Peter's voice snapped me out of it-- "I think he's just going through withdrawal,"

"Withdrawal?" I echoed, turning my full attention towards him. That didn't sound good. "What do you mean, withdrawal? From what? He hasn't stopped smoking, if that's what you're talking about."

It seemed to dawn on Peter that he had said something he shouldn't have. His brown eyes widened and he cleared his throat, no longer sweeping the floor as he stopped in his tracks. "You don't know?"

"... You're killing me here,"

Peter sucked in a sharp breath, nodding to himself in defeat. "I would make you promise not to tell him I told you, but I bet you'll want to talk to him about this, so I won't even bother," His grip around the broom tightened; "So... Roman and I used to do coke together. A lot." When he didn't get a reaction, Peter grew visibly nervous. "It used to be the usual thing at parties. Roman always had a stash, and I'd join in from time to time... And he hasn't had a hit for a while, probably since you two got together, so all of this is probably just a part of the withdrawal."

Oh. I had forgotten about this. I blinked, tilting my head to the side as I gazed up at Peter with furrowed brows. Was that supposed to be a big reveal of sorts? Did he seriously think I didn't know that they used to do drugs? That I hadn't seen the both of them leaning over tables, snorting lines as I passed the room to check whether Roman was in there with a girl or not? This confirmed that they didn't notice me that one time I walked in on them in a bathroom while Roman was making the lines neat with his credit card. "Ah, so that's what that was?"

Peter's eyes widened; "... What?"

"The stuff you two were always snorting," Shrugging, I watched the look on his face distort into one of shock. It hit me that he hadn't known the true depths of how obsessed I used to be with Roman, and that I needed to get myself together before I revealed anything further damning; "Peter, I have a little something called vision. And a brain, for that matter. You guys aren't slick."

"We... aren't?"

It was impossible not to laugh, and I reached forward to nudge his shoulder. "Not in the least," To be honest, I was relieved to hear that Roman was coming off drugs and that my ridiculous upir-suspicions had been untrue. Maybe I could finally put all of that behind me and return the stupid book?

... Please. I was afraid I was going crazy.

He scoffed, moving away to continue sweeping the floors with a grumpy look on his face; "Anyway. That's the only explanation I have for you concerning what's up with him, but it's only an assumption. Maybe you should take a step back and let him come to you when he's done freaking out?" Peter glanced at me, almost as though he was plotting something. "Actually... I think I have the perfect thing to take your mind off this."

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

I regretted it the second I said yes, and I regretted it even more right now.

I had never been the biggest fan of parties, mostly because I was used to constantly getting smacked in the face with the truth that Roman was a bit of a whore (an understatement). So as I stood on the front porch with Peter later that night, surrounded by his friends as I listened to them talk about football (I wasn't paying attention, so I wasn't actually sure of the subject), I couldn't help but feel that same dread as before. I knew that Roman was my boyfriend now, that he wasn't upstairs with some random girl at this party, but the smell of alcohol yanked me right back to the memories. Actually, he wasn't even here at all.

Clutching the empty can of my finished drink, I gently yanked at the hem of Peter's sweater to catch his attention. "This isn't helping," I mumbled, meeting his big, brown eyes. "I feel bad being at this party without Roman... If he finds out, he's going to think I'm here to cheat on him or something. He's insane like that."

Peter sighed, rolling his eyes as he pulled me aside from the group. "Look, you need to relax, okay? I have it all under control,"

"You... what?"

His mouth pulled into a straight line, realizing he had said too much. Again. "Remember what I said about Roman not being here?"

Oh no. Peter had watched too many rom-coms. "For fuck's sake," I breathed, feeling my heart speed up. "Please don't say you told the both of us to come here?"

As annoying as the situation already was, Peter only made it worse by grinning in my face. He shrugged, brushing the severity off; "Last time I saw him, he was playing beer-pong,"

I was two seconds away from wrapping my fingers around Peter's neck and strangling him to death. "So Roman is running around this party drunk, and maybe also high on coke again while he's ignoring me?" Now, I was even closer to ripping my hair out of my follicles; "Oh, what an amazing idea this was, Peter! What a genius you are, this is just fantastic!"

Peter huffed, placing a condescending hand on my shoulder, squeezing it. "He's not high, okay? Just go find him, preferably before he falls over in the pool. I've let him marinade for long enough."

I grimaced-- "Marinade?" I needed to learn to stop trying to decrypt whatever Peter was saying. It never made sense, anyway. "First of all, fuck you. And second..." I took a deep breath, realizing what I was about to do; "... Wish me luck."

My head started pounding to the same rhythm as the song blasting through the speakers when I made my way inside and waded through the crowd. I hated that I was in this situation in the first place, hated that I hadn't spoken to my boyfriend in about twenty-four hours, but most of all...

I hated Roman Godfrey.

I hated the way he made me feel, hated how crazy I had become in my pursuit of him, hated, hated, hated him. However, amid my rage storm, I got a whiff of the scent of cinnamon cigarettes-- that brought me out of the inferno. I could recognize that, mixed with Roman's cologne, anywhere. I instinctively turned, realizing I had passed by the door to the kitchen, and I could be sure my eyes nor sense of smell were deceiving me as I now stood frozen, staring up at my boyfriend's broad shoulders.

Roman's back was turned to me, but I could see that he was playing another round of beer-pong with a couple of friends scattered around the table. He hadn't noticed me, and I made sure he wouldn't. Still, the one person that caught my eye, was the girl by the counter next to where Roman was standing. I hid my body around the corner, peeking in past the door to catch another glimpse of the girl--

Fuck. It was Jessica. The girl Roman had flirted with to make me jealous the same day I told Letha I had feelings for him. Everything about her made me sick; the way she was dangling her long legs off the counter, staring up at him with literal hearts in her eyes, and how she twirled her blonde hair around her pinky as she tried to catch his attention with multiple calls of his name.

Roman seemed calm, unbothered, until he finally acknowledged her with an annoyed hum. It was only when he turned to face her, having just finished his turn in the game, that I saw that he was now pulling a cigarette out of his signature red box. I let out a shaky sigh of relief as I spotted my hair ties still hanging around his wrist, but I didn't get much time with my comfort before Jessica spoke up.

Her voice was so painfully nasal; "So are you really seeing her?"

Roman's brows drew together as he balanced a cigarette between his slender fingers. God, how I missed his hands on me. "Who?"

Jessica said my name, followed by a pout. "If it's true, then that's really fucking unexpected. I have English lit with her, and she doesn't seem like your type,"

Had I not been desperate to hear Roman's answer, I would've grabbed the nearby lamp and bashed her head in-- alcohol didn't seem to have the best effect on my thoughts tonight. Still, Roman didn't react much, now patting down his pockets for his lighter. "Yeah, I'm seeing her. She's my girl,"

She's my girl. It echoed in my head over and over. My girl.

However, Jessica didn't seem too pleased with this revelation. She rolled her eyes, letting go of her hair; "She's not even a cheerleader,"

"And? I'm tired of you lot,"

"Romie, come on!" The nickname nearly made me puke in my mouth, effectively wiping my smile off my face. I watched as Jessica proceeded to reach out and put a hand on his arm, pursing her lips like a dumb fucking bimbo-- "I don't think a girl like that could handle you... sexually."

Ew! I wanted to slam my head against the door. Would that relieve the pain of hearing this conversation?

But Jessica continued; "Everyone knows she's been crazy about you for some time now. Everyone except Letha knew, actually, but that girl is more gullible than a lamb! But you must be aware that your girlfriend thinks you walk on water? You're dating the epitome of your fucking stalker. But does that turn you on, maybe?"

Roman blinked twice before brushing Jessica's hand off with a silent scoff (finally). He found his lighter in his back pocket, lighting his cigarette as he rolled his eyes. "Shut your filthy whore mouth," he grumbled, cig sitting between his lips. When he was done lighting it, he held the lighter out dangerously close to Jessica's face-- "I'll burn your disgusting extensions right off."

She didn't seem too phased by it on the outside, but I could see the slight tremble in her hands as she now gripped the counter. Was this how Roman talked to other girls? How had I not noticed this before? "No need," Jessica said, gulping. "I can see you're taking her... seriously." She cleared her throat, letting out a shaky breath as Roman moved away. Jessica didn't have much time with her usual clean air before he blew the smoke from his cigarette in her face, and she quickly fell into a coughing fit.

I realized what I was watching when Roman smiled with evil glee at the sight of her pain. The version of Roman he used to be. It felt like I had opened a portal back to two months ago, before anything between us had happened and he was running around stabbing people with needles to get a rush.

"Of course I'm taking her seriously," Roman said, letting the cigarette rest between his lips. "I actually like her this time, unlike anything I've ever felt for you. She's sweet, and you're like... maggots crawling out from the depths of hell compared to her."

... Ouf.

Jessica didn't seem to be taking this very well. Her blue eyes hardened, traces of tears welling up in her eyes as her grip on the counter tightened to the point where her knuckles started to whiten-- "You're lovely tonight, as always," she mumbled, hurt. Her voice grew bitter; "But where is your girl, then? Did you leave her at home to come here alone?

Roman exhaled the smoke through his nose with one quick breath, turning to his friends when they called his name. He was thrown the beer-pong ball, and he effectively ignored Jessica's questions to play his turn in the game.

His lack of answers seemed to give her hope that he might stray. Jessica sat forward on the counter, drying any traces of welled-up tears as she lit up. "Oh, Romie," she purred-- I nearly threw up in my mouth again. "It's nice to see you don't change."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Roman turned to her, brows drawn together.

Jessica sighed, once again reaching out to rest her hand on his bicep. The worst part was when she gave it a little squeeze and her eyes locked on him-- fuck. "One girl will never be enough for you. You're aware of that, right?" She moved further to the edge of the counter (could she not fall off already?), batting her lashes; "If you're here tonight because you're not satisfied, I know a few ways to... satisfy you."

That was it. This was sickening. Had I not been so nervous to hear Roman's response, I would've lunged forward and slammed her empty head down to the floor. However, I could only press my body against the wall I was hiding behind, listening to the dampening of my breath as my heart thumped harshly against my ribs-- this was torture. This was complete and utter torture.

I'm waiting for you unbearably.

Unbearably.

This was unbearable.

It felt as though my chest was caving in on itself, threatening to make me a ball of nothing again, until Roman finally moved; gripping Jessica's hand with two fingers, he removed her off of him as though he was disgusted to even be touching her. "Are you maybe a little hard of hearing? Perhaps you hit your head really hard when you were younger, I have no idea, but I'll make it nice and comprehensible for you, okay?" He exhaled another cloud of smoke, fogging up Jessica's face as he leaned in dangerously close, lowering his voice as he spoke; "I don't want you or your cheerleaders, and I never will again. Never."

I was two seconds away from fainting out of sheer happiness-- my cheeks reddened. This was everything I had ever hoped to hear from him, and my anxieties floated out of my body with my next sigh of relief. I was ready to step into the kitchen and save Roman from this situation, hoping he'd be happy to see me now that he'd had this conversation about his feelings for me, but my plans were abruptly stopped when I heard a familiar voice call out my name.

My anxiety zapped itself right back into me as I froze to my spot, waiting for the wall to swallow me whole, never to be seen again. No, no, no!

I could only watch as Daniel approached me, giddy as ever with a beer in his hand. Were the Gods above playing tricks on me, perhaps? It was clear that he was drunk, and he tried to get his blonde hair out of his eyes repeatedly as he now stood before me, a broad grin on his face. "Well, don't you look nice,"

Why was he speaking so loudly? I was afraid Roman would hear and come out to check if his suspicions were correct. "Thanks," I mumbled, anxiously wavering back and forth on my feet as I pondered whether to flee or not. "Look, Daniel, you shouldn't--"

"What, talk to you?" He leaned down a little, his mood immediately shifting as he said my name once more like venom. It was clear in his eyes that he had come up to me with an argument in mind. "Don't tell me the rumours are true and you're actually with that guy?"

Oh, how little I wanted to have this conversation. I so desperately didn't want to. Not with Roman at hearing distance. "Yeah, I am,"

Daniel snorted, rolling his eyes as he pulled back with a pretentious chuckle. With the way he was swaying, I could see that he'd had at least five beers or so. It explained the disgusting ramble of words that ensued; "Shit... Didn't think you were brainless like that. You're just a dumb fucking slut just like the rest of them, aren't you? Can't believe I ever thought you were different... Nice guys truly finish last, don't they?"

Nice? I grimaced. Did this guy genuinely think he was nice? I was shocked to realize I even thought so of him at one point. My lips parted in shock; I hadn't heard him talk like this before. This was nauseating. Still, I knew I had to snap back-- I was about to speak up, protect myself unlike how I had handled myself during the whole Letha-mess, but I didn't get a chance to.

I didn't even have to look to know who was now standing in the door to the kitchen, leaning against the frame with his arms crossed over his chest. Roman's eyes narrowed, locking in on Daniel's with a chilling look; "What did you just say to her?" he said, voice low, dangerous.

Daniel's smirk was immediately wiped off his face. "Fuck-- Fuck off, Godfrey. This is none of your business,"

"None of my business?" Roman echoed, tilting his head to the side as he feigned confusion. "Nah, that's not how this is gonna go down." He stepped away from the door, nearing Daniel with threatening steps. "You get a little drunk, and suddenly forget you fucking crumble at the sight of me? You're shaking, Goldman, but you have balls enough to insult my girl?"

Now that Roman had pointed it out, I immediately saw it. Daniel's hand had a slight tremble as he clutched the can of beer harder with his next words; "You know she could do so much better than you, right?"

I held my breath, watching Roman's every movement. At this point, I was scared Daniel had hit too big of a homerun on that insult.

I wondered when Roman would-- oh, there it was. With one last step forward, he managed to yank Daniel forward with a choking grip around the collar of his shirt. I felt my breath escape me with a gasp, unsure whether to intervene or not. "Roman, don't!--"

It was too late. Roman wasn't hearing me. Selective hearing. "If you wanna go, Goldman, then we're gonna go!" he raged, tightening his grip as he yanked Daniel forward like a ragdoll. "Don't be a fucking pussy, fight me if you're so keen on walking around with a black eye!"

I was both mortified and scared as I watched Daniel's face turn a peculiar shade of purple. I had never seen such a prominent look of fear in my life. His hands were clawing at Roman's as he sputtered incoherent squeaks, and after five seconds too long, Daniel was let out of the death grip. It took even less time for him to sprint out of our sight.

Roman turned to me, brows still drawn together in fury. He was catching his breath, and he was not yet out of fight mode when he practically barked at me; "And since when have you been at this stupid party?!"

"Ask Peter!" I squeaked. "It was his plan, all of it! He wanted us to talk!" Watching the confusion spread in Roman's green eyes, I cleared my throat before I continued; "Actually, I want us to talk as well... Could we please just?--"

Within a split second, he was gone. Gone. I stood by the wall, lips parting in complete and utter confusion-- how had he managed to disappear like that? Run off like that? Suddenly, my mind shot in a passage from The Avoidable Vampirism;

The classic traits of a upir:

Enhanced strength

Heightened senses

Mesmerization

Unnatural speed

-- No, stop it! I had to physically smack my head to snap out of it this time. Roman wasn't a fucking upir, he was just in withdrawal as Peter said!

... Right?

The alcohol was certainly not helping my state right now.

As I stood glued to the wall like the biggest wallflower known to man, I pondered the question that had haunted me all day; why was Roman so scared to talk to me? After I had heard how he spoke of me to Jessica, and how he had just called me his girl to Daniel along with the whole fight for my honour, it surely couldn't be a question of his feelings towards me?

This seemed to be an evening of many flashbacks; Letha's words were suddenly ringing in my ears-- "It usually helps to dig into what set him off. And then, when you think you have the answer, rip it apart and look through the pieces,"

... Fine. Let's start.

What had set him off? It was clearly that I didn't want to sleep with him last night, right?

Okay-- Now I had to rip it apart and look through the pieces.

"Aren't you breaking up with me?" he'd asked earlier today. Roman seemed genuinely confused that I wasn't there to dump him. Had he really expected me to discard of him so quickly over a simple miscommunication?

Then it hit me that Roman might be crazy enough to have avoided me all along because he thought the next conversation would be the one where I'd finish the job.

With a loud groan, I started my search around the party. Idiot! I was going to find this man no matter what. If I had to pin him down and scream some sense into him, so be it.

He wasn't downstairs— I could exclude that after a quick swipe of the floor. I somehow managed to make my way through the dense crowd on the stairs, now checking every room. To be honest, I was terrified of walking in on something I didn't want to see, but a tiny part of me thought it might even be good for me to see just a snippet-- I didn't know much about real sex, anyway. Still, I let out a relieved sigh when I scoured all the rooms without having violated my vision.

But my relief didn't last long. I allowed my shoulders to slump as I came to a halt, realizing I had circled the upper floor with no trace of him. The deafening music was starting to hurt my ears, and I was about to cover them when I suddenly heard a loud bang coming from the closet to my right followed by a breathy, angry shit.

Oh my. Gotcha. I approached the door with careful steps, holding back a beaming smile as I knocked twice; "Roman...?"

I heard him shuffling around, a short groan following; "... Nope,"

It took a lot of concentration to not burst out into a fit of laughter. It felt as though all my anger left my body, unable to concentrate on anything other than how ridiculously cute he was when he was drunk like this. "Can I come in?"

"... That's what he said,"

"Come in? I think you might've gotten it a little twisted,"

I could almost hear him rolling his eyes; "Who are you to argue, virgin?"

Enough was enough. With a small creak, I opened the door to the closet--

Oh.

This was certainly not the sight I expected to see. Roman's green eyes immediately found mine, big with embarrassment. There he was, splayed out on the floor of the tiny closet with a hot pink crop top on his head. I assumed it had landed on him after he fell over, and I tried to take a mental image for later amusement.

I was about to laugh-- However, as I closed the door behind me and stared down at Roman's flushed face, almost the same colour as the ridiculous pink crop top, I just melted. Easy as that. All the pent-up anger, all the frustration I wanted to take out on him, it all liquified into molten lava and became one with the earth.

What a mess he was. What an absolute, utter mess. Roman's green eyes were big, huge even, as he stared up at me, his breath coming out in small, ragged heaves. He looked terrified of my next words, like he was bracing for a good verbal beating--

I crouched down, making space between his long legs that practically took up the whole closet. With careful movements, I pulled the crop top off his head and cupped his pretty face; "Rome," I cooed. "You thought I was going to break up with you?"

It felt like I was talking to a child. I was aware I risked Roman exploding on me for taking that tone with him, but I figured he was too drunk to really sense it. "Yeah," he breathed, keening against my touch. "Makes sense that you'd want to."

Fuck, he was unbearably cute, like a lost little puppy. "No, it doesn't," I murmured. Why was it so hard for him to understand? "I'm not breaking up with you. Is that why you've been avoiding me today? Were you worried I was going to do that?"

Almost like a child, Roman nodded. "I just... don't want to lose you. But I fucked up again," he whispered, practically pouting. "I was so mean. Last night and today."

I stroked my thumb over his cheek, watching his response to my attempts at comfort. Something told me he hadn't been held like this before. "Roman... You're not losing me any time soon, and you were obviously a little hurt too. I guess it's a... vulnerable thing to initiate. You're allowed to feel what you feel,"

"But it was wrong,"

"What was?"

"My feelings," he mumbled. "It's just-- I'm not used to caring about a girl like this. Previously, if I didn't get my way, I could leave with no repercussions. But this time, it hit me about ten minutes later on the highway that this was you and not some random girl. You. And I was just so consumed with the urge to... ugh, I don't want to say it out loud, but you know. It gets unbearable at times. I haven't wanted anyone like this before, I just don't know how the fuck to behave!"

I was sure my cheeks were burning. Holy fuck. "Ah... I see," My knees got tired from crouching, so I sat down on the little free space left on the floor. "Look, your feelings aren't wrong. They never are. Your feelings are your feelings. But what I don't get is that I told you I wasn't up for... sex simply because my parents were on the other side of the wall. I would totally be up for it if they weren't. Did you not register that, maybe?"

"I don't know, but... it's not really about the sex. I guess it got me wondering whether you're just a little shy, or if you secretly don't want to be with me anymore," Roman took my hands into his before his gaze shied away. His voice lowered into a barely audible whisper as he closed his eyes and leaned his head against the nearby wall; "You didn't once say you wanted me too. I guess I just concluded you didn't want me at all."

I fought the instinct to freeze. I saw his point, recognized his anxiety (and severe attachment issues), yet I needed to point out one very simple truth; "But... I'm crazy about you. You know I want you,"

"No, I don't," he breathed. "You make me feel like a fucking rapist."

"A... What?!" I gave his hands a harsh squeeze-- "Roman, what are even you saying?"

He scoffed, eyeing me with his head still leaning against the wall. Hiccuping from all the alcohol, he spoke; "I'm always on you like a fucking dog in heat. You never initiate, and I'm constantly worrying whether I'm taking advantage or not. And to make that clear, that's not what I want to do,"

All of this was beyond shocking to hear. Was this maybe also the supposed withdrawal speaking? "Rome, you're not taking advantage. Not at all! I'm just... shy, I guess?" I brought one of his hands up to my mouth, pressing my lips against his knuckles. "I never thought you needed to hear me say it too. I'm sorry."

Surprisingly, Roman pouted-- "Say it, then," he whined. Had he been standing, I was sure he'd stomp his foot like a toddler.

I couldn't help but smile. I liked whiny-drunk Roman. "Say what, Rome?"

"Spit it out,"

"Would you stop running away from me then?"

"... Yes,"

I took a deep breath, suppressing a nervous giggle. Roman's green eyes drilled into me, holding me still as I tried to find the courage to say it to his face. It was nearly impossible, and I felt my cheeks flush a rather peculiar shade of pink, similar to Roman's alcohol-flush. And also the hot pink crop top. I was definitely stealing that one.

I let go of Roman's hands, crawling over to straddle his lap. My arms draped around his neck, and he shifted as he looked up at me with those gorgeous, green eyes of his. My Roman. "You already know I'm crazy about you,"

"Yeah, you tree-carving freak,"

"Hey!" Now, it was impossible not to laugh. Thankfully, he laughed with me. "But sure, I'll take it. I carved our initials into a tree, and I'd do it all over again. And you know why?"

Roman's eyes practically sparkled; "Why?"

I lowered my face to hover right above his, feeling his hot breath against my parted lips. "Because I crave you. Carnally," I whispered, watching his pupils rapidly widen. "What am I if not yours? Yours to take, yours to claim, yours to... fuck."

Roman's signature smirk was back, shinier than ever. "Now, now, don't be shy with it," he purred, his arms snaking around my waist to pull me flush against him. "Say more."

Fucking hell. There was certainly no space to hold back any longer. "Yeah, you want more?" I had to bite back a smirk of my own. "Don't be a fucking brat, then. Kiss me if you do."

Roman's eyes widened, not expecting me to say anything remotely close to that. Still, his lips parted as his smirk morphed into a blinding grin. With one smooth move, he ran one hand up into my hair, pulling me in for the shortest, sweetest kiss known to man. "I'm impatient," he said. "Go on."

"Brat," It felt nice to finally say that out loud. From the first time I had a proper conversation with him, that word had been stuck in my mind.

Roman rolled his eyes, letting me laugh into the needy kiss that followed. It didn't take long before I melted, relishing in the soft pillows of his lips against mine, the feeling I had longed for ever since he stormed off my roof last night. "I want you," I said, mouthing my words into the kiss. "So bad. So, so bad."

Roman moaned-- "More,"

My hands went up into his hair, fingers reaching for the tips of his dark locks to press him further against me as the kiss deepened. I had never felt this desperate before in my life. Still, I somehow found the strength to pull away; I got an idea. "No. We're playing a little game first,"

Roman groaned, glaring at me as he rested his head against the wall. "For fuck's sake," he mumbled. "Now?"

"Now," I placed my hands on his chest, unable to hold my laugh. My little idea was genius. "Have you noticed where we are?"

"... At a party?"

"Where?"

"In a closet?--" Roman's words came to a halt as his eyes widened, and a knowing grin spread across his plush lips. "Oh my."

I hummed, pressing my fingers into his chest. Right now, I was sure I had adopted the classic Roman-smirk; "Up for a round of seven minutes in heaven?"

"... Isn't it a little blasphemous to play without the bottle?" Roman proceeded to laugh, rubbing circles into my thighs. "Actually, fuck yeah. I’m up for it.”

"Seven minutes," I purred, grabbing my phone and putting on a timer. "You once said that seven minutes with you were enough to show everything I needed to know about being with you in that way..."

To be honest, I had no idea what had come over me. Was it perhaps the alcohol? But the intrigue shimmering in Roman's keen eyes told me all I needed to know-- I watched his pupils expand as the hands I had rested against his chest started traveling down his body. And Jessica thought I couldn't handle him sexually? Hah! "It seems it's my turn to show how it would be with me, no?"

Roman's lips parted, staring up at me in disbelief; "If you're just teasing me now, I'm going to die on the spot. I swear. My death will be on your hands,"

I could only laugh, biting down on my lip to lower my voice. "Don't you dare," I said, slowly reaching for the clasp of his belt.

Watching the widening of Roman's big, green eyes never failed to amuse me, especially not now. "Baby," he breathed, his lips curving into a smile. "Don't fuck with me, I swear--"

"Am not," After unbuckling Roman's belt, I decided to tease him by trailing my hands away from the zip of his pants, my fingers ghosting over his hard-on. It seemed the excitement was getting to him already, and to my surprise, I could feel him hardening beneath my palms.

The loud music was so far away now, just as everything else was-- My mind was even further away, possibly residing on the planet Neptune, because how the hell had I managed to convince myself I knew how to do this?

Fuck it-- it can't be that hard, right?

Certainly not harder than Roman was now, anyway.

This was an enigma to me, all of it. I could only go off instinct; and just as I was about to slide my hand beneath the band of his boxers, Roman grabbed my hand. "Hold on," he breathed, bringing my palm to his lips. "Step one is to never go anywhere dry." His green eyes locked on mine, not breaking eye contact as he placed several wet kisses against my palm, slicking it. Shivers ran down my spine as I felt his tongue swipe along my skin, because fuck, this was intense-- my breath hitched. Roman's soft laugh rang in my ears as he let go of my hand, giving back the control.

Fuck. My heart was pounding. Were my hands shaking? I had no idea-- it felt as though I had blacked out for a few seconds, and when Roman pulled me into a heated kiss and brought me back to my senses, my fingers were gently brushing against the hard tip of his cock.

I could feel Roman's breath hitch just slightly against my lips, and it immediately made my cheeks burn. What the fuck was I doing? I so desperately hoped no one would walk in on us like this, me straddling him with his dick in my hand. That would certainly only taint my reputation further-- no, actually, fuck that. I wanted to stay connected like this forever, Roman's soft lips moving against mine with a need I didn't remember in him.

It took a lot of willpower to break the kiss even just for a second, but it was too damn fucking dark in this stupid closet. I watched as Roman's lashes fluttered, how his chest raised in heaving motions, how the vial of my blood rested against the peak of his sternum-- I decided to go for the wish to kiss him right there.

Roman's skin was so unbelievably soft. There was no flavour to it as I swiped my tongue against his collarbone, not even a trace of alcohol from his perfume, and this was the moment it dawned on me that this might be my favourite place to kiss him. I didn't often have access, but when I did, I could feel the soft raise of his shoulders with his every breath-- and fuck, how I loved his shoulders. I finally wrapped my fingers around his length, deciding not to toy with him any longer.

He let out a shaky breath just as I sucked down on his collarbone to leave a mark; Roman was long gone now. His head lolled to the side, his breath escaping him with a short huff. "Fuck," he whispered, bringing his hand up to twist into the nape of my neck, pulling me away from him to press the soft pillows of his mouth against mine in another hot, needy kiss.

This was certainly a big difference to the last time we had played this game. We had barely kissed properly, and our lips had only grazed each other compared to whatever this was. I couldn't believe how unbelievably scared I had been the first time.

I smiled into the kiss, remembering our first.

Roman cursed against my lips, his hips bucking just slightly into my grip around his cock. With his free hand, he placed his on top of mine, guiding me to pick up my pace.

I realized my heart was almost thumping to the exact same pace as the music downstairs-- "Is this okay?" I whispered, relishing in the short breaths of pleasure spilling from his mouth.

Roman shot me a look, although it didn't look as intimidating as he probably intended; with his lids halfway closed, the hunger for me shone through. "You know damn well,"

It was impossible not to smile. God, I was so crazy about this man. "Rome?"

A hum.

I leaned in closer, pressing a sweet kiss against his ear; "I want you so bad," I whispered, feeling his breath hitch as I kissed down his jaw. "I need you to know that. Rome, I always want you." Never in a million years did I think I'd ever see him like this, panting beneath me, pre-cum spilling from the slit of his cock. Never in my wildest dreams. But he had driven me near mad with his stupidity these past twenty-four hours, so I had no problem bringing him down to the depths of vulnerability with me-- finally, we had switched places.

Roman's hands traveled up my thighs, giving my ass a proper squeeze as he groaned just slightly; "Want you too," he breathed, letting his head rest against the wall as I worked my digits around his length. His lips parted, his eyes shut as his lashes fluttered just slightly; "Always. Always want— hah, want you. You know me."

Had I not been so taken with the sheer beauty of him right now, I would've swooned. I was shocked I hadn't fainted from how hard my heart was beating, anyway. "I adore you, Rome. Do you know that?"

A small yeah was Roman's only reply, his head rolling back and forth, thighs clenching, cock twitching. He was close. His next words were rushed, quick; "Fuck, where do I...? Fuck--"

"Don't think about it," I murmured, my free hand running gently through his hair. Slowly, I reached for the pink crop top nearby; this was my only solution at the moment. "Just enjoy."

Roman practically whimpered; "Shit, shit, gonna--"

I watched as he threw his head back, panting hard as he spilled into the top. I felt his warm cum running down the inside of it as I stroked him through his high. "Fuck, fuck--" Roman was rambling at this point, failing to steady his breath through it.

My lips parted, feeling as though I had bitten into the forbidden fruit. The image before me gave me a high, unlike anything I had ever had before. It was probably similar to the feeling Roman used to achieve through cocaine use. I took another quick mental snapshot, knowing this was a sight I wanted to keep for later-- only in case of emergencies, of course. I couldn't help but feel a little proud that I had figured out how to do this stuff to him.

Roman blinked twice, his mind slowly returning to his body. He laughed a little at the sight of the hot pink crop top, shaking his head. "Damn," he breathed. "I'm a little horrified I didn't last seven minutes."

Oh, silly boy-- "Nah, I'm glad you didn't. My hand would be cramping up," I leaned forward with a soft giggle, kissing the tip of Roman's nose as he let out a sigh of relief. "And I also proved my damn point."

He blinked up at me as I pulled away. "Which was...?"

The timer rung-- "Seven minutes are more than enough,"

"Right. That's my line," Roman tucked himself back into his jeans with a huff, laughing softly in a state of denial. "Definitely didn't expect this tonight... Good job." The corners of his mouth slowly curved upwards as he placed a sweet kiss against my cheek. "I'm just so damn glad we're not breaking up."

I had forgotten about that situation for a few minutes, and being reminded of it again was like being slapped out of a nap. "Of course we're not, Roman," I kissed the tip of his nose as I rolled up the crop top-- that felt wrong on all accounts. "If you get all manic about something like that again, please don't shut me out. I nearly went mad."

Roman's pupils dilated further as he reached for the vial of my blood around his neck, twirling it around his finger. "Yeah, we can't break up... Or else that poor tree would've been vandalized for nothing,"

I rolled my eyes. He was never going to let that go, was he? "Alright, that's enough," I mumbled, watching as Roman brought the vial to his lips to press a short kiss against my blood-- it felt odd but intimate. Was he maybe still a little drunk? "Let's get you home, okay? I'll drive your car." With shaky steps, I got up from his lap, bunching up the crop top in one hand.

Roman hiccuped-- drunk. It was confirmed. "I don't want to," he whined.

"Come on, Rome, we can't stay in this cramped up fucking closet all night!--"

"Well, what are you gonna do? Throw me over your shoulder and carry me downstairs?"

For fuck's sake. It was impossible not to laugh at that mental image. "We can't stay here any longer! Peter's gonna think we're fucking somewhere, and I certainly don't want to be known as the girl that has sex at parties!--"

"My mom is out of town," Roman said, effectively cutting me off. "Sleep over."

My eyes widened. I knew what that meant. Clutching the damp crop top in my hand, I felt the green of his gaze swallow me whole; "Come on. It'll be fun," Roman got up from the floor, tilting his head a little as he slowly inched forward, making my back hit the wall with the two only steps there were possible to take in this closet. He continued; "Nothing has to happen, but I just... I want to roll around in bed with you in the morning. No interruptions, no parents, nothing. Just us."

I was shocked I didn't become a puddle of mush on the floor. "Just us?"

"Just us," Roman breathed, leaning down to press a short kiss against my lips. But what came next was unexpected; "... And my pet tarantula."

"What?!"

Roman only laughed, his pupils widening with pleasure at the sight of my terror. Some things never change. "Just kidding, baby," he purred, placing a hand on the small of my back as he opened the closet door. And before I had the chance to properly step out of it, he leaned down to whisper against my ear; "It's actually a giant centipede. Lovely pet."

I nearly squirmed out of his grip, shivering. "Please tell me you're joking!"

Seriously, when will I ever learn? Roman continued to laugh, waving to a few people who passed us by in the corridor as we walked down the hall. "Of course I am,"

"I'm not leaving with you if you have some creepy animal there, I swear!"

"Fine, fine!" He kissed the top of my head, and I felt him smile against my hair. "There are no scary animals there... Just me."

Before I had the opportunity to answer, Roman groaned loudly as he glanced at the crowded stairs when we approached, rolling his eyes. "Ugh, why do people always crowd the goddamn stairs?" He turned back to me; "I just need to find Peter and swipe my keys--"

"Why does he have your keys?"

"... I was threatening to jam them into the side of this guy's head earlier, but that's not important," Roman shot me a charming smile as though he hadn't just said that. "But just hold onto me, okay? I'll wade us through."

So that's what I did; I clutched onto Roman's hand, feeling his long fingers wrapping around mine as he made way through the crowd, occasionally turning to greet a few people he knew. I was so damn ready to get to his place, to lie down on a bed, and get away from this loud music. Still, a part of me knew we wouldn't be able to stay away from each other tonight, and I felt my chest swell with warmth at the thought of what might happen. What would happen.

But just as I was finally relaxed again and the two of us almost made it down the stairs, I felt another hand on my shoulder the same second Roman turned away to say hi to a friend of his. I turned, gasping just slightly at the shock of a cold touch, and the rest of my breath followed as it dawned on me who I was facing.

Letha's green eyes were wide, almost as though she had seen a ghost. For a second there, I thought she could read my mind and understand why I was clutching onto a damp crop top. It was still warm-- why was I finding that hot right now? God, I was going insane. But I knew that the sight of Roman and I together would never be a pleasant one for Letha, so I stared back at her with the same bewilderment-- why had she stopped me?

Letha's following words were almost icy to the touch, hollow to the ear; "Was I right?"

It felt as though my world stilled. Time stilled. Just for a second, I felt as though I could wade my free hand through the coldness of her phrase, and I could wave away the mirage. She was concerned, curious. Had she genuinely wanted to help me get through this fight with Roman?

I realized that tonight might be a night of many firsts. My first handjob, my first... time (possibly), and my first step of forgiveness. "Yeah," I breathed. "You were. Thank you."

Letha's face softened as a relieved sigh escaped her, nodding her head slowly. It had been a long time since the last time she had heard those words from me. "Any time,"

Had Roman not squeezed my hand, I was sure I'd continue standing there, just staring into the eyes of my previous best friend. They looked so, so similar-- Had Letha not been blonde, I would've mistaken them for siblings. Snapping out of it, I turned to my boyfriend who was too busy scowling at his cousin to notice how calm I was about meeting her. "Let's go," he mumbled, repressed jealousy dripping from his voice as another squeeze of my fingers ensued.

"Yeah... Let's,"

Chapter 10: fuck-me eyes and first times

Summary:

You've been unlucky with your first times all your life-- But tonight, you're sleeping with the equivalent of your shooting star.

Chapter Text

The first time I broke a bone, I kicked my foot into the wall in a fit of rage.

The first time I got an A on a test, I cheated by writing the answers under my skirt.

And the first time I lost a friend? That was the story of how I got here in the first place.

To say my track record for first times was bad, was an understatement. I didn't see myself as an angel of the world. However, as I glanced to the side for a brief moment at an intersection, I looked directly at the man who'd often joke he was the devil. Roman had spread out in the passenger seat, still a little drunk as his long legs rested against the dashboard. It didn't matter how many times I told him to take them down, that if I were to crash his car he'd fold in two and die-- he didn't care.

We were still a little intoxicated from the party, but I was in a better condition than him, which was why I was driving; something he'd never let me do if he wasn't in this state. Roman's head lolled back against his seat, his eyes closing as he hummed along to the music. Space Song by Beach House was always my favorite song to drive to at night, and I was glad he seemed to like it as well.

The first time I heard this song, I had been driving home after getting introduced to Letha at a party. I was over the moon, happy to have finally found a person in this wretched town that I could enjoy the company of. I had been so dreadfully bored of all the others.

Letha was a good hugger. A good listener-- never scared to tell the truth, especially as we grew closer.

"Roman is my baby cousin, I love him to death, but damn he can be annoying," she had said, smiling at me as she leaned against the kitchen counter. "The amount of friends I have lost to him is just crazy. Every single one seems to fall over like dominoes whenever he's around, and honestly? I don't get it. Maybe it's because we're related and all, but there has to be a fucking limit to how many times something like this can happen? How many times can he sleep with my friends and get away with it? Him doing that is the same as me sleeping with Peter, it's just not okay! I would never fucking do that! This situation is becoming hysterical, to be honest."

I remember frowning-- "Hysterical?"

"Yeah... If I wasn't so pissed at him, I'd just laugh at the absurdity," Letha's green eyes remained kind despite the heaviness of the topic. "But at the end of the day, I'm glad I get to keep you to myself. My previous friends were nothing compared to you."

Letha's words were sweet, but something felt off. I smiled as I spoke, hoping to keep my query a light one; "What do you mean, keep me to yourself? Gonna chain me up, Letha?" I gave her shoulder a nudge as she laughed.

"Not like that, you freak! I mean that Roman doesn't seem interested in you at all, so I feel safe that you'll stay. And if he were to be, you'd never do anything like that to me," She put away her empty can of beer, and something in her eyes shifted just a smidge-- I wouldn't have caught it if my senses hadn't been sharpened by the mention of his lack of interest in me.

"... Right?" Letha asked, urging a response. It seemed to dawn on her that she sounded on the brink of bitterness, and she broke out into an even wider smile to compensate; "You don't seem like the type to sleep with my cousin, but maybe I'm wrong?"

"Never," was what I had answered that night.

Never... Gosh, I was delusional to think I could behave.

Once again, I glanced at Roman at the next red light, watching the way one strand of hair strayed from his stylings and laid in a soft wave over his forehead. He opened his big, green eyes, smirking as he realized he was being watched-- "Eyes on the road,"

It was embarrassing how fast I blushed. I quickly nodded, gripping the steering wheel harder as I fixated on the red light above us. "Was it the next intersection I needed to get off on?" I asked, hoping not to linger on the subject of my peeking. "Could you maybe turn on the GPS on my phone just in case you fall asleep?"

"I'm not sleeping," Roman prompted, holding out his hand to take my phone.

As I reached for it in my back pocket, I felt it vibrate as the lights turned green. I gave Roman my phone, in a rush to not miss the light even though we were the only ones on the highway. "Who's calling?"

Roman didn't answer me-- I pieced together who it was when he started greeting my mom.

Oh no.

I freed one hand from the steering wheel, trying to get a hold of my phone as Roman quietly laughed at my attempt. I didn't succeed; "Yeah, she's here," he said, grinning as he motioned for me to keep driving. "I hoped to have her stay over at my place tonight, as my mother is desperate to meet your lovely daughter."

I rolled my eyes, mouthing a simple fuck you. Roman had to bite down on his lip to suppress a laugh-- we both knew his mom was out of town and that his intentions were far from anything as pure as to introduce me to her.

My mom seemed flustered by his pleasantries on the other side of the phone, but I couldn't make out the specifics of what she was saying. It didn't sound like she was objecting, though.

Roman nodded along as he turned down the music on the stereo and (finally) removed his legs off the dashboard. "No, of course, I wouldn't dream of giving your daughter any alcohol! Yes-- Yes, we were at a party just now, but we're both sober as rocks!" He glanced at me, mischief dancing in the green of his eyes.

The look on his face now was priceless. Although he was lying to my mom right up her face (her ear?), he still looked damn charming as always.

"Uh-huh..." Roman mumbled, now reciting his phone number at her request. "We'll probably be up having dinner, so you can call me anytime if you have any questions!-- Yes, I know it's late to have dinner, but my mother is European like that. Your daughter is in good hands, don't worry!"

I rolled my eyes once more, knowing how fond my mom was of him and how easily she'd eat all of this up. When Roman finally got off the call, he broke out into a string of laughter-- "Your mom is so damn sweet, but I can tell she's terrified we'll have sex. It seems you've taken after her,"

"I'm not terrified!" I whined, turning left to get off the highway.

He snorted; "I was two seconds away from telling her I have a stash of condoms, and that she shouldn't worry about having to take care of a mini-me when you leave for college,"

I did my best not to blush-- this conversation was getting more and more suggestive. "Shut up," I mumbled. "I'm not terrified."

Roman's eyes softened as he sat back in his seat and watched me drive his car. I knew I was giving away my true feelings regarding the matter with the way I was anxiously tapping my fingers against the steering wheel. I continued; "I just had you locked in a closet trying to convince you I'm not. It's not that big of a deal,"

"Relax, I'm just teasing you," Roman ran his fingers through his hair, gazing into the rearview mirror to check how messed up it had gotten. His red car had an open roof, after all. He sighed, trying to choose his next words wisely. "Not a big deal, you say?"

"Well..." I was unsure whether to be honest or not.

Roman nodded, looking out at all the trees passing us by. His silence was unnerving, and I turned up the music to tune it out. I couldn't stand this. Something in him switched; Maybe he was upset that I said it wasn't a big deal? Or maybe he was realizing it was a big deal to him? I needed to change the subject; "This is the right direction, no? I feel like I'm just driving deeper into the forest--"

"I've never told you this, but after the first time we kissed, I kept having the same dream where never left the seven minutes in heaven closet," Roman placed his head in the palm of his hand as he leaned his elbow against the car door, sighing. "Over and over, every night. Nearly drove me mad. And in the dream, there were no seven minutes, no time limit. So it was just you and I, and we were going at it like fucking crazy."

I held my breath, my eyes widening further with every sentence. What? Was he drunk-rambling or was this something else?

Roman sighed again, attempting to relax as he closed his eyes and stilled in his seat. Like this, I could nearly mistake him for being asleep. "It all started with me wanting to fuck you," he mumbled. "But every night, at the end of the dream, I got greedy... Because suddenly, I also wanted you to love me."

Had I not been good at keeping calm, I would've probably crashed the car into the nearest tree. I didn't get much time to process, to feel the weight of his confession, until Roman snapped out of it like a character taken straight out of an animation, now sitting up; "Turn here,"

I drove up to a huge gate, stopping the car as I tried to steady my breathing. "Roman--"

"Two seconds," he said, getting out of the car to walk up to the intercom. He was as good as normal now.

I was left still gripping the steering wheel for dear life, my mouth opening and closing as I tried to find the right words. I watched as Roman typed in a code, and the massive gate slowly opened as he jumped back into the car.

My breath was still held in my chest as I turned to him, eyes wider than plates of expensive china.

Roman glanced back at me with an innocent smile; the mood had completely switched. "Breathe," he cooed, reaching forward to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. "It's just a mansion." With a sharp intake of air, he glanced at the backseat and the crumbled-up hot pink crop top we had brought with us (stolen, actually) from the party-- "A mansion with a possibility to put that anomaly in the fucking laundry."

I turned towards it as well, returning to my mind at the sight of the obnoxious colour of the top-- Knowing I had made him cum into the fabric of it merely an hour ago still felt like a triumph.

... Was it maybe my turn, now?

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

And he was right-- this was an absolute castle of a house. I had suppressed the truth about Roman's wealth for as long as I could, not wanting to think about it in case my mind went haywire about it, but now it was smacking me in the face.

Still, Roman's hand on the small of my back was a comfort as he led me through the mansion on the most impromptu show-around I've ever witnessed. "This is the room where I learned how to shoot darts," he mumbled, pointing at the small dents in the wall. "I didn't know the darts were actually stuck to the wall and not the printed dartboard I hung up..." He bent down, picking up the painting his mother had hung up to cover the indents.

I couldn't help but laugh, clinging to his arm as we moved from room to room. The mansion was gothic, vampy, but that might've just been my imagination playing with me. The tall ceilings were intimidating, yet beautiful-- judging by my surroundings, there was no denying that everything around me cost a fortune.

I was yanked out of my trail of thoughts when Roman led me behind a red curtain by one of the big windows in the next room, and I giggled as he wrapped it around us. My back was pressed against the wall, engulfed by both the curtain and Roman's embrace; "This is where I learned how to French," he whispered, smiling as he pressed a kiss to the corner of my mouth. "And it was horrible. She fucking bit me and I squealed like a girl."

If Roman was trying to distract me from what he had said in the car, he was certainly doing a good job. The mental image of his first French kiss kept me beyond entertained, and we both continued laughing as he got us out of the wrap of the curtain.

However, it was the walk up the circular stairs that truly made it dawn on me who I was dating-- Roman Godfrey, the future heir to a billion-dollar company. Fuck. I stared up at the painting above us, the one of him and his mother posing with a rather regal-looking background. He couldn't have been more than fourteen in that picture, and I could see his classic intimidating stare through the painting and the way he clutched the chair his mother was posed on. It was clear that the boy in the painting didn't want to be there at all.

Roman turned, realizing what I was looking at; "I fucking hate that one," he grumbled, giving my hand a squeeze. "I refused to smile at that age. I look like I'm on the brink of killing myself."

"Not true," I squeezed his hand back. "Give yourself some grace. How old were you?"

"Fourteen,"

There you go. "Judging by the painting, I think we could've been friends at fourteen,"

Roman stopped in the middle of the curved stairway, his brows drawing together. "How so?"

I shrugged, trying not to focus on how much taller he was than me. If I thought about it for too long, I'd jump him. "Because I wore all black for about a year. If you refused to smile, and I refused to show any joy, I think we would've been a killer duo,"

Roman blinked twice before cracking into a chuckle. "That's unexpected,"

"Bet,"

"You're all... cute and bubbly now,"

"You think?" I wasn't sure how much I agreed. "The girl that's fucking around with her ex-best friend's cousin?"

Roman had to bite down another laugh. "What do you mean, fucking around? I haven't as much as touched you compared to how I could've,"

Oh.

Oh God.

I held back a shiver, staring up at him as he resumed leading me up the stairs. "But... you have touched me,"

"Sure," Roman proceeded to get a proper look at me in the darkness of the night when we reached the second floor. The green around his widened pupils practically shone-- it was impressively cat-like. "Impossible not to, with those fuck-me eyes of yours."

"Hey!" I wasn't sure why I was protesting, but I knew his snicker egged me on. "I don't have... that!"

I could see that Roman was on the brink of cooing at me, and he sucked in a sharp breath as he sunk his teeth into his bottom lip. I hadn't seen him this amused in a while. "Right," he purred. "You don't. Not a trace at all." With a short kiss on my forehead, he moved away from me and started walking down the dark corridor. "Keep those fuck-me eyes in the hallway, and I might let you sleep tonight."

I sighed before gearing up into a walking sprint to catch up with his long strides-- If only he knew that sleep was the last thing on my mind.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

When we finally reached Roman's bedroom, I couldn't believe the size of it. My room was nothing in comparison. I had certainly not expected the posters-- there were many rare classic horror films and some bands I was sure his mom probably loathed. However, I was surprised by the lack of half-naked models on his walls which I had always imagined; I let out a short, relieved breath. "Your room is nice,"

Roman hummed, throwing his jacket on a chair nearby. "Not too boyish for you?"

"Nah," I mumbled, walking up to the posters on the opposite wall. There were a lot of movies I hadn't seen yet-- still, I couldn't help but laugh a little when I saw The Godfather. "It's very you."

"How great that you like me, then,"

"Lucky for you, yeah," There was something about this room that I couldn't help but love-- this was where Roman woke up and fell asleep. This was where he probably spent most of his time. I wondered whether the pillows smelled of his going-out cologne or the lighter one he usually wore to school. I wondered whether he'd been caught smoking in here, whether he'd done coke with Peter on his desk, and how many girls he'd had up here. By the likes of it, I somehow doubted anything like that ever happened at his place. If he had waited this long to have me over, I decided it was highly unlikely he'd invite someone he didn't know very well.

I clasped my hands behind my back, taking long strides as I scanned the many posters on his walls.

Roman sat down on the chair by his desk, spreading out as he watched me with a smirk. "Not what you expected?"

I turned to him, my brows drawing together; "Why? Are you nervous or something?"

"I'm not nervous," Roman huffed, folding his arms over his chest. Now that I was looking straight at him, it was clear that he was. "I'm simply asking."

A knowing smile crept up my cheeks-- it felt like I had the upper hand, for once. "You're nervous,"

"Am not!"

"And now you're fidgeting,"

I was correct; Roman's right leg had given into a slight bounce. He rolled his eyes, muttering curse words under his breath. "It's not every day that I have girls up here, okay? I'm never here, stuff always happens at someone else's-- well, now your room. Because this is, like... my lair,"

I had to bite back an amused smirk; "Your evil lair?"

"Bingo. This is where I dissect people and stuff," He pointed to the table next to him. "So... yeah. Your opinion matters to me, I guess."

"Oh, does it now?"

"On some things, sure,"

I nodded, focusing on how the moonlight was dipping into the dark brown of Roman's hair. He didn't have to be so pretty all the time, did he? How rude. "Such as...?"

With a shrug, Roman now gazed at the tall ceiling. Like this, he almost looked bored. "Your opinion of me is the one that comes to mind, I guess,"

"My opinion of... you?" That was new.

Roman met my eyes again, this time with a new emotion-- his head was slightly tilted to the side, and he was looking at me through his brows. I had a feeling he didn't intend the look to be as intimidating as it was. "It fluctuates,"

"My opinion?"

"Yep," he said. "Some days, you look at me like I'm everything. And then, the next day, I'm the biggest asshole in the world."

My lips drew together in a tight line-- this was unexpected. "And here I thought I was the only consistent thing in your life," I mumbled. "I don't know, Rome, every couple has its ups and downs, no? But I don't want them to make you doubt what I feel for you. Because... you know, right?" I started taking wary steps across the room. "You know I adore you, there is no way you've managed to miss that?"

With a sigh, Roman sat back in his chair with a smile. "Sure, I know that," he murmured, watching my every step with anticipation. "And I bet that tree you carved our initials into can attest."

Goddamn it. "You're never going to let go of that, are you?"

As I finally approached him, Roman led me between his legs with a gentle hold around my waist. "Nope," He pressed his lips against my clothed chest, his fingers slowly digging into my top. My arms draped around his neck, and my next words were muffled against his hair; he reeked of his usual cinnamon-flavored cigarettes-- "But sure, if the tree ever starts talking, it will agree. You know I'm crazy about you,"

"Crazy is the keyword here,"

"Oh, shut up," I muttered, pulling away to get a proper look at him. Roman was so damn beautiful-- I had missed the sight of him in the past twenty-four hours I had been unsure of the state of our relationship. "I still can't believe you thought I was going to break up with you... Do you know how shitty you would have to be to drive me to that point?"

Roman pulled me back in again, enjoying the scent of my perfume with his next deep inhale; he pressed a short kiss to my neck. "Let me be paranoid," The next kiss lingered for longer, the warm exhale through his nose grazing my skin.

"But I don't want you to be," I tried. "I don't ever want you to doubt us like that. Never, ever again."

Roman stilled. With a sigh, he spoke; "Okay... but that's where you step into what people in my family call a deathtrap," He motioned for me to sit down in his lap, and with wary movements, I draped my arms around his neck and sat down, allowing him to place a sweet kiss to my cheek. "Deathtrap?" I echoed.

"Deathtrap," Roman shifted, placing one arm around my waist as his free hand traced small circles into my thighs. "Otherwise known as... hope." And just like that, it was as though his mind went elsewhere, as though something in his eyes shifted.

However, I'd had enough of that-- I wasn't having any of it tonight. Knowing Roman saw hope as a deathtrap made my heart burn. Wary of not being too abrupt, I slowly placed a finger underneath his chin, catching his attention. "If you don't want to harbor any hope of your own, I'll lend you mine," I whispered, gently nudging his nose with mine.

Roman's pupils dilated as his hot breath fanned against my upper lip. I could smell the beer on him, the cigarettes, yet the most prevalent was the anxiety-- it brushed upon my skin, and caressed my heart. "All of it, Roman," My hand went back into his hair, stroking through the softness of his locks. "All my hope, all my love... it's all yours to borrow. To keep, to mold, to steal, to hold, for as long as you like. It's not a trap of any kind. You're safe with me."

That was all it took, and so he gave in; with the smallest of sighs, Roman closed his eyes, relishing in the moment. "You make me feel... you make me feel," he echoed, almost in disbelief. "It's a painful thing, is it not?"

I dared to let my hand brush down the side of his face, my thumb gently ghosting over his closed lid to feel the softness of his lashes against the pad of my finger. "It doesn't have to be. It could feel really, really good,"

Roman let out a shaky breath against me; "I want that for you," he said, opening his eyes. The green in his eyes shone in the white shimmer of the moonlight, illuminating the intent in his words. "Want to make you feel good... in every way possible."

Something about the drop in his voice nearly made me shiver-- I couldn't allow myself to, not in his lap. It took a few seconds for me to notice that I was holding my breath, staring back at him with a look on my face which I hoped didn't give away too much. Maybe I had misinterpreted his words? Maybe Roman meant that in a romantic way?

However, with the following upward curve of the corners of his mouth, so small I could barely notice it, I knew my intuition had been right. Roman definitely meant that in a different way.

... I needed to listen to my intuition more, didn't I?

Roman's hand on my thigh lifted, now removing the vial of blood around my neck to place it on the table nearby; he proceeded to put his palm against my cheek with the gentlest touch, softly caressing my skin with his thumb. This was when it dawned on me that we were alone. Completely alone. Possibly for the first time ever. No interruptions, with no one to hear anything. Had this been a month ago, that fact alone would've been enough to make me jump off his lap, and I would've probably paced up and down along his room with nervous steps to soothe my anxiety. Being alone with him meant that I wouldn't be able to contain my need for him, I was sure of it.

But now? I believed Roman could do that for me. Soothe me. He could calm me down like no other. Now, I knew he wouldn't run off after getting what he wanted-- because now, I knew that what he truly wanted was me.

"Could you let me do that?" Roman breathed, the green of his eyes finding my lips. I was confused as to how I hadn't melted into his lap already. "Make you feel good?" He leaned forward, just a few inches, now brushing the pad of his thumb across my bottom lip, transfixed. "Or... are you sure you want to do this? Have your first time with someone like me?"

There was something about the fact that he was even asking-- the old Roman would never. "Who else would I have my first time with? It's always been you," My lips parted in a soundless intake of breath, my gaze darting to his plush, pink lips. Like this, I could almost feel them against me; we had kissed so many times that my body remembered the sweet push of his lips simply by gazing at them. Still, I was afraid it would never be enough, and every kiss was as thrilling as the first one. "Just being with you like this feels good already."

Roman hummed, absentminded. "Not what I'm getting at,"

"I know," I breathed. "But I can't help but worry that--" I had to clear my throat, swallowing. Why was I getting so damn nervous? It was getting harder to breathe, and I was sure my cheeks were flushing. "Well... That I won't know what to do."

With a sigh, Roman bit down on his lip to hold back a laugh. "It's your first time, you won't have to do much," Despite his lids hanging heavy over his darkening eyes, I could see the want building in him. "I'll take the lead, okay? You just relax." He steadied me with his palm over my cheek before leaning forward-- my body hitched with caution as he brushed his lips across mine, slanted, until I allowed myself to give in.

The soft pillow of Roman's lips was the sweetest pressure I had ever known. I could feel my blood heat with the intent of the kiss, and I suddenly got the urge to cross my legs to calm myself down-- I knew I couldn't. Roman's breath fell softly against my cheek as my hands went up into his hair, tugging gently at the tips of his dark locks as I kissed him back with my lips slightly parted, moving against his as though he was whispering me a question.

Maybe I didn't hear it-- maybe it was a warning? Had he actually whispered something, or was I imagining things? Because with the next second, Roman hooked his arm under my knees, lifting me off the chair as I yelped into the kiss. It didn't take long before I eased, telling myself he had lifted me many times before, and that he would never drop me. Never, ever. Roman smiled against my lips, humming just slightly as he carried me bridal-style across the room. It felt silly, cliché, until it dawned on me-- was he playing the cliché out for me? Was this what he perhaps imagined I wanted, something pure, something classically virginal?

In the few seconds our kiss was broken, Roman placed me down on the bed and watched as I giggled; it was impossible not to laugh as the recoil of the springs threatened to bounce me up in the air again. He tsked, now grinning as he made space between my legs, drawing me closer before he kissed me once more. It was bolder this time, pressing the soft fullness of his mouth against mine-- there was nowhere else for me to go but to him.

My hands wove into Roman's hair again, pulling him closer as my heart thumped hard in my chest. Was this really happening? Or was this maybe something I was imagining, maybe the alcohol hadn't left my system yet? "Rome--"

Before I could continue, his lips were on mine again like a magnet, drawing us together, unable to separate the magnetic forces long enough to let me speak. It was confirmed; he was definitely here. This was real. There was an urgency to Roman's stubborn kisses-- you're mine, just accept it. Being kissed into submission was something I had never imagined was possible, yet here I was, my lips parting with a soft whimper, feeling his tongue against mine; it filled me with a complete and utter satisfaction, a final statement.

I wanted him to devour me. As I coiled my fingers around Roman's dark hair, tugging him closer, I so desperately wanted only that. To melt into him, to become one-- was that maybe the core concept of sex which I had misunderstood all up until this exact moment? Just the thought of being connected with Roman like that, knowing he could possibly be inside me-- that thought had never evoked the physical reaction in me before as it did now.

Well, fuck. I realized I was screwed before it had even happened.

Sucking in a sharp breath, the silk of Roman's expensive duvets kept me grounded as he softly groaned into my mouth. His tongue circled mine before gently sucking the tip of it into his mouth, and he listened to my whimpers as he withdrew shortly after, a lone string of saliva still linking us. I was unsure why I was left so speechless, why every little thing he did made me feel like my body was on fire, but I knew there was no rationality in need. The innate need ravaging through your veins. There was no way to make sense of it, and I was certain Roman was aware of that too. Yet suddenly, he was near-motionless, blinking twice as if he was a little lost on what to do, which I immediately thought was odd--

Oh. There it was. I was wondering when that would happen.

So... Roman wasn't lost. Far from it. Flustered might be a better word-- I felt his erection poke into my stomach, and it made me realize how big his pupils had gotten. That was quick. "Uh... Surprise?" He awkwardly cleared his throat as his green eyes nearly devoured me whole. "Fuck it, there's one thing I want to do before we go on. It'll take a second."

I held my breath-- with Roman, that could mean anything. "... Okay?"

"Don't look so scared," he teased, getting off the bed and walking to his nightstand. In my head, I wondered whether he was grabbing condoms, or whether he was about to impose something kinky on me. I was ready to start my rehearsed lecture on going slow with me, that it was my first time and everything, until my mind blanked at the sight of a... candle?

Roman got a lighter nearby, looking back at me with a trying smile. "You once said that me and sweet don't go together," he explained, lighting the candle. "On our first date, I believe, if we can call it that. The blackmail part of it was probably not ideal, but it counts in my head. Anyway, I thought you might be right about the sweet part... but it doesn't mean I shouldn't try to be."

I was afraid I'd melt much, much faster than that candle. "Don't tell me you went out and bought that candle just for this?"

Roman shrugged, hoping to brush it off. "Well... I was determined to prove you wrong. And I had a candle for my first time, and I guess it eased me a little. But, uh... I think this is actually a funeral candle,"

"I see," I had to contain a laugh. Sitting up, I reached for his fingers as I longed to touch him again; "Well, no one's dead yet, but the night is still young."

Unable to hold it, Roman snorted, placing the lighter back on the nightstand before he interlocked our fingers. "I'm never doing anything like this again, so I suggest you cherish it,"

"What? But now I'm growing fond of the funeral candle, you're breaking my heart!"

Roman rolled his eyes, sinking down on the bed again, and he brought our intertwined fingers above my head. "If that's what I need to do to get you in my bed, I'll buy the whole fucking candle company,"

There was something exciting about the fact that Roman genuinely could. It wasn't just an empty threat. If he got high enough one night, I was sure he'd know who to call. I was surprised to feel he was still hard now that his erection was pressed up against me once more, but I didn't get much time to think about it-- Roman freed one of his hands, and he managed to make his way under my top as he kissed me once more.

My breath hitched against the soft push of his lips as it hit me that I might have to get fully naked for this. Fuck. Okay. Yet my anxiety eased at the thought of him being fully naked too-- I found my hips keening up against him, my need for friction growing with my arousal.

Roman smiled into the kiss; it was a ravenous feeling. "Impatient?" he asked, barely leaving my lips.

"Yeah," It was merely a breath-- I felt his hand ghost over my bra, slowly tracing the hem. I could barely think, too excited to function anymore.

"No need," Roman pulled away, letting go of the remaining hand above my head as his fingers now toyed with the edge of my top. "We have all the time in the world."

His tone was enough to bring scarlet to my cheeks, but I nodded, swallowing when he bunched the fabric up in his hands and lifted it up and off of me. I raised my arms, pouting just slightly at the loss of contact-- who would've thought I'd get more drunk from kissing Roman than the beer Peter gave me earlier?

With a sigh, Roman's eyes consumed me; the smirk with which he looked down at me only made me more flustered. "Rome," I whined, reaching my hands out for him. "Stop that, get back here. This isn't anything new." That was true-- me in my bra wasn't a sight he hadn't seen before.

Roman tsked, sending me a stern look. "You're disturbing my thought process,"

"Your thought process?--"

"Yep," he said, shrugging. "I'm just thinking about how I want to cum right..." Roman trailed a line across my lower abdomen with his finger, using a touch so light it immediately made me squirm. "... here."

The squirming quickly turned into a small shiver, and my hands went straight to my face as my blush deepened.

There was a change in Roman which was noticeable by the way he lost his smile, lost in whatever images he had in his head as he now leaned back down, pressing eager kisses to the apex of my collarbones. His lips trailed down my body, his fingers digging into the sides of my waist-- his mind was gone. I tugged at his hair as he inched further away, and I whimpered at the sensation of his tongue tracing a circle around my belly button. I never expected myself to like anything like that, but damn-- heaven. This was heaven.

I was reminded of how much bigger Roman was than me when I was suddenly yanked to the edge of the bed, and I could only yelp as I did nothing to fight it. His hands trailed down the sides of my hips, now hooking his fingers around my panties, not yet taking them off-- instead, he was kissing me through my soaked underwear, humming.

Christ, this was something I could get used to. I managed to register the fact that he wasn't on the bed anymore, and I propped myself up on my elbows with the last remaining power I had to confirm my suspicions. Roman stopped for a moment, pulling away to glance right back at me; "What?"

"You're... kneeling,"

"... Yeah?"

It didn't register in my head. "You don't kneel for anyone," The Roman Godfrey didn't get on his knees for anyone in the world. In my mind, he thought the world should be kneeling to him, and that he would never stoop so low.

However, the look he gave me in return told me everything I needed to know. Come on, now. Roman pulled my underwear off as he spoke, peeling it down my thighs; "I kneel for you," To him, that was as simple as a fact. The most logical thing in the history of the universe. He didn't even seem to deem the subject worthy of a further conversation, now grabbing my hips to bring me even closer to the edge of the bed as I let out a small squeak. Roman led my legs to hang over his broad shoulders as he leaned forward, rings of desire around his eyes as he licked a broad, flat stripe up my sex.

Fuck-- I did my best not to mewl as my fingers reached for his hair once more, twirling into the soft curls of his hair. "Rome--"

At this point, I was sure he wouldn't hear me no matter how loudly I spoke. Roman sensed I was about to start keening against him, and he pulled my legs back and held my thighs in place as he slicked his tongue in between my slit, mouth moving as though he was pressing deep, heavy kisses against me. I whimpered, my grip on his hair loosening as I felt my conscience slip into its usual drugged-on-Roman state. A very, very dangerous state of mind, if you ask me.

Giving me some time to breathe, Roman moved to leave soft kisses up along the crease of my thighs. "Keep your legs like this, okay?" he said, slowly trailing one hand up my thigh. Roman's finger teasingly tapped my clit, and he turned to watch the thin line of slick connecting the pad of his finger to me. It was hard not to squirm, and I brought one hand up to my mouth to hopefully suppress any noise. "Rome, what are you?--"

Oh. My breath hitched as he eased his slicked middle finger into me, careful to go in with slow strokes. I whined against my hand when Roman's mouth returned to me, sealing his perfect lips around my swollen nub, adding pressure. It was almost too much-- I felt myself clench around his finger when he curled it upwards, just as his lips covered my mound, sucking me in.

"Christ," I breathed, reaching down to grab a hold of Roman's hair, the slick sounds of his mouth making goosebumps appear along my skin as I contained a shiver. "Shit, Rome, it feels-- so, so good--"

My mindless ramble came to an end with the next hitch of my breath; Roman added another finger, humming against me as an answer. With how nervous I was, it was a tight fit, and the sting that followed made me instinctively tighten my fist in his hair, my skin straining over my knuckles. It was hard to keep still, a string of whimpers escaping my lips.

My hands shook as Roman continued slowly stroking his fingers into me. I wondered whether he could feel my anxiety seeping into my lust-- it was becoming so real. Roman's green eyes darted up at me, stilling his fingers, giving me time to adjust. He pulled away from me, leaving his digits in me as he spoke; "I'm not gonna last long if you tighten up like that later,"

His words conjured a deep blush to my cheeks, and I brought my hands up to my face to hide. "Sorry," I breathed. "I don't-- don't know what's happening."

Roman shrugged, placing a wet, gentle kiss against the inside of my thigh. "You're nervous. It's normal," His hot breath ghosted over my soaked sex as he moved to the other thigh-- "I think it'll help if I make you cum like this. You'll relax more. And I'll keep my fingers in, get you used to the feeling... Unless you want them out?"

For a man who said he didn't deal with virgins, he certainly knew how to talk one down from the cliff. I let out a shaky breath, peeking down at him past my fingers; "N-No, it's okay,"

Roman seemed to be holding back a laugh; "You look a little spooked,"

"I... do?" Knowing my boyfriend, I knew he probably found that incredibly hot.

"A bit. Wanna stop?--"

"No!" That was a little too quick. Fuck.

Roman chuckled as he proceeded to bite down on the inside of my thigh with a teasing smirk-- I squeaked, clenching around his fingers. "Good," he purred, leaning forward to press a short kiss to my clit, drawing out another squeak from me. Something told me he liked the sound of my pleasured panic. "It's been some time since the last time you let me do this. I've missed the taste of you."

"... It's been, like, four days,"

Roman let out a groan, and I could see in his eyes that it was building in him-- the innate lust. "A fucking eternity," he breathed, a new rasp appearing in his voice. With that, Roman didn't lose a single second leaning back down, slicking his tongue between my folds, returning to suck down on my clit with a moan.

Oh, well-- I knew I was done for. Still, knowing his goal was to make me cum, knowing I didn't have to hold back, I let my hands wander back into his hair with a whimper of pleasure. It didn't take long before I clenched around his fingers again, the burn of the stretch subsiding with every flick of Roman's tongue.

"Fuck," I breathed. "Fuck, fuck--"

Any attempt to speak dissolved into incoherent cries, teetering on the edge while pleasure surged through me like a relentless wave. Still, it didn't take more than two more sucks to ease me over, and I felt my climax drawing out long and slow against Roman's mouth, tightening around his fingers with a whimper.

My head lolled along the duvets as I tried to catch my breath. With every time Roman did this, it only got better-- it was hard to believe that was even possible. I came to my senses when I felt his fingers slide out of me, the twinge of pain having long passed.

"Fuck," Roman said, a laugh to his voice as he pressed kisses up along my stomach, getting up from the ground. "Best fucking pussy in the world."

God-- I hid my face again, my blush deepening. That dirty mouth of his. "That was so good," I purred, reaching out for him; "Come here, Rome. I miss you up here."

Chuckling, Roman shook his head, motioning for me to scoot further up the bed. "Just a sec," he said, walking back over to his nightstand, opening his drawer again and shuffling around. I did as told, watching him with a sigh; he was right, that orgasm had relaxed me. However, my zen didn't last long-- I suddenly felt all my muscles tightening when I watched Roman bring the fingers he just had in me to his lips, absentmindedly sucking on them as he now held up a silver wrapper with his free hand as though that was the most normal thing in the world. I also spotted a clear bottle which I could only assume was lube.

What the fuck? The sight of him doing that made me want to disappear into the bed-- why was the sight so... thrilling? It must've been the look of enjoyment on his face. "Oh, that's hot," I mumbled, my eyes immediately widening with the realization of what I had just blurted out.

Roman cocked a brow as he unclasped the vial of my blood around his neck, placing it next to the candle before he got back on the bed, now trailing the residue of spit and slick on his fingers across my thighs. "Well, you taste nice,"

"Not that nice?"

A hum; "Wanna try some, make up your mind?" he asked, a teasing smirk spreading across his plush lips as he brought his hand up to his mouth, wiping off the remnants of my slick to coat his fingers.

I shivered, grimacing— "No, thanks," Hoping to distract Roman from trying to convince me, I sat up, reaching for the buttons of his shirt. Frankly, I had enough of being the only one that was undressed.

Roman hummed, following my hands with his eyes, grinning from ear to ear as he threw down the condom and the lube somewhere on the bed. "More for me, then," he mumbled, licking my slick off his fingers as he kept his gaze on me-- it didn't take long before he pushed me back down on the bed, unbuttoning the last of his buttons with ease I could never match.

My heart had probably never worked this hard before in my life. "Rome," I tried, watching him discard his shirt. Fuck-- he was gorgeous. I could feel myself blushing in an instant, shamelessly looking him up and down; I knew he didn't mind. Why was I reacting like this? Roman being breathtakingly handsome wasn't news? "I think... I think--"

"You're still thinking?" Roman's hands gripped my waist as he leaned down, kissing up my torso as I whimpered beneath him, reaching for his hair again. "Stop thinking. No thinking."

"No thinking?" I echoed, giggling as his eager kisses reached my neck, getting ticklish. "You're asking for too much." Now that he was finally close again, I draped my arms around him, trailing my fingers across his broad shoulders with a sigh. Being skin-to-skin like this was my favorite thing in the world-- being connected.

Roman hummed, his erection once again pressing into my lower abdomen. "Either you stop thinking of your own volition..." he said, pulling my chest up against his. "... Or I'll have to fuck your brains out. Your choice."

I shivered, feeling my mind start buzzing. That was a damn easy choice. "That sounds rough," I mumbled, my breath hitching as Roman pressed a kiss to my ear. "You said you'd be gentle..." To be completely honest, this was the part I was nervous about-- would he maybe not be able to be? I was a little scared he'd be like one of those horror-story guys Letha had told me she'd been with, one of those guys that just slap you all of a sudden or start choking you cause they've seen it in porn and think that's normal behavior.

Roman pulled away, hovering barely an inch above my lips; his breath grazed my cheek, and the green of his eyes were glazed over with a look of confusion. "Am I not being just that?" he asked, nodding to the candle.

Oh-- I turned to the supposed funeral candle.

It allowed a sweet kiss to my cheek, the tip of his upturned nose pressing into my cheekbone; "Trust me. I wouldn't want to hurt you, you know me,"

He was right-- from the very first moment we got together, he had told me just that.

Still, it was only when I felt Roman's lips against mine with the softest of pressures, that I pushed my concerns away. It was the sort of kiss that made my heart burn, the sort of kiss that made my hands trail up into his hair to keen him closer. I pushed all my thoughts of horror into a heap, churned it in my mental grinder, processed it, and allowed the product of it to slip past my lips; "I want you," I breathed, feeling myself grow needy against him.

Roman hummed, a small roll of his hips onto mine following-- I didn't expect it to make my breath catch in my chest. "I want you too,"

Something in me ignited; I wanted him to do that again. Disoriented, I reached down for the zipper of his jeans, moaning into the kiss that followed. "Want you more,"

Roman smiled; "Not possible,"

At this moment, I was thankful to be made up of solid matter-- if not, I was sure I'd have melted straight into the bed, a puddle of pure horny. I wasn't sure when Roman lost his pants, too consumed in the kiss to function. My state of arousal only heightened when my hips bucked up, feeling the hard outline of his cock between my legs; I was suddenly reminded of the time we did something similar in an alleyway on our first day. But this was different-- this was a direct contact of his clothed length brushing up against my clit with repeating strokes, a motion which had my breath hitching as my nails dug into his shoulders.

Roman let out a soft groan, nipping at my neck as he ground down against me. "This," he breathed. "This is what you do to me. I wanna be in you so fucking bad."

With the next roll of his hips, I whimpered; the buzzing of my mind refused to still. "Have me, then," was all I managed to say, tugging at Roman's hair as the tips of my fingers burned.

What followed happened so fast, I barely registered it. I heard the ripping of the silver wrapping in the midst of our heated kiss, adrenaline and dopamine coursing through my veins as every little sweet word rolling off Roman's tongue filled me with that familiar warm feeling I always got around him.

For this, it was all worth it. All the drama with Letha, all the tears, all the pain-- it was all worth it.

"You're everything," Roman whispered, rubbing the head of his cock along my soaked sex as my hands skimmed the muscular range of his back. "You're my everything, do you know that?"

God, how I wanted to be one with him. Wanted him in my head, wanted him in me, wanted to melt into him and become one single entity, never to part. From the first moment I met him, from the first moment I laid eyes on him in class, from the first moment he smiled at me, I knew it was Roman. It would always be Roman, it would always, always be Roman for me, and knowing he thought the same of me as well, that I was his everything-- all my longing, everything, had been worth it. Because I was his everything too, finally, just like he had always been mine.

However, as Roman angled his cock and gently pushed the head in, kissing my cheek with the sweetest touch, I didn't expect the painful, sharp sting-- I wasn't sure how loudly I gasped, how far my nails dug into his back, but I was really damn certain that this hurt.

Roman was out of me within the blink of a second; "Shit," he breathed, a panicked look in his eyes. "Should've-- Should've warned you."

The sting remained as I did my best to breathe through it. "That's a stretch," was all I managed to say, stroking over where I had scraped his back.

"I'll take that as a compliment," Roman mumbled, scanning me. He didn't seem bothered by the crescent moons my nails were leaving behind. "You okay?"

"Yeah..."

He cursed under his breath, leaning down to press a kiss to my forehead. "I forgot about this part... My brain doesn't work when you're naked," Roman sighed, reaching for one of the hands I had on his back. "If you want to go on, I might know a way to make it a little easier."

I met his eyes as he brought the back of my hand to his lips; "I guess it's supposed to hurt a little, Roman, just... just do what you usually do, I trust you," Maybe I needed to push through it? I could take a little pain, couldn't I? That was until I remembered the pain again-- it made me clench. Ouch.

With a certain look I knew too well, he shook his head as he now wrapped his fingers around my wrist. "No. It's not supposed to hurt," he said. "And I said I wouldn't hurt you, so..." Roman trailed my hand down along my body, watching as my eyes widened. "In my experience, it helps if you... help."

"Help?"

"Help yourself, so to speak," Roman purred, his signature cocky smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "Cause I doubt this will be your first time doing this."

"Doing what?-- Oh," As he placed my hand over my sex, he slid two fingers above mine, guiding me to rub my clit. Roman was right; it wasn't my first time doing that to myself. Still, this was a different feeling-- My hips immediately bucked up into our hands, and when Roman leaned down to kiss me, I knew I was done for.

Everything felt warm, everything felt right. "Just keep doing that," he whispered, sinking his teeth into my lower lip. "Wanna?-- Again?"

Roman didn't need to use more words than that; I knew what he meant. I nodded, feeling my cheeks redden at the fact that I was touching myself in front of him like this-- however, I didn't have time to think much about it.

Soon, I wasn't the only one touching myself, anyway.

"Should've used this from the start," Roman mumbled, cursing under his breath as he poured a dash of lube on his cock from the clear bottle nearby. "Got too excited... fuck." With a lazy grip, he wrapped his hand around his length, spreading the lube with slow strokes.

My mind was buzzing. I watched as Roman's lips parted, a shaky breath escaping him. "It's okay," I tried, rubbing mindless circles around my clit. "It's just me."

"Yeah, and I care about you," Roman's eyes were halfway closed as they met mine, darkened with growing lust. "Ready?"

I nodded-- yeah.

This time, when Roman's cock pushed into me again with the slowest of strokes, the pleasure from my clit dulled the sting. The only thing left to adjust to was the stretch; my breath hitched as my free hand went back up into his hair, wincing against his lips as his thick length stroked me open.

Roman cursed as his parted lips hovered above mine. He held me tightly against his body, watching out for any signs of discomfort before he spoke; "Shit... This feels better than I--thought,"

My head rolled back against the duvet, breathing against Roman with small heaves. "Rome," I whimpered. "Fuck, this is--" I didn't expect the feeling, didn't expect the tips of my fingers to burn more as I grasped at his hair, didn't expect the way my whole body reacted-- it was different from anything else I had ever felt or thought I could feel. Being filled up by Roman was...

It was everything.

Everything I had ever dreamed of.

It felt good, it felt right-- I moaned, clenching at the feeling of his cock slowly sinking into me at a steady pace, my body aching with love. This was as gentle as I bet anything like this could possibly be, and I squirmed a bit beneath him, adjusting to the feeling of having his cock inside of me.

Roman let out a shaky breath, containing the urge to pound into my warmth like I supposed he usually would. "Hurts?"

"No, no-- Ah,"

With his next thrust, Roman kissed up my jaw, keeping every stroke careful. "Want me to put it in all the way?"

"The-- There is more?"

"Baby..." he breathed, containing a choked laugh. "I'm only halfway in."

I was sure I was about to faint. How the fuck?-- No, I couldn't think clearly in this state. No more thinking. I decided to trust him; I knew Roman would pull back if it hurt, anyway. "Okay... Let's try,"

As Roman pushed in more of his length, the quiet moan escaping him blended in with my string of panicked whimpers. I didn't even know I had space inside me for more-- my eyes sprung open, my legs giving into a tremble. "Rome, I-- a-ah, this is--"

"Shh, look at me, breathe," Roman brought his hand to my face, guiding me to look into his eyes. His voice was soft, caring; "You okay? Is this too much?"

The shock was the thing that had gotten to me, I was sure of it. Because after a few more deep strokes, a few tighter circles around my clit, my fear eased as I realized this was a sensation I would be chasing for the rest of my life.

"Feels good?" Roman asked, his voice nearly breaking-- I imagined it was hard to not give in to the pleasure of the tight embrace around his cock.

Still, I could only nod, twisting my fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck, pulling him towards me to smother him with a heated rush of my lips against his, moaning into the kiss as I pulled my hand from between my legs-- it was starting to brink the line of overstimulation.

"Good," Roman muttered against my mouth.

The kiss didn't last too long; my shock was still coming and going in waves. "I'm-- we're having sex," I blurted out, my cheeks flaring red. The truth was hitting me like a blow to the head. The thing I had dreamed about since the first day I laid eyes on him was actually happening.

Roman contained a laugh, looking rather endeared by my realization; "Yeah, you're doing it, you're having sex... I'd give you a high five, but-- hah, that wouldn't work,"

Why were we laughing? Why was this... fun?

Caught between the fire in my chest, the twinge of humor, and the ache pulsing low between my legs, I whimpered as I realized I wanted-- no, needed more. Still, a small, meek call of his name was all I managed to stutter out.

Roman shifted, pushing my body so that my knees were bent at his sides; "Speak your mind,"

How was I supposed to conjure a cohesive sentence in this state? "I want-- you, more--"

"We're going-- hah, back to that?"

"Not that! More, Rome-- just, more, I need--"

He let out a breathy moan, smiling back down at me; he knew exactly what I meant. "Thank God," Roman's cock filled me over and over, his thrusts growing harder, faster as he found a steady pace to rock into me. "You're taking me so good, aren't you?"

My head felt like it was spinning. This couldn't be real. I couldn't possibly be as lucky as to finally sleep with Roman Godfrey.

His voice brought me back; "You're doing so well," he murmured, burying his face into the crook of my neck, muffling a quiet moan against my skin. It was the most magical of sounds-- my heart was threatening to beat out of my chest, and I was sure the warmth of skin against mine probably helped with the overheating of my brain. "Doing so, so well for me... I've wanted you like this for so long."

"Me too," I breathed, my hips keening to take his thrusts. "Wanted you-- since forever."

My words only seemed to reel him on; Roman hips snapped harder into me as I whimpered. "Forever?"

"Forever-- a-ah,"

Something in Roman's breathing changed. It was almost as though I could read his thoughts, feel his new reality form. Was it maybe the last push he needed to believe I was his till death? That there was a person out there walking this earth, breathing the same air, that could possibly want to be with him for an eternity? "Forever," he breathed, latching onto my neck with repeated needy kisses in an attempt to drown out the noises threatening to spill past his lips. "You and-- and I, forever."

As Roman's cock repeatedly pushed into me, I could only whimper; the stretch was still something to get used to, and my nails bit into his back as I tried to steady myself. "Forever," I managed to breathe out, hearing him moan into my neck at the sharpness of my nails against his back-- I knew he'd like that. I knew Roman too damn well.

"Forever," he echoed, breath washing warm against my ear as he raised himself, his cheek nuzzling mine in an intimate embrace.

I clenched around the girth of his cock, shivering. This was so unbelievably sweet, nothing I had ever expected from him. Roman was so much taller, and his broad build served as a comforting weight through the wave of new pleasure my body tried to comprehend. With the next surge of love washing over my chest, the next pump of Roman's cock, I felt my chin give in to an involuntary quiver as I gripped him tighter.

It was at this moment that it truly dawned on me;

I loved him.

I loved Roman Godfrey.

Tears swarmed my eyes as one of my hands went up into his soft hair, hoping he'd take it as an urging for him to kiss me again. I didn't want to have a chance to talk, to blurt it out and scare him away-- which is why, when Roman shifted and crashed his lips against mine, I only felt relief.

I was safe. I was cared for. And damn, I felt good.

However, what I hadn't expected, was for the shift of angle to brush past a spot inside of me I had only ever felt when Roman's fingers curled into me. But this was far greater, far more stimulating-- I let out a choked moan against Roman's lips, my eyes springing open as my head tilted back into the duvet, heaving for air as my legs gave in to a tremble.

I didn't have to look up at him to know the exact look on his face, yet I dared to take a peek; he was too hot to resist. And there it was, those parted, perfect lips paired with that dark look in his green eyes of victory. This is exactly what he had wanted to reduce me to all along, wasn't it? Roman's hair had never been this messed up (courtesy of my hands), and the sheer look of it nearly made my heart swell. "Good tears?" he asked with a whisper, scanning the look in my eyes.

Fuck, yeah. I could only nod.

Knowing Roman, I was wondering when he'd-- oh, hello, you. I was waiting for the eventual switch. A man like Roman Godfrey couldn't stay sweet forever.

At the sight of my tears, I knew something new in him ignited. He placed a hand over my mouth, placing more of his weight on me as his other hand pulled me tighter against him, the wet snaps of his cock pushing into me growing louder as I moaned out against his palm. "Listen to this," he purred, a sinister smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as he made me listen to the sound of our union. "This is sex, you're damn right. This is what you'll be craving from me."

God-- I squeezed my eyes shut, the continuous push of the tip of Roman's cock against my sweet spot inside sending my brain into a frenzy.

"I get why you've been reserved... You'll never be who you were before this again," With a grunt, the next snap of his hips only grew harder, knowing I could take it and adjust. It certainly didn't help the tremble of my body. "Gonna get you fucking addicted to this feeling. To me. Cause you've given yourself to me now, do you-- do you realize that?"

My wet lashes fluttered as I slowly dared to open my eyes, my heart thumping harder than ever before. If only he knew how addicted I already was.

"This is it," Roman breathed, the green hues of his gaze engulfing me; "This is us. This is you. This is who you are from now on. My girl... Only mine. Forever. Gonna help you cum on this cock, okay? Gonna give you the first time you deserve, h-hah--"

Something about the look in his eyes unnerved me, despite the hot nature of his words-- What? There were many ways for him to make me cum, surely, but the second my fingers started numbing up, my mind started flaring red with a passage from my most hated book;

The upir's ability to mesmerize is an ancient and powerful form of psychic influence, capable of bending a victim's will. This control often manifests subtly, with suggestions that feel like one's own thoughts. If one is being mesmerized by a upir, it is often accompanied by a stilling of one's inner monologue, or a numbing sensation. Prolonged exposure can lead to disorientation, memory lapses, and a gradual erosion of autonomy. The key to resisting lies in anchoring oneself to reality—through pain, strong emotions, or focusing on a meaningful object. Beware: once under an upir's thrall, distinguishing truth from illusion becomes a perilous challenge.

Beware.

Beware.

The last time my fingers had numbed up like this, was the time Roman forced me to tell him what had happened between Jasmine and I. It felt like the autonomy of my thoughts evaporated, seeped out of my ears, and disappeared into Roman's grasp.

However, at this moment right now, this moment of blinding pleasure and complete rapture of my soul and love, I wanted nothing more but this. I knew I wasn't being mesmerized of course, because upirs weren't real-- but as Roman kept my face still and my eyes on him, it felt like it. It was almost like I heard him telling me to cum. A few more thrusts were all it took, the complete transfixion of Roman's unnaturally dilated pupils swallowing me as I only saw green, green, green-- his hand quickly left my mouth to hear me cry out, a choked moan escaping me as the fear toppled me. This was an orgasm unlike anything else I had experienced, and I felt myself pulse around Roman's length, practically milking his cock as I struggled to grapple with the most intense climax of my life. "Fuck-- Fuck!" I whimpered, my nails digging further into his back as tears welled in my eyes.

The mere sight of it was enough for Roman to nearly buckle over, and I was ripped out of the trance, heaving for air as he spilled into the condom, teeth grazing my shoulder as he tried to bite back his moans of pleasure, hips keening into my tight warmth.

I slowly slid my hands off Roman's broad back, realizing we had both dripped sweat onto each other's skin as I hoped my breath would soon go back to normal. My body ached in a way it had never ached before, and I winced as Roman eventually pulled out of me with a sigh.

There was a long moment after he rolled off of me where we simply gazed at each other. I watched the heave of his chest, the way his brown hair laid over his dangerous green eyes, and wondered how on earth I had been so lucky as to have him fall for me too.

However, suddenly, amid my awe, a small droplet of blood gathered at Roman's nose. To my surprise, he was completely unbothered. The look in his eyes told me he had an inkling this would happen, and it further confused me.

I leaned forward to wipe away the blood pooling at his upper lip with my thumb. "You're bleeding," I echoed, aware that I was stating the obvious.

Roman's eyes softened; "Are you, though?"

"... What do you mean?"

Shifting, he wrapped an arm around me, pulling me closer as his other hand slid between my legs, sliding a finger against the wetness of my sex as I squirmed, a short giggle escaping me as I nuzzled up against him. Roman then scanned his finger as I continued to wipe away the stream of blood coming from his nose, watching as it smeared against his cheek. He hummed; "You didn't bleed. At least that's good?"

"I guess?"

Roman kissed my bloodied thumb, a shaky breath escaping him at the taste of the iron; "How was that for you? You okay?"

If only he knew. "You were great," I purred, nipping at his jaw. "It was lovely, Rome."

He let out a breath; "Thank fuck," Roman murmured, visibly relieved. "And you were really damn sweet. I knew those fuck-me eyes would be the death of me... Sorry if it got a little intense at the end, there."

"No, no, that was-- fuck, that was so hot,"

Roman smiled. My sweet boy. Another kiss; "But now, there's one thing I wanted to do." He propped himself up on his elbow, and I closed my eyes as he made sure I laid with my back against the bed-- I was too tired to focus. The ache between my legs refused to subside, making me worried about the state of my thighs tomorrow. They better not fucking cramp up with every step, similar to the day after a hard session at the gym.

And just as I was about to ask him to return to me, to stop doing whatever the fuck he was doing, I suddenly felt a warm, slick substance drip onto my lower abdomen. With a gasp, I snapped out of my drowsiness, only to be met with the sight of Roman holding the condom above my stomach with a devilish grin, letting the content pour down on me.

He chuckled at the sight of my widened eyes, my speechless state-- "Didn't manage to cum here, as I said... so this will do,"

"Roman, for fuck's sake!"

"What? You look good with my cum all over!--"

"Roman!"

"Fine!" he huffed. "Gonna go grab some wipes, I'll be right back. Anything else you need? Water?"

I wondered whether Roman realized how sweet he was being-- I glanced over at the candle flickering in the moonlight, the vial of my blood lying neatly next to it. The sight made my heart swell; God, how I loved him. It killed me that he couldn't know. I knew he'd run in the other direction if he did. "Water would be nice," I breathed, watching as Roman got dressed again.

It all hit me like a wave, now;

The first time I got my heart broken, I had been at fault.

The first time I got a black eye, I had swung the first punch.

But the first time I had sex? It had thankfully been with the man I loved. Still, I was sure the cosmic imbalance would catch up to me again and drag me back down into the dirt soon enough.

But not right now.

Not right now.

Here, I was safe with Roman. The universe couldn't get me now, no-- not with the equivalent of the moon lying next to me. He had returned to me in no time, holding me close in his nearly immediate slumber after having lent me a shirt of his to sleep in. The cosmos wouldn't dare to touch me now.

I adjusted the cover on top of us, kissing Roman's forehead; "Are you sleeping?" I whispered, poking his cheek with the gentlest of touches.

No response. Phew.

And just as I started to fade into sleep as well, I ran my thumb across the softness of his cheek. I connected our foreheads with a content sigh before I pressed my lips against his in a loving kiss. Roman looked so peaceful-- the universe wouldn't dare to take me now, wouldn't dare to wake him up.

"I love you," I whispered like I would be put to death if I awoke him. With one last glance at the candle, my heavy lids fluttered as my heart cried;

"I love you,"

Chapter 11: chasing sleep

Summary:

Everything seems to be going perfect for you-- you've got the guy, after all. However, you're still haunted by the life you gave away to be with him, and specifically, the girl you left behind. Will Roman ever fully trust that you won't leave him?
tw! dub-con elements

Chapter Text

"You didn't say goodbye, and now a part of me believes that means you're coming back,"

Over and over again, those words echoed in my ears. I had read it in a passage somewhere, probably in the new romance novel I had picked up a few days ago, and now it truly haunted me. Latched onto my guilt, my love, my very being-- I wasn't sure whether I was capable of letting it all go, despite how happy Roman made me.

Was that maybe why I ended up right here, right now?

"Do you think it could work again?" Letha echoed, turning to me. Her legs were dangling off my roof as we sat by the edge. A soft breeze moved her long, blonde hair away from her shoulders, and just like that, I was reminded of how truly beautiful she was. It must be a genetic thing for all the Godfreys to be breathtaking. However, the look in Letha's green eyes told me something was wrong, but I couldn't put my finger on it. It was almost as though I was looking back at her with a grey-ish filter, like my vision was making it seem like we were sitting in a cloud of fog. None of this looked real.

"What could?" I asked, turning to check my surroundings-- yeah, this was definitely my roof. Why were we here?

"Us," Letha's gaze awaited me as I faced her again, and it was heartbreakingly sad. "You and I. Our friendship."

It felt like I had dipped the tips of my fingers in cold water. "Letha... Come on," I reached for her hand, placing mine above hers with a sigh; "This ended a long time ago. I don't think we can salvage this--"

"But what if we could?" Letha's voice was so painfully sweet, so insistent. "Do you think it could work again?"

"What could?"

"Us," she breathed, turning her hand to intertwine our fingers with an unusually hard grip. It didn't feel so sweet anymore. "You and I. Our friendship."

The red lights in my mind went off like police sirens-- something was off. With my next glance at her hair, it was no longer that same warm shade of blonde. Now, I could argue it was actively turning white before my eyes.

This wasn't real. "Letha?"

"Yes?"

"... Am I dreaming?"

Letha's eyes softened as the green in them dulled down, bordering a bleak color of grey. "Yes," she said. "I'm looping it until you're honest."

"What do you mean?--"

"You'll wake up when you tell me the truth. If you want to help your subconscious let go of the guilt, you should do it,"

My heart was actively breaking. Looking into Letha's blank eyes, I realized it reminded me of the look she had on her face when I first told her about Roman and me. "Ask, then,"

I could see her emotions clutching her soul like an unforgiving fist despite this only being a dream. My head didn't have any problems conjuring the image of her as a kicked, wounded puppy. She spoke; "Do you think it could work again?"

I indulged with a soft sigh; "What could, Letha?"

"Us," she said, allowing tears to well in her eyes. "You and I. Our friendship."

I felt it truly, brutally, that I didn't know what to say. I didn't know if it would break me to be honest. "I can't leave Roman for you," I breathed. "I won't. So I doubt you and I could be friends again as long as I'm still with him."

Letha nodded, turning away to look up at the full moon above us. The hand she had in mine was starting to turn cold. "Do you think it could work again?"

Oh, she was asking again-- was my answer maybe not the truth? Not the right answer? Did my sleeping subconscious know? "What could?" I echoed, growing tired of the loop we were caught in.

"Us," Letha closed her eyes as her chest raised and fell with her shallow breaths. "You and I. Our friendship."

I decided to give it less thought-- that was the key, sometimes. Roman had taught me that. Could it? Could it truly? "Honestly?"

"Honestly,"

It didn't take long before I realized tears were threatening to spill from my eyes too. I had missed the smell of Letha's sweet perfume. It smelled like home and a comforting hug hello. "Yeah. I think it could work," It was weird to hear me say it out loud; "I was always in love with Roman, but you... You taught me how to love in the first place. If we could both forgive each other, I think we'd have a chance. Yet... I don't think I ever can. Fully."

Letha didn't open her eyes, barely moved an inch. She opted for a short, melancholic nod as her lower lip gave in to a tremble. "I'm afraid I'll miss you forever," she whispered, mostly to herself.

And suddenly, I couldn't feel the weight of her hand in mine. My gaze darted down to what was previously our union, only to find that she wasn't there anymore. I looked up to find a slow line of evaporating smoke, similar to a trail coming from Roman's cinnamon cigarettes.

With my next heave of air accompanied by a lonely tear rolling down my cheek, I allowed my hand to reach out to touch the fog. It was thick, and it prickled the tips of my fingers to the likes of a cactus-- my sorrow clouded my instincts, and I didn't retract my hand. I hadn't allowed myself to feel any of this, after all. I had been so wrapped up in Roman, so wrapped up in the new feelings that washed over my body, that I had buried all the old ones.

However, Letha kept her promise-- I was released.

Released from the loop, but with one foot remaining in the quicksand of guilt.

And as I awoke, it felt like I had been thrown into a cold pond. With a quick breath, I arched off the bed, gasping; "Roman!"

Frantic beyond words, I heaved for air, blinking rapidly to wake myself up. The morning sun shone through Roman's curtains with soft rays, and I was hit with the smell of a burnt candle. Still hyperventilating, I put a hand on my chest as I tried to turn around, but to no avail.

Why couldn't I move? Was I maybe still stuck in the dream?

Oh, wait-- It was at this moment that I realized I had a heavy arm around me, keeping me still with my back pressed up against human warmth.

I let out a shaky breath, a relieved smile spreading across my lips-- Roman.

My panic gradually subsided, washing away with calm waves as I turned my head to look at him. The sun did him good. Roman's hair was a very specific shade of brown, but in the sun, it had twinges of orange and golden hues. If I were to ever bring it up to him, I know he'd protest and say he was nowhere near ginger. He wasn't, and I was aware of that; as usual, he wouldn't get the point.

After some careful maneuvering, I managed to turn in Roman's heavy embrace, facing him. His plush lips were gently parted, and his long, brown lashes weighed over his eyes-- he also had a rather hefty case of bedhead which I couldn't help but find beyond endearing. Up close like this, completely still, I could see the nearly invisible freckles painting the apples of his cheeks, study the curve of his upper lip, and the scar-like indent on his right cheek. I dared to trace my thumb over it, feeling the softness of Roman's skin against the pad of my finger-- this was beauty unmatched.

He was so beautiful.

And he was mine.

With the gentlest of pressures, I leaned forward, barely brushing my lips across Roman's. I didn't dare to fully kiss him. I wouldn't dare to wake him up. If only we could lay like this forever, undisturbed and alone.

Forever.

Memories of last night swarmed my brain, pushing out all the memories of Letha's sad, green eyes. I smiled as I realized the ache between my legs hadn't subsided-- the sting remained. It had actually happened. I hadn't made it all up. And I would've stayed engulfed in my cloud of complete and utter awe if Roman hadn't nearly scared the living crap out of me with the following.

His voice was raw with sleep as his eyes remained closed; "It's rude to stare,"

I practically arched right off the bed again. Had Roman not had his arms around me in a deadweight hold, I was sure I'd have flown right down to the floor. "Christ!" I hissed, shocked. How had he known? "Sorry... Did I wake you?"

Roman seemed too sleepy to grant me a proper answer, and he settled for a short grunt; "Sleep,"

"It's already morning!--"

"Don't care. Sleep," With his next breath, he pulled me even closer, until the tips of our noses were touching.

I was almost glad Roman's eyes were closed. At least he didn't see the hefty blush creeping up my cheeks. It dawned on me that he maybe had a point-- we had never had the pleasure of having nowhere to be, with no one to wake us up, or school to go to.

There was one thing I wanted to say, but I was scared he'd get upset at my use of words-- no, fuck it; "You're so pretty," I whispered, reaching up to brush my fingers over the tips of his long, long lashes. "You can't expect me not to stare when you look like this."

Roman's brows drew together, yet he allowed me to do as I pleased in his sleepy state. "I'm not pretty,"

Knew it. "Yeah, you are,"

"Just go to sleep,"

"You're unbelievably pretty,"

"... Please just sleep,"

I was aware that I was annoying him, but something about the way his voice got all harsh in the morning made me want to hear him more. Roman's breath fanned over the skin at the tip of my nose with the gentlest breeze as I sighed against his lips; God, how I loved him. "I don't want to sleep... but I can lay here with you, if you want,"

Roman hummed, the dark rumble in his chest nearly vibrating the bed in the process. "Just don't go anywhere,"

"I won't,"

"Ever,"

"I won't,"

With Roman's next breath, I knew he finally believed me-- finally. It hit him for the first time last night that I wasn't lying when I said I wasn't going anywhere, and it hit him again now. Forever was a dead serious plan of mine, and I was intent on making him understand that no matter what. "You're prettier," he eventually said, nudging my nose with his. "You're like the first pleasant sip of water after you've recovered from a sore throat."

"... Specific,"

Roman let out a short, annoyed groan; "Sleep,"

I didn't want to sleep. I didn't want to possibly face Letha again. With my palms against Roman's soft cheeks, I placed a loving kiss against his parted lips, feeling him sigh into me. "Good morning, Rome,"

He smiled, fulfilled, as though he couldn't hold it back anymore; "Good morning, baby,"

"Did you at least sleep well?--"

"Sleep!"

"... But I really don't want to,"

With another sigh, Roman stirred, pulling me closer to press a lazy kiss to my jaw. "Either you go back to sleep, or we fuck. You gotta give me something to work with, here,"

I stilled. "That's... not a bad idea,"

Roman's classic smirk illuminated my morning. "Turn around, then,"

"Huh?--"

"Trust me,"

Sometimes, when I was lonely, before everything with Roman, I used to kiss the skin between my knuckles and imagine someone else was kissing me. The small sounds, and the tingling sensation pooling in my stomach, would distract me from the unbearable feeling of loneliness. The reality of it.

Which is why, when Roman brought my hand to his mouth, pressing his lips to my knuckles before turning me around, I knew I wasn't alone.

Actually, it wasn't just that that showed me I wasn't-- the repeated strokes of Roman's cock filling me was certainly reminder enough.

It was that sort of lazy morning sex I had only read about in those odd novels my mom would hide around the house, or heard about from my friends which I no longer had. This was a different type of sex from yesterday's, which had been so highly connected and emotional-- and this was not to say that this right now wasn't both connected and emotional, but it was... comforting. Like we were taking joy in being able to do just this. To enjoy one another in a sleepy, slow form.

Roman's grip around my throat wasn't hard or choking-- it was more of a hold to keep me in place as he let out a breathy grunt against my shoulder, sinking into me with slow, lazy strokes from behind. "We should do this more often," Roman murmured against my ear, listening to my small whimpers. "Isn't this fun?"

I could hear his stupidly pretty smile. Fucking Romy Schneider. "What, sex?" Obviously?

Roman's deep laugh against my ear nearly had me shuddering; "In the morning," he purred.

"That's gonna be-- hard," My last words were cut off by the hitch of my breath. This felt too good. "Parents and-- and all." It was true, though. How were we supposed to do this with our parents in the house? I doubted Roman's mom was out on business trips all the time, anyway.

With a small huff, I was pulled even tighter to his chest, almost as a reprimand-- I had no idea why it made my cheeks burn. "You'll learn to be quiet," Roman breathed, kissing up the shell of my ear. "Right?"

"I--"

"You'll be a good little girl for me and be quiet, hm?"

And just as I was about to protest, to remind him it was probably a little rude to have sex with other people in the house (I had no idea actually, was there no etiquette to it?), the hand Roman had around my waist slid between my legs, coaxing them further apart. All my thoughts of having a proper conversation went out the window the second he pressed two fingers to my clit, circling it as his kisses moved to the skin between my ear and my jaw.

It was impossible not to give in to the feeling; Roman was intoxicating. I whimpered with the next brush of his cock against my sweet spot, the different sensations dulling my brain with every thrust-- "Yeah,"

Roman let out a hum of approval; "Just for me?"

"Only-- Only you,"

I could practically feel him melt against me. "That's my girl,"

It was an oddity how much Roman enjoyed the sound of it. How much he enjoyed knowing he finally had a companion in the world. I could feel his cock twitch inside of me with the reminder, with the need to become one.

Because at the end of the day, that's what we were now.

We were one.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

The next day at school was the easiest day to handle in a while. It didn't matter that people were staring, that my reputation was still tarnished, because I finally felt the stream of love floating my way that I had been craving my whole life.

"You need to start zipping this up," Roman huffed, reaching for the zipper of my jacket. He pulled me closer to the railing he was sitting on by the school entrance, shaking his head. "It's getting cold. Don't be stupid." This was a new level of intimacy. The quiet moments, the small, shared moments of care. He was almost annoyed that I hadn't done it myself, that I hadn't thought to take care of myself, thoughtless little girl.

I loved it when he got protective like this. Absolutely adored it. It only reminded me of how much I loved him, and consequently, how I couldn't tell him.

I glanced at Peter, who sat next to Roman, and held back a snicker. I could bet about a hundred dollars that he had never seen his best friend so ridiculously protective before. "She's not twelve," he tried, nudging Roman's shoulder, earning a displeased grunt.

Oh, of course Peter didn't get it. Roman Godfrey, sweetly zipping up my jacket-- the simplest of all things. Nonetheless, it brought a twinge of scarlet to my cheeks as I spotted a group of cheerleaders passing us on the way to the school entrance; the looks of seething jealousy in their eyes only brought me joy. A part of me wanted the sight of Roman being sweet to leave them with a feeling of pure agony. I wanted them all to suffer. Always. For their heads to be bashed in like Jasmine nearly did to herself into her locker; I wished it upon them. On them all.

... I needed to snap out of this.

Roman had been right-- it was getting chilly in Hemlock Grove. I shivered when he finished buttoning my buttons, smiling down at him where he sat with Peter, glad none of them could read my thoughts. I wondered whether Roman would be horrified or... comforted by the fact that I was capable of wishing cruelty upon others, just like him.

It didn't matter. None of it did. Especially not now that he was looking up at me with those big, green eyes of his with his hands tucked into his jacket, looking handsome as ever. From this angle, Roman's shoulders were almost broader, and the more I thought about his physique, the more I thought about last night when he was completely undressed.

Completely undressed, on top of me, loving me.

... Loving me.

If only he did.

Fuck-- I couldn't think about that right now. The need to draw him in and have him all over again would overcome me soon, and I needed to push it down. It would be quite unfortunate if I started acting like a cat in heat every time I saw him from now on. "I need to get to class," I said, keeping my hands to myself despite how much I wanted to run them through Roman's hair.

His eyes softened as he scanned me, jacket fully zipped up and all. "What do you have now?" he asked, now toying with the fabric of my pockets.

"Math, sadly,"

Peter looked like he couldn't wait to escape the tension that ensued the two of us being in such close proximity. "Oh, right," Peter muttered, clicking his tongue against his palate as he sat back on the banister. "Math, second period... With Letha, right?"

The name was enough to make me freeze, and just for a second, it felt like the air got colder. I was sure I might've even flinched. The image of Letha in my dreams, white as though drained of blood, clouded my vision as my heart started to thump painfully. Why was I reacting like this?

Also, Roman looked like he had been greatly offended by something. With furrowed brows, he sat back and sent Peter a look of what the fuck. "How do you even know that?" he muttered, reaching one arm forward to drag me closer by my waist, his eyes not leaving Peters’ to scan his every minuscule reaction.

I was relieved by Roman's touch-- my fingers dipped into the short hair at the nape of his neck, unsure what was happening.

On the other hand, Peter seemed to have a hard time recovering from what I could only guess was a slip-up. "I don't know," he said, shrugging as his eyes shied away. "I just remember it, I guess."

Roman snapped; "Why?"

Okay-- I didn't want to be here for this conversation. I couldn't hear more about Letha, not after my cryptic dream. It didn't make matters any better that Peter was right, and that I would see her in my next class. I stopped playing with Roman's hair, placing a short kiss to the top of his head; "I'm heading off," I mumbled, nodding shortly to Peter before excusing myself.

Having got a quick whiff of Roman's heavy, intoxicating perfume, I closed my eyes and clutched my books tightly to my chest as I walked to class. The sheer smell of him, the softness of his hair, the kindness of his gestures-- it all made my head wander back to last night. The way it felt to have him inside me, how he took care of me, and how good it all felt. Allowing the memories to float back into my mind, I didn't realize I was walking around with a bright smile on my face until I sat down in math class and got a few odd looks from the other students around my seat. I wasn't usually this cheery, I suppose.

Life felt good. When I thought about Roman, everything felt great. I made myself comfortable behind my desk, feeling my tummy tingle with my reminiscing of last night; I wanted him more than ever. Now that I knew we could be together like that, I wasn't sure how I was supposed to be able to detach from him. And just as I thought I was about to explode into a burst of butterflies, I stuck my hand in my coat to reach for my phone, only to find what felt like crumbled-up paper.

Confused, I unfolded it;

i miss the look on your face when you cum. miss you miss you miss you. let's find a quiet place somewhere and get very very noisy after school, what do you think about that? do tell. i want to know your every thought, actually. what makes you tick, and so forth. know that i'm probably thinking about you right now. always.

- your favorite (hopefully)

Oh, Roman and his notes. When had he managed to put it in there? A few minutes ago, when he toying with my pockets? Sneaky. I was dead sure my cheeks had turned a peculiar shade of pink by the time I felt someone put down their bag in the empty seat next to me, and I was too drunk on the euphoria to glance at my partner for today's class. How I loved Roman-- I loved him to the point where the tips of my fingers burned when I thought about him. And knowing he was probably in class now as well, thinking about me too... no, it was almost too much to bear.

However, when something much harder to face suddenly sat down next to me, I would've loved to get sucked right back into my tingling cave of Roman-comfort.

Letha.

Letha was here.

Letha was sitting next to me, gazing back at me with those trademark green Godfrey eyes.

Fuck. I immediately crumbled up the note, stuffing it down my pocket to hide the content of it from her. Knowing Letha, she'd probably barf at the sight of the first sentence. "What are you doing?" I hissed, glancing around to scour the classroom for empty seats. "There's a free table two rows down--"

"I like sitting here," Letha's face remained free of strong emotion, and she turned away to unpack her supplies. "It's close to the window, and I need the natural sunlight. It helps the headache I get from the lamps in here, don't you remember?"

She said it so matter-of-factly, and for a second, it felt as though I had been teleported back to two months ago. I didn't know how to act around Letha anymore. "Sure," I mumbled. Just my luck.

As class started, I would glance over at Letha every once in a while. She seemed so peaceful, undisturbed by my presence, and I wasn't sure why that annoyed me to this extent. Was it perhaps the fact that she sought out forgiveness from me when she refused to give me any in return? That she was seeking acceptance about the situation only when it suited her?

It was odd to look at Letha and see her in colours. After my dream last night, I could only see her in her undead form, dead to me.

To my dismay, Letha leaned over to my side of the table a little later that class; "Do you have a pencil?" she whispered.

A Godfrey asking to borrow my pencil? It usually led to no good. Still, I handed her one--

"Thank you,"

"No problem,"

This was so weird. It felt too normal, yet it was agony to act that it was. However, the situation only worsened when the teacher asked us to work in pairs and solve an equation on the board. I held my breath, daring to glance at Letha; she was already looking at me. "You have no clue how to solve this stuff, do you?"

I shrugged. She knew me too well. "You've probably already solved it in your head,"

Letha's smile was kind, genuine. "Want me to show you how to do it?"

"Nah,"

"Do you even do your homework anymore?"

I knew her question was coming from a good place. I could feel it. After all, I barely managed to do my homework when Letha and I had regular study sessions at her place. Just thinking about it made me remember the sweet smell of her sheets, which never mixed well with the incense she was always burning for 'good karma'. "Roman has a guy that does them for him, and I write my answers off of his," I mumbled.

I expected the mention of him to put her off-- yet Letha simply nodded, raising her brows in a conniving look. "He's corrupted you,"

"I've let him,"

"I know," Letha's green eyes shimmered with words untold as she echoed; "I know."

It was odd to face her like this. For her to know my feelings for Roman, and not walk off this time. This was the first conversation we'd had in months where we weren't at each other's throats. And suddenly, Letha took the leap I wasn't allowed to take-- she leaned in closer as she dared to whisper the forbidden words; "I miss you,"

Oh no. "Letha--"

"You never said goodbye, and now a part of me believes you're coming back,"

I let out a shaky breath as I moved my chair further away from hers. What she said had been too close to the words in my dream last night. It was chilling. "Of course I never said goodbye," I hissed back, feeling my emotions boil to a simmer. "You didn't let me." There it was, laid out in the open. "You cut me off, Letha." She had. "And you left me for dead!"

Letha held her breath high in her chest as her mouth formed a tight line. It wasn't until she moved her chair closer to mine and gripped the table harder that she allowed herself to breathe; "I left you for dead because you basically fucking stabbed me!"

"I didn't mean to!"

"And you think I did?" Letha hissed. "You gave me no choice!"

"That's not true! I came clean to you, and the least you could've done was to!--"

"Yeah, well, I'm sorry!"

We stared at one another in silence. There it was, my apology, served on a silver platter. I had heard it once before, but Roman wasn't here to control the outcome of it this time. Something within the bounds of my soul was relieved of anger and tension, and I couldn't halt the result of it; "I'm sorry too,"

Letha froze for a good second or two. Her lips parted in disbelief as her grip on the table lifted, and she sat back in her chair with a slow nod. It gradually dawned on her what this meant for us.

"Do you think it could work again?"

I indulged with a soft sigh; "What could, Letha?"

"Us," she said, allowing tears to well in her eyes. "You and I. Our friendship."

It was easier to breathe, all of a sudden. I knew that an apology wasn't enough to mend our wounds, but it was a start. I nodded along with Letha and watched as the corners of her mouth tugged upwards into a smile-- I caught myself mirroring it.

"So..." she tried.

"So..."

"Did you hear that Brooke Bluebell bought a big needle from a pharmacy?"

I grimaced; "What? No, why?"

"To get her revenge on Roman," Letha held back a laugh, biting down on her lip as she turned to write down the answer to the math equation. "From a few months ago, if you remember the whole ordeal."

"Oh," I breathed. "Needle-gate?"

"Needle-gate,"

Despite how concerning the big needle sounded, it was a funny reminder of the past; "I've gotta tell Roman,"

"Yeah, you better. I think he's blocked me, so I'm out of the picture," Letha sat back in her chair after finishing her work, and she glanced back at me as she tapped the pencil against the paper. "You've gotta tell him about prom too."

"... Prom?"

"Yes, prom," Grabbing her bag, Letha rummaged around for a few seconds until she found a flyer. It was purple, super lavish-- "It's in two weeks, I think. Kinda short notice, but I have a feeling he'd secretly want to go. He's into the classics, so I'd suggest you indulge him."

I felt my cheeks turn red as I kept my eyes on the flyer. Just the thought of me in a dress, Roman in a suit; it made me warm. Uncomfortably warm. "I think he'd rather die, actually," I mumbled, handing it back to Letha. "Are you going?"

"Meh, don't think so," She stuffed the flyer back into her bag and sighed, reaching for her phone. "The guy that I'm into says he doesn't want to go, so I'll stay home."

It hit me that this was the first time I didn't know who Letha had a crush on. Previously, she would tell me all about them. There was a Tyler, there was a Scott, and then there was a third one who had a really peculiar last name. And just as I was about to scour my brain for more names, a particular one popped up on Letha's phone as she turned it on;

Peter: I think it's time to...

That was all I was able to see, as she needed to click on it to read the whole message. My eyes widened as I sat back in my chair, sending Letha an odd look. It was clear by her body language that she hadn't intended for me to see that, and she immediately flipped her phone.

... Was something going on?

Letha cleared her throat and turned back to me with the same smile, yet it felt disingenuous. "That's a different Peter," she said, a somewhat panicked squeak to her voice. "It's the neighbour. He might be complaining about the amount of cars my dad has parked on our street, cause they don't fit into our garage anymore. It needs to be discussed, apparently. It's time, or whatever."

That seemed like a typical rich-kid problem. I could somewhat buy it. "Is it a Godfrey thing to be crazy about cars?"

"Just you wait until you hear about the cigarettes. Dad's a real chain-smoker,"

"... Don't tell me they're cinnamon-flavoured?"

Letha sighed; "Sadly, yeah. The garage smells like a goddamn gingerbread house,"

The laughter that followed wasn't intentional, and it blended in with the ring of the bell.

This was nice. To see the smile on Letha's face felt good, like a warm soup when you have a cold. It was a comfort to know that we could finally be normal around each other, despite the fact that we would possibly never be friends again like before, or even forgive one another. I doubted that I ever could, fully.

However, just as I was about to excuse myself, I spotted a silhouette by the door which made my blood run cold.

Fuck.

Roman.

I saw it in his eyes immediately. The confusion, which quickly morphed into something darker, anger-like. My laughter died down in an instant as my body kicked into a fight-or-flight response, suddenly scared out of my mind to be caught laughing with Letha-- she seemed to catch on momentarily, but remained in her seat as she watched me shove all my supplies and books into my backpack, hurrying to get to Roman.

I had forgotten that he wanted to pick me up after class. I had forgotten my promise to not fraternise with the enemy-- fucking stupid.

Hoping to conceal the slight tremble in my hands, I put one of them on Roman's arm when I caught up to him in the doorway, smiling up at him with an anxious breath stuck in my chest. "Hey, you," I tried, giving the sleeve of his shirt a gentle tug as I always did, a plea for him to bend down and kiss me. It was impossible to reach all the way up to his lips without it, anyway.

But Roman's attention hadn't left Letha. His eyes had narrowed, glaring at her with fury apparent in the way his jaw clenched. Had telepathy been a real thing, I'd have thought they were yelling at each other through their minds. I almost wanted to butt in and say Letha wasn't bothering me, that we were having a normal conversation-- however, I knew that would only make it worse.

"Come," Roman said with a low growl, unlike anything I had heard from him before. With one last scorned look at Letha, he gripped my wrist and started marching down the hallway; I didn't expect to be yanked from my place the way I was, and I was sure my legs were fully in the air for a microsecond or two; "Roman!--"

"This day just keeps getting worse," he muttered, not waiting for me to find my balance as he continued to drag me down the hallway.

Roman's grip around my wrist was hard. "Slow down!" I tried, grabbing his arm with my free hand. "It's not what it looks like! It's not-- " Everything about this made me dizzy, and his sudden anger made the familiar feeling of dread pool in my stomach. It only got worse when he pulled me into an empty classroom, slamming the door shut behind us.

I took a few steps away from him, waiting for the bomb to explode. My breath came out in short, ragged motions as my hands remained clenched by my sides in anticipation. It felt like I was five years old again, waiting to get reprimanded for having drawn on the walls. "Roman, I--"

"Shut up," Of all the things I expected, it wasn't this. Not at all. Because suddenly, my body was pressed against the door of the classroom with Roman's arms around me, and his lips pressing needy kisses to my neck. My bag dropped to the floor-- What the...?

"Not here," was all I managed to say before my breath hitched, and my hands automatically flew up into his hair. "Roman, please, wait--"

"No," He was more dismissive than ever-- I wondered why I sort of liked it. Why it made my stomach tingle, why I wanted him to do whatever he wanted to me. Was it possibly after what had happened last night? "No more bullshit."

I closed my eyes, hoping we'd have a few seconds to disperse if someone walked in on us right now. With the force of Roman's weight against mine keeping the door firmly shut, I was sure of it. My head lulled against the door as I felt him latch on a particular spot on the side of my neck, marking my skin with his possession. I knew I was screwed-- you can't get more screwed than this.

I was sure I disassociated for a few seconds, because suddenly, Roman's lips brushed against my ear, and I had to suppress a shiver. "We're gonna have a damn serious talk," he said, keeping me still against the door. "We need it. I need it."

Something told me we wouldn't be talking much if he continued kissing me like this. "Let's-- Let's talk, then,"

When Roman pulled away, I could finally see the frustration on his face. The way his brows were drawn together, how high his breath was in his chest, and the narrow glare of his gaze. Still, I didn't think it would result in this; it took me a while to realize his hands were no longer at my sides, and that they were now unzipping my jeans.

"What are you doing?" I breathed, grabbing at his wrists. "Don't--"

"You think you can outsmart me?" It was as though someone had ripped the curtains off its hinges, now revealing what was always hidden behind them. Roman's breath fell heavy against my cheek as a small twitch of his upper lip revealed his inner turmoil; "You think you can tell me one thing, and then do the opposite when I'm not looking?"

My anxiety grew as I realized Roman's strength was unmatched. There was nothing I could do to fight him. "What are you talking about?" It was hard to come up with a cohesive sentence when I was this stressed.

"Peter told me, y'know," Roman continued, a low growl in his voice prevalent in ways it had never been before. "He told me the obvious, of course. That Letha is trying to reconcile, that she misses you... But then he told me the part I didn't know. The part you probably didn't want me to know."

It was with his last ominous words that he managed to dip his fingers past my waistband, past the hem of my underwear, and placed two fingers on my clit. The unexpected touch immediately made me squirm against the door, squeezing my eyes shut. "Why-- Why are you doing this?" was all I managed to stutter out, my hands still locked around his wrist. He knew I didn't want this. He knew. "I don't-- don't know what you're--"

"Talking about?" Roman rubbed rough circles around my clit as he placed his forehead against mine, pressing my head further up against the door. "Oh, so you're not gonna tell me?" His voice got more patronizing, as though this was fifth grade and he was teasing me in the courtyard-- "Is my good little girl gonna be real stupid and not tell me? You wanna act dumb with me, huh?"

Something about his tone made my cheeks burn. His tone, his words. This was not a good way to find out about a possible kink. My mind dulled with the stimulation against my clit, and it didn't take long before I eventually felt my arousal pooling. In all ways of the word, I felt like my body was betraying me. "Not here," I echoed, breath hitching. It felt like he was pressing a button on me, like I was a toy, thoughtlessly repeating it over and over; "Not here, Rome-- N-Not, here, please--"

"I'll stop when you tell me,"

"Tell you what?" I cried, squeezing his wrists as my hips bucked into his hand. Roman knew how to touch me, even if it was at my disadvantage. My mind was racing; someone could walk in, someone could see, someone could--

"How Letha helped you get us back together," Roman's breath was so warm, so angry, against my face, it felt like he was drawing my scorching red blush on my cheeks. "How you went and asked her for advice on how to decrypt me? Maybe you don't know me at all, is that it?"

I didn't want to think about this. I didn't want to be present. I didn't want to think about the fact that Roman had gotten the information all twisted, that Peter must've had quite an extensive talk with Letha to even know parts of this story, and that Roman couldn't find another way to talk it out than to do it like this. Forcefully. Because right now, it felt too good. It felt way too good. The sensation of his fingers rubbing circles into my clit, running them between my folds to gather up my slick, only to return to my bundle of nerves to make my legs shake with a mix of anxiety and pleasure, felt too good.

"That's not true," I tried in between heaves of air. What would it make me if I came like this? "That's not-- not true, Rome--"

"I won't ever be enough for you, will I?"

"No-- no, you're everything!--"

"Because the end of the day, you'll go back to Letha," Roman's voice was tight, restricted, as though he was holding back a heap of emotions. "No matter what I do, how gently I fuck you, treat you, you won't want to be with me forever. No one does."

If only he knew. If only he knew that I loved him. My hands let go of his wrist, and I placed my palms against his chest, forcing some space between us with a push. That seemed to do the trick-- Roman's fingers slowed down as our eyes met, and he was faced with my watery gaze. "I didn't lie last night," I said after finally catching my breath. "I've never lied to you." An unnervingly big part of me longed for him to rub me through my high, which was not too far away from the horizon, but the sane part of me knew I had to put an end to his venture into the dark ways of his past.

Roman's mouth pulled into a straight line; "Peter wouldn't lie to me either,"

"I'm not saying he is. He just got the story wrong,"

There was a long silence, and I knew this was my moment-- I reached for Roman's wrist again, and with careful, slow motions, I got his hand out of my underwear. "Letha heard us fight, and she came over to ask about it afterwards," I started. "There was no plotting. No decrypting. The only thing she told me, was to look for a bigger picture when it comes to fighting with you. I didn't ask for it! And what you saw just now, was us being friendly. Not friends. We will never be again, after everything that happened!"

"But... you were talking on the stairs," Roman echoed, as something in his gaze faltered. "I saw you when we were leaving the party."

Letha's following words were almost icy to the touch, hollow to the ear; "Was I right?"

It felt as though my world stilled. Time stilled. Just for a second, I felt as though I could wade my free hand through the coldness of her phrase, and I could wave away the mirage. She was concerned, curious. Had she genuinely wanted to help me get through this fight with Roman?

"Yeah," I breathed. "You were. Thank you."

Letha's face softened as a relieved sigh escaped her, nodding her head slowly. It had been a long time since the last time she had heard those words from me. "Any time,"

The memory was as fresh as day. "You were right next to me, Roman. If I was hiding something, I wouldn't have talked to her in front of you," I let go of his hand, letting out a shaky breath as he took another step away from me. I could sense that his mind was cracking itself in half. "I don't need Letha to tell me how to fix things with you. Contrary to what you were thinking, I do know you. And I know you well enough to see that this isn't you being angry with me, but rather your fucking abandonment issues surfacing because you haven't dealt with them yet!"

It was clear that Roman didn't expect me to raise my voice, but hell-- I was so done with this behavioural pattern of his.

"It might be good for me to not have the worst relationship with all the girls at this school, have you thought about that?" I said, feeling my fists clench at my sides. "That Letha and I being friendly and not at each other's throats might be good for me? And that it might also be good for your relationship with your cousin, mind you, who you've seemingly blocked?"

Roman remained silent, at a loss for words.

My breathing had yet to calm down, along with my arousal. "You will always be enough for me," I said, softening my tone. "You're all I've ever wanted. I'm not leaving you. But it doesn't matter how many times I tell you this unless you trust me." I zipped up my pants, huffing as I picked up my bag. It felt as though my knees were about to give out-- I could feel my slick dripping into my underwear. This was a feeling I never wanted to revisit again. Ready to storm off, to slam the door behind me with a bang and leave Roman here to wallow in whatever he was feeling at the moment, something else hit me like a blow to the head; "Wait, how did Peter know?"

It couldn't be. It seriously couldn't be.

Roman cleared his throat, no longer meeting my gaze. I could see it in the light pink of his cheeks that he was embarrassed about his outburst. "He said they talked at the party," he mumbled under his breath. "Briefly. Just for a second."

"Ah, is that right?"

Roman caught my tone, glancing up at me through his brows. "Why?"

"Don't you think it's odd?"

"... Maybe, I don't know? I was busy getting laid that night, don't ask me,"

I would've laughed had I not been so pissed off. I could see the lack of reaction on my face getting to Roman, and he gave in to a slight shiver. Finally, the roles were reversed, just for a second. "Rome?"

He looked relieved to hear me use his nickname-- "Yes?"

"You will never do anything like that to me ever again,"

Roman tucked his hands into his pockets, head hanging low. "I... really don't know what came over me--"

"Never," I snapped, biting my teeth together. I was afraid I'd start yelling. "You will never."

I wondered whether anyone had talked to him like this. If this was the first time in history that Roman had gotten a boundary imposed on him. Maybe by his mother when she was scolding him as a child, but after that? I somehow doubted it. He remained silent, eyes fixating on his polished shoes.

Finally getting the opportunity to look at him this close, I spotted the vial of my blood still hanging around his neck, poking out from beneath his shirt. In the back of my mind, after having read that stupid book on upirs, a huge part of me thought he was getting affected by it. That the constant smell of blood right underneath his nose was activating dormant senses, dormant thoughts.

But upirs weren't real.

Not.

Real.

Roman's silence made me feel unimaginably guilty, as though I had been the one to force myself upon him-- he looked like a kicked puppy. I hated it. So, I gathered my next breath; "Could you at least say you're sorry? Then I'll feel better about inviting you home for dinner later,"

Roman's eyes lit up as they met mine, surprised I'd even offer. "You... still want that?"

"I can barely breathe when we're apart, what do you think?"

He let out the breath he had been holding, falling apart; "I'm really sorry,"

I didn't want to dwell on it. Didn't want to think about the fact that the scared look on my face would probably get him going for months on end. That he'd think about it at night, when he woke up, and especially when he got off at the thought of me. The scared look in my eyes.

No. I didn't want to think about it.

Roman was the first to approach, slowly daring to tilt my head up with two fingers underneath my chin and kissing me with the utmost gentle touch. No tongue, no urgency-- just a small, soft brush of our lips against one another, creating sparks that went all the way down into the tips of my fingers.

Letha had been right when she first warned me about him, all those months ago. Roman was the epitome of an asshole. A core so rotten, it was impossible to carve out all the bad. You could try, you could dig, you could pray, but all of it would never go away. It would forever fester in his bones, infect the very basis of his DNA, and course through his veins.

But... when he kissed me like this, I could forget it.

I could forget.

When he kissed me like this, I only loved him more.

I knew I would love him forever.

And as the kiss deepened with the sweetest pressure, I reached for the vial of my blood around Roman's neck-- he didn't notice the way I twisted the capsule, figuring out which way to turn it so it would screw itself off. I had a feeling I would need to know this information in times of crisis.

Just in case.

Just in case.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

The rest of the evening went on as normal. Weirdly enough.

Roman had fully snapped out of his rage, and he had turned into a version of himself I hadn't seen before. He wasn't joking around. He wasn't making dirty jokes.

He was... calm.

Assured.

I knew this was probably a form of keeping on the low, to not take a wrong step and blow up in the minefield he had made himself. Roman laid still in my bed with his hands behind his head, watching as I scoured my closet. If there was going to be a prom, I had to look for a dress, right?

"What are you looking for?" he asked, yawning. "Need some help?"

I shrugged, hoping to brush his question off. It was a bit embarrassing to be talking about this, seeing as he hadn't asked me to be his date or anything. "Just looking for a dress... Wondering if I still have the one I'm thinking about,"

"What do you need a dress for?" Roman sat up in the bed, watching me like a puppy would.

"I... like dresses. Need to wear them more often,"

"But it's getting colder, don't you think it's better to wear something warmer for the season?"

What was up with this obsession of his lately? He had to keep me warm at all times, supposedly. "You sound so polite," I mumbled, wading through my clothes. "Stop looking so guilty, please."

Roman let out a sigh, running his hands through his hair. "I feel bad,"

This was intolerable. It gnawed on my heart. "I told you we're fine, so please don't," I turned to him with one hand on my hip, hoping to stare some sense into him; "I even wore this crazy top to make your mood better, look!"

Roman's eyes darted down to the hot pink crop top I was wearing, and he bit down on his growing smile to stay neutral. Nonetheless, I could see it on his face that he remembered exactly where I had gotten it, and possibly the feeling he had back in that closet when he came into the soft fabric of it. "I'd rather you wore my sweater, like usual,"

"It's in the washer. And this top is fucking iconic," I pointed to the words which were stretched out across my chest. "See? 'Rock on', in big, black letters. You need to rock on more, Roman."

His smile immediately cracked, and he propped himself up on his elbows as he leaned down on the bed. "I've done enough rocking for today, that's for sure,"

I finally saw a way I could turn his mood upside down. With a smug smile, I walked over to the pink speaker I got for my seventeenth birthday and connected it to my phone. "Rome, baby, who's big in rock these days?"

Roman chuckled, rolling over on his side to follow me with his eyes. "Depends what type of rock you're looking for,"

"Anything,"

"I don't know, then. Anything from Nirvana to Blur, I suppose,"

Bingo. I guessed that Roman was going for bands he thought I had heard of, and he had hit jackpot. With a click of a button, the intro to Song 2 by Blur started playing through the speakers, which earned me another laugh from my boyfriend. It was a typical rock song-- it started out rather quiet until it broke out into complete chaos.

I crawled back into bed, kissing my way up Roman's stomach, which only made his breath hitch. The giggles brewing in his chest resonated through my body that was pressed up against his, and I joined the laughter as I kissed his rosy cheeks. It was intimate, it was sweet. I loved that I could do this with him now, that he was comfortable enough to be put in a position like this, and that he allowed me to pull stunts like these.

And after all, I decided I would show my love through action, as I couldn't tell him about the extent of my feelings. I knew he'd get up and bolt right out the window like something straight out of a cartoon.

Roman caught his breath, placing his hands on both sides of my face-- all the emotions he couldn't tell me either were on display in his big, green eyes, roaming around the galaxies in his dark pupils. "I trust you,"

"... What?--"

"I keep thinking about what you said earlier," he tried, stroking his thumbs across the soft skin of my cheeks. "I promise I trust you. And I'm sorry that I get in my head about it, because you don't deserve that. You deserve so much better than what I can give you, yet... I want you to stay with me. I really, really want you to stay with me."

This was a rather deep conversation to be having with loud rock music in the background. I should've definitely picked something more mellow. With a sigh, I leaned down to kiss the tip of Roman's nose-- "I told you I'm not going anywhere," I breathed. "I'm yours forever, if you'll have me."

Finally, Roman's eyes lit up. Lit up like fireworks painting the sky. "Forever sounds nice,"

"It does, doesn't it?" It was impossible not to smile.

"It so does,"

It was a relief when he pulled me tightly to his chest and kissed me. It was the type of kiss I had dreamed of having in my bed on a lazy afternoon, the type of kiss which made my heart swell as it beat against his. The type of kiss which I had only ever seen in movies, the type of kiss I could never imagine would feel this good.

No one ever told me that making out with your boyfriend was such a thrill. To be tangled up as one, to be a heap of bodies coming together, to be a mess, and that it would make my whole being vibrate with joy. Roman's lips were so gentle to the touch, yet his kisses were so hot, all-taking, that I wanted nothing more than to melt into him and become one.

It didn't take long before he rolled us over-- I knew he wouldn't be the type to like anyone on top except for him. My hands were in his hair, tugging at the tips of his dark locks to make my fingers busy, as Roman's tongue licked a stripe up my lips; it was so soft, a feathery touch, and it drew out a shaky moan.

I didn't know any of this was possible before I met him. I really had no idea, silly me.

My mind didn't register the meek whine that escaped me, possibly to protect my psyche, as Roman pulled away. A thin string of saliva connected our lips as we simply breathed down at each other, gazing into the other's eyes-- I was sure mine widened a little when I felt something hard pressing against my lower abdomen.

Fuck, that was still damn hot.

It certainly gave the words rock on a new meaning, no?

"I need to ask you something," Roman breathed, followed by a sigh of relief when he heard the song was over. "But don't freak out on me, okay?"

I nodded, eager to have his lips back on mine again; "Sure,"

"And before you judge me, I'm not the biggest fan of this idea myself, cause I think it's kinda lame. Keep that in mind,"

"Okay?"

"So... Heh," Roman let out a soft, nervous laugh, nudging my nose with his. "You might actually want to find a dress for this to work, though."

My fingers traced circles into his hair; "Rome,"

"Yeah?"

"Stop rambling, please,"

"Oh,"

"You were saying?"

"Oh," Roman cleared his throat, placing a short kiss to my lips. "Do you want to go to prom?"

Had I not been trapped beneath him, I would've shot right out of the bed. My eyes widened as I pulled him in for another kiss, hoping to suppress the squeal that threatened to escape me.

"Wait, wait--" Roman's words were muffled against my lips before he raised himself up, still not done. What else was there to say, though? "So, you're going?"

"... What?"

"With friends, or...?"

"Roman, what friends?"

"Ah, right," Once again, he cleared his throat and got all serious again; "So... would you want to go with me?"

It took a second for it to dawn on me that Roman had been genuinely confused. That he thought I would be going with anyone else but him. That he thought, even for just a second, that there was a possibility that I would tell him no. "Are you crazy? Of course!"

Oh, how I loved him.

I loved him to bits.

And here I was, squealing about going to prom. Roman had made me a puddle of girly with his heartthrob-ways. It would've made me sick, had we not immediately gone back to making out, but this time, with bright smiles on our faces. Kissing someone while smiling was definitely in my top three of all things possible on earth.

Second place was being picked up like I weighed nothing, oddly enough. That was one of the perks of having a tall boyfriend, after all.

And the first place was a no-brainer. It was definitely sex.

Oh, and who would've guessed-- we'd end up having sex a few minutes later, believe it or not. When your boyfriend is this hot, it's impossible to resist. It was the type of sex that made up for his behavior at school today, the type of sex that made me melt into the mattress with joy and pleasure.

The cursed hot pink crop top was quickly discarded, and so was my sanity. Roman's kisses grew firm against me, muffling the sounds of my moans as his fingers dug into the soft flesh of my thighs, pinning them down and folding me into submission. It was official-- there seemed to be no etiquette to sex, and my parents being in the house was an obstacle that was easy to deal with.

Just... shut up. Keep your mouth shut. Right?

But it was so damn hard. Especially as Roman angled his cock right up against my sweet spot with the help of the pillow beneath me, making me whine in pleasure against the kiss he had locked me in to ensure my silence. It was impossible. It made my toes curl, made my vision blurry, and made my mind go into complete lockdown. I entered a phase where I almost didn't care, where I couldn't care less at all, and where the only important thing was for Roman to do whatever he wanted to me.

"Fuck-- me," I rambled, my hands skimming the muscular range of his broad back as I felt my need grow insatiable.

Roman let out a huff against me, the smile on his face a visible contradiction; "What am I doing, then, gorgeous?" He was so secure, so confident, that it was impossible not to let him do whatever his heart desired to me. I trusted him with my whole being, even as his grip around my thighs started to make them ache. My lower lip quivered; "Lo--"

No, no!

"Love this," My rambling needed to end, stat.

Roman smirked into the kiss that followed; "Me too," He seemed to be catching onto my overstimulated state, and the second I let out a sigh of relief when he let go of my thighs and the pounding against my sweet spot relented, he came right back with a move I didn't expect. Roman wrapped his arms around me, pulling me up into his lap with his cock still throbbing inside me.

I suppressed a surprised yelp. "Rome!--"

"Shh," He guided my legs around him as he watched me adjust to the new feeling-- he was deeper than ever, now, and it freaked me out a bit. "Stay quiet for me, okay?"

I was on the brink of tears. It felt like my thoughts had short-circuited and left me for dead. My breath tensed in my chest as I draped my arms around Roman's neck, grabbing a fistful of his hair to ground myself, just as I knew he liked it. "Let's try something new," he purred, hands traveling up my thighs to grab my hips, lifting me up along his shaft as I gasped into his open mouth.

Even when I was on top, Roman needed to have control. Perfect. That worked out well for me, actually.

The way he was looking at me made me feel like I was on fire. The green of his eyes etched into mine, watching me with unmatched amusement-- his lips were upturned into the usual smug smirk which made my heart dance in my chest, and in vulnerable moments such as these, it also resulted in my cheeks flaring up with an embarrassing shade of pink.

It didn't take long before we found a rhythm, and before I got used to practically riding him. It was different like this, especially when Roman's hands were simply a weight on my hips, and I could fuck myself on his cock. It felt like a permission of sorts, like he was telling me he was all mine, that I could do whatever I wanted to him-- like an exchange of submission. Although, of course, Roman would never fully submit to anything in the world.

It was easy to keep quiet when the soft pillows of his lips muffled the sounds of my inevitable moans, but when they left me, it became a fight against my conscience. A small gasp would escape me here and there, along with a loud hitch of my breath, and it eventually balled on into a breathy string of ah ah ah's-- staying quiet was an impossible task. I prayed to all the Gods above that my parents wouldn't hear the mess their dearest Roman was making out of their daughter.

They had no idea he could be like this. None. He was such a sweetheart at dinner, he'd always make sure to help my mom set the table, and he'd talk sports with my dad-- they had no idea. I could see it in Roman's eyes that he found the sight of me beyond amusing. That he got off me unraveling more than anything. He only made it harder for me to stay quiet as he pressed the heel of his palm to my clit, keeping me steady with a hand on my back as his kisses trailed down my body.

"A-Ah, Rome--" I was done for. I was done for.

"Shh, just a little more," Roman's lips had stayed at my clavicle for long enough to leave a mark. It dawned on me that he was leaving a trail of hickeys, and my fist in his hair tightened as my legs quivered. This was too many sensations at once. "A little more... You can take it, right?"

I couldn't utter a cohesive sentence. The pressure on my clit, his wet, eager kisses, and the way I could set the perfect pace as I slid up and down his cock made my brain buzz with static noise. I was sure my eyes had morphed into the shape of hearts as I let out a shaky, quiet moan, filling myself up with Roman's cock over and over. The best feeling in the world.

"That's my girl..." he cooed, grabbing my waist with his free hand. "Fuck yourself on my cock, it's all yours..." His pink lips parted with pleasure as he watched me sink down on his length, enchanted by the sight. It was a delight to watch the way his perfect up-do came undone, and the way his hair fell over his forehead in messy strokes. He looked unreal, godly.

Roman's words were enough to make my hips buck into his abdomen, but my state only got worse, deteriorated, as his mouth trailed down to my breast. The moan I had to suppress when I felt his tongue against my stiffening bud was unmatched-- I was sure I started panting as he took it into his mouth, suckling it swollen as I whimpered.

I wanted to let it spill past my lips; I love you, I love you, I love you. In that sense, sex was dangerous territory for me. However, how was I supposed to resist when it felt this good?

My lips ghosted over the parts of him I could reach, his ear, his cheek, and I let my breath hitch against his skin as a familiar feeling pooled in my tummy. Aware, Roman only drove the heel of his palm harder into my clit, making it so that I was grinding up against him with every lift of my hips against his length. I gave into a tremble, unsure how to stabilize myself in this position-- "Rome," I cried, pleading for him to kiss me. I wasn't sure I'd be able to suppress the sounds that were threatening to spill past my quivering lips when my high washed over me.

Roman's free hand remained at my breast, pinching my bud between his pointer and his thumb in a firm hold which had me wincing in pleasure. He kissed up my body, my shoulders, my neck, my jaw, my cheek-- yet he hovered inches away from my lips, the smirk still prevalent. "You lost," he whispered.

Lost what?

It was as though he read my mind; "You can't stay quiet, can you?"

I really wished I could. I was trying with all my might. But I was so, so damn close, and I shook my head, hoping he'd take pity on me.

"It's okay," he cooed, his breath falling hot against my cheek as he tilted his head as though to kiss me. "You were never meant to win."

And so I crumbled. Completely. Utterly. Euphoria tore through me as I fell apart in Roman's arms, and it didn't take long before he simply wrapped his arms around me, laid me back down, and fucked me through my high as I suppressed my sobs of pleasure into his shoulder.

Honestly? I didn't remember what happened next. Completely zen, relaxed, and thoroughly fucked, I considered myself logged off for the next ten minutes or so. However, I had to run over to my mental keyboard as Roman's hand, which was previously toying with my hair, pointed to my nightstand-- "What's that?"

With a small grunt, I raised my head from his bare shoulder. Fuck. My eyes sprung wide open as I spotted The Avoidable Vampirism on display, uncovered and everything. "Uh..." How could I have left that abomination out in the open? I gulped, turning to Roman with a doe-eyed expression that I knew worked well on him. I was sure my next words would put him off his incoming queries in an instant; "It's the sequel to Twilight. Vampire erotica, the usual. Edward is gay in this book, Bella is dead, and there are tons of scenes where, uh... men kiss men. And suck each other off. Super interesting."

Unsurprisingly, Roman was immediately disinterested. "Girls," he mumbled, rolling his eyes before he pressed a short kiss to my lips. "Stop thinking about gay sex, go to sleep."

"I'm not thinking about!--"

"Sleep!"

Chapter 12: prom night

Summary:

Going to prom with Roman Godfrey had been a dream of yours for longer than you could remember-- but suddenly, that was the only thing you could remember. Seriously. What the fuck happened last weekend, and why is Roman keeping you in the dark about it?

Notes:

hey everyone!!<33 I'm finally back!! I've spent a month preparing this, and this has been the chapter I've been building up to ever since I started this series... I suggest you read it in one sitting because I intended it to be read that way, (although I know that is a lot to ask!!! not necessary boo), and I'm sorry about everything in advance aghhh😭 much much love, ENJOY, and read at ur own risk!!!<333 MWAH

Chapter Text

Have you ever thought about death? Of course you have, everyone has-- but have you ever felt it?

Have you felt it lingering in your forearms, like you're pressing them up against a flaming stove? Have you felt it pressing at the sides of your head, waiting for it to cave in on itself? I always thought it would feel like going to sleep; that no matter how you pass, you reach a point where your mind flips over into delirium, and then you feel drowsy until it's over. Yet somehow, I was suddenly convinced it was nothing like that. I was sure that it felt like nothing but pure panic, accompanied by a crippling fear unlike any other. Because it hurt, everything hurt, and I was sure I'd be stuck in an endless loop of hell where I would forever be semi-conscious and in excruciating pain.

And why?

Because right now, I was sure I was dead.

That I was done. Deceased. Expired. I was so, so sure, and I had no idea why everything was black, why I couldn't move, or why I felt my lungs freeze over with the inability to breathe.

It lasted for too long. Way too long. An eternity.

Up until it felt like a scream was being dragged out of me by force, like someone had grabbed hold of my tongue and tugged me forward-- a bright light shone through my lids before they sprung open in pure panic, and I arched off the bed with a shriek. It felt like I was taking my first breaths again, and I clawed at my chest as my nails dug into the fabric of my shirt, suffocating, suffocating, dying, tearing, tearing, panic, panic, why, where, how?--

"Pryce, do something!"

"Mr. Godfrey, sit down!--"

"Do something!"

I was still screaming when my hands were pried off my skin with an annoyed groan, still heaving for air as a man in a white coat now hovered over me. He forced my left eye to open wider with his cold, bony fingers, shining the light directly at my pupil. He was searching for any lack of reaction as I emptied my lungs, crying out in fear; it wasn't until I felt the scent of a familiar cologne fill my body that I started to fight my screams of panic.

I was sure it was Roman who was now pinning my hands down to the bed-- his indexes were pressing against my wrists, checking my pulse, the classic Godfrey move. He usually only did that when he was trying to make a point about him making my heart race, and that's how I was certain it was him.

Once the doctor finished, my cries had largely quieted down. All that was left was a series of whimpers and shaky breaths. "What's happening?" I struggled to ask, my voice cracking. I saw the doctor scowl at Roman, clearly frustrated by something. My lower lip quivered; why was I here? What was happening?

Why couldn't I remember anything?

When the doctor spoke, he was still not looking at me; "You're at the Godfrey Institute, getting what is considerably the best care in the world," He moved away, tutting as he sat down on the chair opposite the bed I was lying on. Coming to my senses, my eyes traced the room. The walls were painted an uncomfortably bright hue of white, and I was afraid I'd go blind looking at them for too long. However, the doctor's voice caught my attention once more; "You don't seem to be concussed, but I'll check your reflexes. Have you exhausted your lungs, or must I put you under as well? If you keep screaming and resisting, you will only make things harder for yourself."

"She'll be fine!" Roman barked, letting go of my hands. With swift, nervous steps, he now stood by my side as he stroked through my hair. I could sense his anxiety through the slight tremble in his fingers, and he squeezed my shoulder with his free hand as he spoke to the doctor with a lowered voice, as though I wouldn't hear him if he softened his tone; "She will be, right? Pryce?"

Doctor Pryce rolled his eyes as he looked over at the metal tray beside him, scanning the neat display of medical instruments. "Did you bring this girl to me to question my care, or because you trust that I'm the best?"

"I'm!--"

"I was the one that delivered you into the world, Roman, don't forget that. Your mother trusted me with your life, so you have all the reason to exert some patience and trust me with this very simple task," Pryce picked out his preferred instrument and leaned forward, pressing on a button that made the back of my bed raise.

I yelped, still trying to catch my breath; "What's happening?" I breathed, hoping to contain the wave of tears threatening to spill down my cheeks. It felt like I had died and come back to earth. "Please, why-- why am I here?"

With one final anxious glance at Pryce, Roman finally looked down at me. It was the first time I had been properly acknowledged. "Hey, you," he said, gently running his fingers through my hair. "We were in a car crash, and you passed out. This is Doctor Pryce, and he's just making sure you didn't faint because of anything serious. You could've also lost consciousness because of shock, fear... Many factors. This is just a precaution."

"Car crash?" I echoed. "What-- Why can't I remember?-- Ow!"

A panicked cry escaped me, and I looked down to see Pryce with what looked like a hammer, striking the supple area beneath my knee socket. My leg jumped up automatically, and the doctor let out a satisfied hum before he moved on to my other leg. "Miss, do you get enough sleep?" he asked. "On the regular, that is?"

I had never been this disoriented in my life. "I don't-- I don't know?"

With an exasperated sigh, Pryce muttered a simple alright. He sat back down in his chair, now gazing at me with a blank, neutral look. Something told me he had practiced that exact expression for his patients. "You seem to have experienced what is called a situational syncope. You must've gone into a deep state of shock, which caused your blood pressure to drop, ultimately knocking you out. Based on the tests we got done on you when you were unconscious, there seems to be nothing wrong with you,"

I forced down a sob as I squeezed my eyes shut. My body was still frozen with panic. Despite my efforts, I couldn't conjure the memory of the supposed car crash; what was happening to me? "There has to be something wrong!" I cried. "I can't-- I can't remember anything!"

Sighing, Pryce got up, but not without glaring at Roman once more. "You might have a minor case of amnesia. It's most likely short-term and will resolve in twenty-four hours, or it might not," He moved to a nearby table, writing down something on a computer. "It might be time to lay off the nocturnal activities, Roman. It's important that she sleeps."

My face had never been redder. Never. To be told to lay off sex in front of your boyfriend's family doctor? Awful. Not something I recommend anyone else go through.

However, in true Godfrey fashion, Roman didn't seem to care about that part. "Thank fuck," he said, letting out a relieved breath as he bent down to kiss my forehead. I could sense the ease settling in his body, and it made me wonder when it could transmit to mine as well. "So she's completely fine?"

"Yes," Pryce grumbled, absentmindedly tapping away on his keyboard.

"No internal bleeding, no injuries?--"

"She's fine,"

Roman nodded, and I thought that would be the end of it until he spoke again; "Will she remember... everything?"

My blood ran cold. Something about the way he said those words made me feel like it was ominous. I blinked, staring up at Roman as my heart beat hard in my chest.

Pryce's clacking stilled. He turned, moving sharply, as his eyes narrowed; "For your sake, I hope not,"

It only took me a second to reach for Roman's hand, grabbing it as fear ran through my veins. "Rome," I echoed, begging him to look at me. I needed to know. It didn't feel like a simple car crash; why was I still shaking? Was this normal? I was terrified that I wouldn't remember anything. "Please, you have to-- you have to tell me what!--"

"Shh, it's okay," Roman cooed, wiping that terrified look off his face in an instant. "Everything is fine, see? The nice doctor says you just need to sleep, so what do you say I drop you off at your place and make sure you sleep well tonight?"

I could hear Pryce snicker as he got up, gathering what he needed from the room. "The nice doctor," he echoed, shaking his head. Everything he did felt oddly sterile. Everything from the smile to the polite tilt of his head. "Sleep would be the best remedy, yes. And maybe some shopping."

Roman scrunched his nose-- "Shopping?"

Pryce nodded, pointing to my shirt which I had partially clawed up. "Shopping,"

I couldn't imagine I would ever get any redder than this. Why couldn't amnesia take this memory too? I wanted to disappear-- however, when I thought about the black void I had been thrust into before I awoke, I changed my mind. I was happier than ever to be alive. When Pryce left the room, I let out a shaky breath as I locked eyes with Roman; "Rome, please tell me how the fuck we ended up in a!--"

My words were stolen as two large hands grabbed my face, and my favorite pair of lips came crashing down onto mine. Roman was now partially on my bed, rushing his kisses as he pulled me close in sheer desperation. "You had me so scared," he breathed. "So, so--"

Grabbing onto Roman's hair for support, I could only yelp as he practically toppled me, kissing me with urgency. "You can't do that," he begged. "You can't, you-- you can't--"

I was beyond overwhelmed. Exhausted. Still, I could sense that Roman had almost been as scared as me. "Please, Rome!--"

"What would I have done if you got hurt?" He grabbed my face harder, forcing me to look into his teary eyes when he relented his attack on my lips. "It would've killed me. It would've killed me." The desperation, the panic, was evident in his big, green eyes as they searched mine.

When would this be over? "I don't even know what happened!" I cried. "I don't remember, and it scares me! What if I won't-- won't remember it?"

I hoped he would tell me. I hoped Roman would sit me down and tell me in excruciating detail. However, his brows came together and drew upwards in a look of pure pity; "It doesn't matter. Look at it like it's mercy,"

"Mercy?"

"I'm glad you don't remember," Roman breathed, pressing a passionate kiss to my lips before he leaned his forehead against mine. "I don't want you to remember it... I'm kinda glad you don't. You don't need to remember the bad stuff, right? I only want you to be happy. Happy, safe, and with me. Forever."

Forever.

I let out a shaky breath which fell against Roman's lips, defeated. It still lingered in my body-- death. Like something really, really bad had happened.

... Had it?

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

The air smelled like freshly mown grass although it was growing freely all around us, untamed. The long branches of the willow tree kneeling above us swayed with the breeze, and the leaves rustled with a gentle buzz; it was beautiful to look up at, even in the dark of the night.

Roman was lying next to me, eyes shut in peace that had only recently settled in his body. His chest rose and fell in slow, calm motions as his brown hair wove into the long strands of the grass. I had an inkling that he was getting comfortable with it now-- with the idea of forever. That I was his for as long as he'd have me. That he had someone to go through life with, after all this time finding solace in fleeting moments of intimacy with the girls that were lucky to be near him at the right moment.

Roman was unbelievably beautiful. Unreal.

I still had no idea what happened that day I woke up at the Godfrey Institute a week ago, convinced I had died. It was hard not to think about it, but sleep had done me good-- Doctor Pryce had been right. My memory of the incident hadn't returned, and I had a feeling it never would. Every so often, I would get specs of it when I heard a particularly loud car, or whenever the smell of diesel got very strong from Roman's red jag, but that was the end of it.

However, the whole car crash incident had set Roman off into a weird state of possessiveness. Not one night had passed without him sneaking in through my bedroom window, lying next to me to make sure I wasn't on my phone until three a.m., and that I was getting enough sleep. I had watched Roman doze off into slumber countless times, both next to me and on top of me, and I had loved to stroke his hair and watch him sleep every time. It was the only time I felt he ever got to rest properly. Never ever during the day. Which is why, now that Roman was doing the same for me, I started to feel more at peace with what had happened. With the crash. With what I didn't know. As long as I had Roman, I would be fine, right? I was sure of it now.

Not only had the car crash left Roman and I in a weird state, but my parents as well. They were wary of me needing to get enough sleep and rest, so they had given me a rather strict curfew up until prom night. This curfew also involved not having Roman over as much, meaning we had to get creative-- so here we were, lying next to each other in the grass at his secret hiding place around midnight, where we had previously exchanged our blood.

"Rome," I whispered, watching the swaying willow branch above me. "You put on an alarm, right? I can't be out for too long, I'm scared my parents will find the pillow concoction we put on my bed and know I'm not home..."

He hummed, his eyes remaining closed-- "We have about thirty minutes until I have to take you back. I'm keeping track of it,"

"You don't seem to be keeping track of anything right now,"

"Nonsense,"

"... You look like you're sleeping,"

"But I'm not, am I?" Roman's eyes met mine, his lashes hanging heavy over the green color of his irises. With a tug at the corners of his lips, he sung a short, mocking line; "I don't want to close my eyes!--"

Oh no. "Rome, don't!--"

"-- I don't want to fall asleep, 'cause I miss you, baby!" His laugh was as melodious as his half-assed attempt at serenading me.

I snorted, no longer sleepy. This was beyond cringe. "You're an idiot,"

"And yet you're crazy about me," Roman purred, moving closer to me on the grass. The tips of his fingers, which had barely grazed mine a minute ago, were now running along the back of my hand in soft motions. "That says more about you than it says about me."

I turned my hand as I smiled to myself, feeling my chest burn with the warmth I got from being near him. If only he knew I was more than crazy about him. If only he knew. "Yeah, you're right," I mumbled, intertwining our fingers with a content sigh. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

I didn't deem my words to be as heavy as Roman suddenly made them seem-- it was as though the leaves stopped rustling. As though the air no longer smelled like grass, and the only thing I could smell was suddenly only Roman's heavy, expensive perfume. Something stilled. Was it the waves of the water nearby? His eyes softened with his next exhale, pupils rounding out. It was almost as though I could see the pounding of his heart as his chest fell. "I don't know how I ever lived without you in the first place," he confessed. "It kills me that you were so close all this time, and... I didn't notice."

Thinking back at the time when Roman would barely look my way was excruciating, even now. "It doesn't matter--"

"We had chemistry together," he breathed. "You were so close." Roman no longer looked at me, and instead turned his gaze to the hanging branches of the willow tree we were lying beneath. "I used to think I was the center of the universe, y'know? That the world was mine, along with everyone living in it. I thought I was everything I ever needed, that no one else truly mattered except for me, but then..." He cleared his throat, an empty look in his eyes. "This is getting cheesy, isn't it?"

Silly, silly boy. "You were literally singing at me a minute ago, I think I can take you being sweet,"

The small upward tug of Roman's lips lifted an ache in my heart. "The past doesn't matter. But the future does, as long as you're in it with me,"

I love you, I love you, I love you. It was echoing in my head. "Grow old with me, Roman?" I hoped it would come off as a joke. I hoped he'd sense the smile in my words, the lightness in which I proposed the hypothetical.

But he was so serious. So, so serious, as he turned to meet my eyes. And just for a second, I was scared he'd open his mouth and tell me he couldn't get old-- I had read too much of that upir book. "I don't want to get old," he mumbled. "Old people don't have a lot of sex."

It was impossible not to laugh. "They probably do,"

"... Gross,"

Rolling my eyes, I gave his hand a squeeze. "I'd have sex with you. You'd still be the Roman I lo--"

Fuck.

Oh, fuck.

I choked my words with a cough; "This damn grass," I cursed. "I might be allergic..." Gathering courage, I glanced over at Roman as I held my breath.

He seemed to be holding his too.

It took longer than expected for any of us to say anything. With small movements, Roman slid his hand up to my wrist, pressing his index against my pulse.

I cleared my throat, breaking out into a nervous laugh. "Okay, let me clear that up. The coughing made it sound like I was saying something that I wasn't saying."

"Oh?"

"Yeah," Why was my throat so dry? "I was gonna say that you'd still be the same Roman I long for."

"Oh..." He seemed both relieved and disappointed. I couldn't read him. It was too dark. "Okay. I'll hold you to it when we're eighty, then."

My heart was still racing. Had I gotten away with that or was he letting me? "So you're basically saying you won't be jumping me when we're old? I'm disappointed. And on top of that, I think you'd still be yourself at eighty, no? Or will you no longer be so nympho when you reach a certain age?"

"... You have a point," Roman's classic smirk was back-- I had never been happier to see it. "I'll always want you, I'm afraid."

"No matter what?"

"No matter what,"

"Are you a hundred percent sure about that, Rome?"

"I'll do you one better. Hundred and one,"

It was impossible not to smile. I loved him so much it hurt; I needed to mend it. "... Even if I turn into a worm?"

The groan he let out blended in with the ringing of the alarm he had put on.

As Roman pulled me up from the grass, I realized how much I loved everything about this night. I loved that he wanted to see me so bad that he was sneaking me out of my room. I loved the feeling of my hand in his, loved the sight of his smile, loved every inch of him. I only wished we could stay this happy for an eternity-- an eternity with him would be so unbelievably nice.

And if Roman loved me too, I'd let him love me forever.

I'd love him till the day I died, tirelessly, endlessly.

... Even if he was a worm.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

There was a lingering warmth in my body, yet I waited for the other thing to leave. The feeling. The doom. The terror I didn't remember.

And while I waited, prom was a wonderful distraction.

My parents were out of town for the weekend, which allowed us to skip the awkward photos in the hallway that were usually customary for prom. I was sure Roman would've rather died than go through that.

Actually, I was half convinced someone else had told Roman to man up and ask me to go with him, because it seemed like I was getting too much of the good thing recently. It didn't make sense to me that he wanted anything to do with something like this. And for a second, I was convinced I had been right about it all along; when I walked down the stairs of my porch, it was impossible not to smile from ear to ear at the sight of Roman in his tux. He was sitting on the bonnet of his car, smoking a cigarette as always--

... Without so much as a reaction to me in my dress?

It felt like my whole body was on fire, like I was one of Roman's cigarettes. My smile faltered as I approached, not saying a word. I held my breath, watching the green of his eyes pierce mine. He didn't blink. He didn't budge. He simply held his cigarette to his lips, exhaling the smoke through his nose.

Something felt off. I should've known Roman Godfrey wasn't the classic prom-man. "Do you not like it?" I breathed, feeling my confidence collapse as I toyed with the fabric of my dress.

Roman's eyes immediately darted down to my fingers-- "Don't tear at it. I know you like doing that," He held out his cigarette as he scanned me. It took a few seconds too long. With quick steps, he got off of his car; "Get in."

What? "No,"

Roman turned to me, cocking a brow. "No?"

"No," This was nerve-wracking. "You're being weird. Tell me what's wrong, or I turn around and go right back in again."

Visibly taken aback, Roman let his cigarette fall to the ground before he pressed his heel to it. In our moments of intense eye-contact and silence, I could see the way he had styled his hair differently tonight. It wasn't slicked back or messy, which were the two alternatives he always alternated between-- no, it looked like he had put effort into giving it a bit more volume, like something out of an old Hollywood film with James Dean as the lead. I couldn't understand him, where he stood in front of me in his ridiculously expensive tuxedo; it was obvious that he cared about this, so what was happening here?

"Nothing is wrong," Roman finally answered. "I just don't have the words."

"Words for what? What's going on?"

"Nothing is going on," he muttered under his breath. "It just makes me feel stupid."

"What does, Rome?"

"I... have never been good at finding the right words. I always screw these things up," Frustrated, Roman put his hands in his pockets as he no longer met my gaze. "Saying you look good doesn't feel like enough... and telling you that you look beautiful feels weird, because I don't use that word for anything and that makes it sound rehearsed, so... I'm screwed. I'm looking at you, and I'm blanking. My heart is beating too fast."

Oh.

"Take your time," was all I managed to say. I love you regardless was the thing I would have loved to add.

Roman chewed on his lip, sitting down on the bonnet of his car again. He dared to meet my eyes as he reached for my hand; I took it, ready to take a step forward, before I caught Roman shaking his head. "You'd help me if you did a twirl," he said, a smirk nudging at the corners of his mouth. "Come on, now."

My heart lightened with the giggle that escaped me, and I could only blush as I did as told.

"There you go," Roman cooed, warmth dotting his cheeks when I faced him again. "I like your dress. You kinda look like a cupcake."

"What? I do not! This is a-line!"

"A what line?"

"No, it's!-- Oh, forget it," Men.

Roman laughed, reaching for my waist to pull me in between his long legs. Softening his grin, he glanced down at my dress; had I not been watching him so intently, I wouldn't have caught the way his eyes subtly rounded out when they met mine. "I never realized how unfair it is,"

I frowned; "What's unfair?"

"You. Looking like this. Making every other girl on the planet look like an afterthought," Roman paused, his smirk softening with something genuine; "And it's not just tonight, y'know? It's everything about you. It's the way you laugh, it's the way you think, it's all that is you, along with how you look at me like I'm not completely messed up. You're just perfect." Roman stilled, his thumbs rubbing circles into the fabric around my waist as his smile turned self-conscious. "Sorry, that probably sounds cheesy as hell... What the fuck is up with me these days?"

If only he knew. If only he saw that I was fighting the welling of tears in my eyes. I love you, I love you, I love you. "As long as you don't start singing again, I'll be fine,"

Roman's smile was soft, and so was the kiss he gently pressed to my collarbone. Everything about the way he was holding me made me blush. "Come on," Roman cooed, a mischievous look shimmering in his eyes. "I can't wait to arrive with the prettiest girl in town. Everyone's gonna hate us even more than they already do, and I need the fuel of their spite and fear to survive."

I rolled my eyes, muffling my laugh against the following kiss. "Okay, Pennywise. Just keep the carnage to a minimum tonight, alright?"

"Deal,"

Just as Roman was about to lean in to kiss me, I remembered something important-- I grabbed his shoulders, watching his eyes widen as I pinned him to his place. "And we need to keep you far away from Brooke Bluebell tonight, by the way,"

"Uh, not that she was on the agenda, but... why?"

"Rumour says she's bought a needle. For revenge, and all,"

Roman let out a laugh of disbelief before it dawned on him that I wasn't joking. "Oh," he breathed, frowning. "Seems like there might be some carnage after all, then."

"No, that's not funny!--"

"Come on, it kinda is!"

"Roman-- ugh, fuck it, let's just go!" I placed a soft kiss to his lips; "Don't say I didn't warn you."

After more back and forth banter, it was finally time to get going. However, as Roman opened the car door for me and I sat down in the seat, I was hit with a major deja vu when he started checking out his hair in the rearview mirror. I knew that he did that every time before starting the car, this wasn't something out of the ordinary-- but for the first time since the incident, I remembered something clearly.

I remembered just a fragment. A feeling. I had been upset the day of the crash, and so had Roman. Had we fought?

It was at the tip of my tongue, there was a faint taste of exactly what had happened, and I was about to roll right into the memory when Roman put his hand on my thigh. I looked over at him, my breath high in my chest; he noticed it immediately. "You okay?" he tried.

It was lingering in my forearms, like I was pressing them up against a flaming stove. It pressed at the sides of my head, waiting for it to cave in on itself; death. It felt like a countdown.

Counting down.

Tick.

Tick tick.

I will know soon.

I put my burning hand over Roman's, forcing a smile;

"Never been better,"

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

Walking around at prom, hand in hand with Roman Godfrey as he talked to a couple of his friends, was only something I had imagined in my wildest dreams. I used to bury my face in my pillow and blush just at the thought of him even looking at me.

Back in those days, I had a specific image in my mind; since I hadn't ever thought I would go to prom with Roman, I imagined I'd be there with someone like Daniel. Someone I didn't like. I don't know, it wasn't too important. However, my date would be the type to not want to dance, and I would be left sitting with him by some table while everyone danced. And this would (of course) be the point where I'd imagine Roman walking up to me, charming, cocky, and high on his sky-high self-esteem, to reach for my hand. He'd ask if I'd like to dance, and I would glare at my date before giving Roman an affirmative yes.

Then we'd dance. Slow. Close.

And in my dreams, Roman would look me in the eyes and tell me that he had loved me all along, that he would love me and only me for the rest of his life, that he had secretly been pining for me since the day he first saw me, that he was actually planning to propose right now actually, and then the whole prom would stop and gasp in jealousy as he got down on one knee, and then!--

I bit down on my lip, suppressing a laugh at the memory. It seemed so childish, now more than ever. I told myself to excuse my old, stupid daydreams; the mind wanders when you're crazy about someone.

Roman squeezed my hand; "What are you laughing about?"

Fuck. "Oh, just..." I glanced up at him, smiling uncontrollably. Alas, now that Roman was my boyfriend, I didn't need all of that ridiculous stuff. I only needed him by my side, and that'd be enough for me forever. "I just remembered something stupid."

Roman cocked a brow, the green of his eyes shining down on me despite the darkness of the room. "Keen on sharing?"

"Not so much,"

"Alright," he said, tsking. "Pervert."

"Hey!" My cheeks turned a peculiar shade of pink which I hoped wasn't visible beneath the dim lights. Why did he have to say stuff like that while standing next to his friends? Not that they were listening, anyway. Nonetheless, the cheeky look on Roman's face told me everything I needed to know about it. "It's nothing like that!" I tried. "It was actually kind of sweet..."

"Oh, yeah?" Nodding, Roman's hand went to the small of my back, excusing us before he started leading us away from his circle of friends. "Tell me, then."

"It's stupid!" I giggled, my blush deepening with the kiss he pressed to the top of my head as we walked. Giant man.

Roman rolled his eyes; "Tell me before I spike the punch and get us kicked out," We had now reached the other side of the room, and he turned me around to press my back against the wall. Like this, he was towering over me as always. Just the sight of it made my heart beat harder.

"It should be illegal," I muttered under my breath, reaching for his tie. Sweet-talking him would hopefully be distraction enough. "You in a suit--"

"Tux,"

"Tux," I didn't want to tell him about my childish dreams about prom. I was aware how stupid it sounded, anyway. I didn't need to give Roman more things to tease me about, did I? "You're very, very handsome."

"Aha," he hummed, unimpressed. "How long would my sentence to be, then?"

"If it was illegal?"

"If it was illegal,"

"Hmm... I was thinking six years and nine months."

Roman bit down on a grin. "Do I spot a subtle sixty-nine reference?"

Yes. "Pervert,"

We shared a laugh as my hands slid down his tie, but my brows drew together when I felt something hard between the top and second button of his shirt. My mind flared red lights-- "Is this what I think it is?" I asked, gazing up at Roman as my eyes rounded out.

He didn't seem to understand my reaction. "I always wear it," he said, shrugging. "Didn't want to take it off."

"Ah," I suppose it was sweet. That's all it was. It most certainly didn't remind me of my least favorite passage from The Avoidable Vampirism - The Upir;

There are even some upirs that are so assimilated, they can do experiments with blood or carry vials of it with them wherever they go— which is an inclination that should not be encouraged.

Should not be encouraged.

... Certainly not.

"I like feeling you close," Roman murmured, his long fingers now running past my waist as the sound of his voice pulled me back into the moment. "I don't like being apart from you, and having your blood with me at all times... feels like I'm carrying a piece of you, which I technically am." He bent down, his soft lips brushing against my ear-- it made my breath hitch. "What do you say we get as close as we can later tonight?" he whispered, a small kiss to my ear following. "Just you and me... And me in you?"

I could only smile. Especially as I spotted Brooke Bluebell and her cheerleader friends by the punch a little further away from us. I was sure my smile started to look rather sinister as my hand went into Roman's hair, pulling him closer as my eyes locked on Brooke's.

Fucking cheerleader whore. I hated her. I hated everything she represented. And honestly? I couldn't quite remember why. All I knew, was that seeing the jealous look on her face made my heart race with pride and joy.

... Something told me that Roman and I deserved each other. We were both evil in our own ways.

"That sounds perfect," I purred, leaning my head against the wall as Roman pressed soft kisses to my neck. "My parents aren't home, so..." I could feel him smiling against my skin at the reminder. It was such an exhilarating feeling. Especially when I knew Brooke was watching.

"Great," Roman murmured, pulling away to look down at me with a mischievous look shimmering in his green eyes. "Can't wait to fold you and hear you whimper."

My blush deepened in record time; "Pervert,"

Roman only grinned. I was sure he was gonna say something much, much worse, something that would've made my toes curl on the spot if they weren't currently pressed against the front of my slightly uncomfortable heels, if one of the prom chaperones hadn't started walking towards us with hasty steps and a grumpy look on his face. It hit me that we were probably standing too close for his liking, and that he was there to make sure the students were being appropriate, which... let's face it, we weren't.

I shook my head with panic as Roman opened his mouth to speak, and he seemed to catch onto what was happening rather quickly. With a quick nod, he took a long step away from me and held his hands up with a cheeky grin as the strict-looking chaperone approached. "Yes, officer?"

The chaperone sighed, passing fed-up glances between the two of us. I wondered where I had seen this man before. He was certainly someone's father who I had seen around drop-off hours. "I'm not the police," he grumbled. "You can put your hands down, Godfrey--"

"I invoke the fourth amendment!" Roman chimed in, winking at me. It was impossible not to smile.

The chaperone proceeded to groan, shaking his head; "Just-- no touching, okay?"

"Of... anything?"

"You can hold her hand, Godfrey, but anything else--"

"Oh, so it applies to things like... if I touch the wall?" Comically slow, Roman pressed his finger to the wall, hissing as though he was being burned by the law. "I'm a man of many crimes, as you see, officer!" He lowered his voice to a whisper; "I even touched the punch earlier! Actually, now that I think about it, I think I deserve to be kicked out... Can't believe I have allowed myself to commit such atrocities." With one last pout, Roman held his hands out to the chaperone, bowing his head in defeat. "Take me, oh, lead me away, kind sir! I will serve my time, and I will do my due diligence!--"

"Enough!" The chaperone barked. "As long as you didn't spike the goddamn punch, you're free to go!"

And with that, Roman's gig was up. He bit down hard on his lip to suppress his smirk, not to great success. "I wouldn't dare to, officer," he cooed, reaching for my hand in the smoothest manner known to man.

The chaperone rolled his eyes, probably rethinking all his life choices, as Roman led me away with the both of us trying not to topple over from the laughter we were suppressing.

"You're crazy," I said, squeezing his hand. I was worried my eyes had formed hearts.

Roman shrugged, glancing down at me with a knowing smile. "And you're crazy about me," he murmured. "But, speaking of crazy..." He raised our hands, making me do a little twirl as I giggled. When I faced him again, Roman wrapped his arms around me as he glanced over at the punch not too far away from us; "What do you say actually spike it?"

"... What?"

"It could be smart," he purred, swaying with me a little on the dance floor. "Brooke and her girls have been drinking it all night, and they just walked away... Maybe if they all get drunk off their asses when they come back, they won't be able to take their needle-revenge on me?"

Roman was right. We had kept a bit of an eye on them all night, just to make sure they were at a safe distance at all times. It was a fun game, if I were to be honest, but... Roman was right. It was an unusual occurrence that he was, so I couldn't help but smile as I felt myself get convinced.

"Fuck it,"

What ensued, were three nerve-wracking minutes at the table with the large punch-bowl. I stood in front of Roman, blocking the view of any possible chaperones as he skillfully got a silver flask out of the pocket of his jacket, and we spent a good amount of time positioning ourselves to make it all look casual, as though we weren't pouring straight vodka into the punch. Why Roman had any on him in the first place was a conversation for another time.

The second we saw Brooke and the cheerleaders approaching again, I felt my breath hitch-- had we made it or were we about to get caught?

However, Roman's timing was impeccable. With a smooth slither of his hand down to mine, he pulled me back to the dance floor, as though it was the most natural thing in the world to be escaping the scene of the crime at this pace.

And suddenly, it felt like I had entered that silly dream of mine. Cause now, we were dancing. Slow. Close. The remnants of our silly escapade were visible across our lips, corners pulling up into knowing smiles as we held each other close. Roman's cologne was alluring as always, and so were his big, green eyes; I could see everything now. The scar on his right cheek, the way his pupils practically pulsated at the sight of me, the way he was drinking me in, the beautiful upturn of his nose, all to the way his warm breath fell against my cheek.

Roman's long, slender fingers intertwined with mine as his other hand rested at the small of my back; it was perfect. Better than I could've ever imagined it. It was intoxicating. Deadly, in the best of ways.

If I were to say anything, now would be the moment. If I were to say the words that I had longed to say, now was the time. All I could hear was the sweet sound of Roman's breath, the dimmed shuffling of the tulle of my dress, and the mellow remnants of the slow song playing in the background. "Rome," I breathed. "There's something I need to tell you." My heart had never beat harder in my life, I was sure of it now.

I was sure of it.

Roman let out a short hum, lovingly nudging his nose against mine. "I need to tell you something too,"

The more I thought about the beating of my heart, the more I was sure it was going to beat its way up my throat. "Yeah?" I tried. Breathless. Breathless.

"Yeah," Roman closed his eyes, gently pulling me closer. "But this might not be the place to tell you."

"I beg to differ," Something told me all my dreams were coming true in one go. If he was gonna say what I thought he was gonna say-- "There might never be a better moment than right here, right now." Please. Please. I wanted to beg him to say it first, if he wanted to say those three words at all.

It felt like the air was a tissue. A tissue falling into me, which was pulled out with Roman's next intake of air. Every breath felt sharp, yet exhilarating, yet draining, yet filling, yet emptying.

"Not here," he whispered. "You'd have a heart attack."

It felt like I was about to have one anyway. "I doubt it," God, I was about to spill, wasn't I? "What if I go first?"

Roman's brows drew together as he pulled away just a centimeter or two, looking more confused than ever. "What?"

My mouth pulled into a line. Was I reading this wrong or was this one of those situations where I just had to grow a pair of balls on the spot and walk on the burning charcoal? "Like... if you're saying what I think you want to say?"

"And what do you think I want to say?"

"... Uhm," It hit me that my mouth had never been drier. Could I do this? Should I do this? "The... thing?"

"What thing?"

"That you, y'know... That you--"

"That I what?" Roman's words were insistent, rushed. It almost scared me into silence. "Baby?"

My lower lip trembled as I gathered the courage to let out a breathy laugh, shaking my head. This was my sign to retreat. With a defeated sigh, my eyes shied away from his as my cheeks burned. "Forget it,"

"But..." Roman looked beyond lost. "Okay, I feel like I'm messing things up here. Let's start again."

"Start again?--"

"Start again," he insisted, his green eyes burning into mine as I dared to meet them again. "You were gonna tell me something."

Fuck no. Now, I was sure that'd be a fate worse than death. "I-- I don't know, I'm a little lost now, could we just forget?--"

My nervous ramble was interrupted by a loud groan from Roman. At first, my eyes widened at his weird reaction to me stumbling over my words, all until I realized his phone was vibrating in his pocket. Thankfully, the song in the background wasn't so quiet and slow anymore, and nobody around us seemed to mind. "I'm so sorry," he breathed, letting go of my hand to fish out his phone. "This is fucking ridiculous, who in their right mind is calling at this time of night?!--"

Roman's anger came to a halt as he saw who was calling him. I was praying to all the Gods I could think of at the moment that it wasn't Letha.

"It's Peter," he said, eyes rounding out. "I haven't gotten a hold of him in a while, I-- will you kill me if I take this?"

I let out a sigh. Typical. I suppose some things simply remain a dream. "No problem," My ass.

"I'm sorry," Roman tried, placing two fingers beneath my chin to tilt my head up, placing an apologetic kiss to my lips. It was quick, hurried-- something told me I'd remember it. "I will be right back, and then you're gonna tell me that thing, okay? I'm dying to know. Dying."

"Sure,"

"Just-- meet me by the door leading to the hallway, okay? Not the exit, not the one leading outside, but the--"

"Hallway, yeah. I got it,"

The look on Roman's face told me he was genuinely sorry. That was a consolation, at least. "We're gonna talk, I promise. I really need to tell you what I wanted to say,"

I swear, if he ended up telling me he was getting a new car instead of telling me he was in love with me, I'd wack him with the first heavy purse I'd find. "Go, Rome,"

Roman disappeared from the crowd rather quickly, making his way outside with hurried steps, leaving me alone and frustrated on the dance floor. Muttering curse words under my breath, I waddled to the door leading to the hallway, leaning against the wall next to it with a disappointed sigh. The momentum of that whole conversation had left me a bit of a panting mess, and my heart had yet to slow down. I wondered how I was supposed to get out of telling him that I loved him. Stupid, stupid, stupid girl!

However, as I scoured my brain for something else to say, I felt the familiar smell of overly-sweet perfume fill my nostrils.

I stiffened in fear.

Oh no.

My mouth dried in record time as Daniel approached me, his stride calm and calculated. It was odd to see him out of his blue varsity jacket, yet he hadn't disappointed; his tux was blue too. The more I kept thinking about the color blue, the more I thought about the ocean, and the more I thought about the ocean, the more clearly I saw myself holding Daniel's head underwater until he drowned.

Daniel's smirk was nastier than ever. I couldn't believe I ever thought it was cute. "There you are," he purred, getting too close for my comfort. "You look like you're having the time of your life, as always."

I snorted. "Well, what do you expect of a brainless slut, as you so poetically called me? You've always had a way with words,"

"Damn," Daniel mumbled, pulling his hands into his pockets as he chuckled. "Did I really say that?"

"Yep," Asshole.

He nodded; "Ah... It seems you remember that night more than I do, then," Daniel's perfume had now infiltrated both my nose and my will to live. If only I could melt into a puddle on the floor and become immaterial-- that would've been mercy enough.

"I bet you haven't come here to apologize, am I correct?" I asked.

Daniel shrugged, amused. "I was actually coming here to ask you for an apology,"

"Me?! For what?" He never failed to say outrageous things, I could give him credit for that much.

However, Daniel seemed taken aback by my response. "Are you really going to act like nothing happened?"

"What?! Are you talking about you and I those thousands of years ago?--"

"No," Daniel's face fell. "I'm talking about what happened last weekend."

Something was awfully wrong. My intuition made the hair at the back of my neck stand up to the sky, and I realized I was pressing myself up against the wall. "Last weekend?" I mumbled. What did I do last weekend? I couldn't remember. All I could remember from last weekend was waking up at the Godfrey Institute because of the car crash--

Wait.

Daniel took a step forward; "I've been waiting for you to get away from that boyfriend of yours for a while," he said, his words low and threatening. "Cause you and I are gonna go have a little talk, aren't we?"

"About what?" My voice came out frail, scared, as my breath continued to catch in my throat. For a second, my attention darted to the person coming out through the door to the hallway, and it reminded me that I was in a room filled with people. Roman was coming back any time now, too. Nothing could happen to me. "I don't know what you're--"

And then it happened. Daniel stepped forward with speed I didn't know he had in him, and he jammed his foot between the door as he grabbed me with strength I couldn't fight. He clasped his hand over my mouth as I tried to fight him off, yet to no avail-- it didn't take many seconds before he managed to get me through the door, dragging me down the hallway and away from the party.

I let out a cry against Daniel's palm as my heart raced. Biting him didn't work, as my teeth barely grazed his skin-- I tried to dig my nails into him, yet I didn't manage to reach any exposed skin. The grip he had around me was crushing, and I knew my ribs would ache for days to come.

"We're gonna have a real nice talk," Daniel hissed into my ear. It was disgusting to have him so near, repulsing. His breath was unsteady as he spat his words, yet there was an exhilarated tone to his voice, like he was getting the biggest kick in the world out of this. "And I'm gonna let you go in one piece if you stop-- stop resisting!"

Daniel managed to drag me down the hall and around the corner before he threw me down. I hit the ground with a hard thud, wincing as I tried to get up with my heart threatening to beat out of my ears. However, Daniel bent down and grabbed a fistful of my hair, twisting me to look at him as I cried out in pain, eyes watery with tears as I met his angry blue eyes. I tried to drive my nails into his hand, yet he only tightened his fist in my hair-- the pain was blinding.

"Your spoiled brat of a boyfriend won't even pay for the damages," Daniel hissed in my face. His breath was warm, but in the most unpleasant way; it made me squirm as a tear spilled down my cheek. "Not a cent! The fucking Godfrey lawyers are blocking everything my family could've ever gotten as a compensation!"

I didn't manage to kick him away, no matter how hard I tried. "For a car?!" I yelled. "For a fucking car, Daniel?! Let me go!--"

"It's not about the car!" Daniel shouted, a few drops of spit landing on my face as I grimaced. "It's about the person driving it, you psycho!"

"I don't-- Fuck!" It was impossible not to curse at the agony. It didn't help that he was now dragging my head backwards, making me wonder whether he'd snap my neck. Would he? Would he actually? "I don't remember anything! I don't-- I don't fucking know! Were you in it?!"

This only seemed to anger him further, and Daniel proceeded to bend down next to me to properly get up in my face. I wondered whether he saw how clumpy my mascara was getting from the heavy tears weighing down on my lashes. I wondered whether he perhaps was hard right now from staring at the terrified look on my face. I wondered if he'd be sadistic enough to shove his dick down my throat if he was. These thoughts only made me panic more, yet I felt my body going limp from the pain; my hands were still fighting. I was still trying. There was no way I'd give up, but it also felt like there was no way for me to win.

"Not a single thing?" Daniel hissed, fury burning in his eyes. "You don't remember how you and your prick boyfriend left my father bleeding in his car? You don't remember how he swerved off the road and got the front of his car completely smashed in?!"

The more I tried to conjure the image, the more the feeling of all-taking panic and dread infiltrated my veins. I tried to claw his hands out of my hair, my nails digging into his skin, suffocating, suffocating, dying, tearing, tearing, panic, panic, why, where, how?--

My current state unlocked the one I had been in on the day of the crash.

And with the panic, I remembered everything.

Tick.

Tick tick.

I could almost hear Roman's voice.

Tick tick tick.

Right now, I was there.

I was living through it again.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

The sun was blinding, although the air was cold. I hurried down the steps of the school that day, running to Roman.

"Where were you?"

I was confused. "I was just!--"

"I've been waiting here for, like, ten minutes!" Roman hissed, getting up from the bonnet of his car. He was in the middle of what I could only call a fit of fury, and his hands were flying as he marched towards me with heavy, angry steps; "Get in the fucking car!" He grabbed a hold of my arm, forcefully pulling me toward him.

I let out a squeal of shock, yet I didn't resist. It was impossible not to jump when he put me in the passenger seat and slammed the door behind me. "What the hell, Roman? What's gotten into you today?!"

When he got in the driver's seat, he didn't waste any time turning the engine on. "I don't like you lingering in math class," he grumbled, fixing his hair in the rearview mirror. Typical. If Roman had been a woman, he'd have been the type to get extensions and acrylic nails; I was sure of it, with how obsessed he was with his looks. "I don't need you fraternizing any more with the enemy than you already have."

"The enemy?-- Are we talking about Letha?!"

"Yes!" he barked, driving out of the school parking lot with a little too much speed. Had he not been the son of Olivia Godfrey, I was convinced he'd have about a dozen parking tickets for this type of driving.

"Roman, are you serious right now?!"

"Dead serious,"

"You're being crazy!"

That was it for Roman, who immediately started yelling; "Don't fucking talk to me about crazy! You wanna see real crazy?! Let me crash the car and laugh as we bleed out on the side of the road, then you'll see that I'm acting more than reasonably!"

Instinctively, I reached for the handle of the car door. My breath was stuck in a loop in my chest, too thick to pass my trachea. "Please stop shouting," I echoed. "You're scaring me."

Roman's ears were red with anger. I used to think it was a cute trait of his, all until he threatened to kill us both in this vehicle. However, at the frail sound of my voice, he glanced at me for a second or two as he leaned one arm on the rolled-down car window; his big, green eyes rounded out with the realization, with the weight of his words. "I'm not--" He cleared his throat, returning his gaze to the road. "I'm not being serious. I wouldn't actually do that, you know me."

I could see the guilt settling in the lines of his brows coming together, yet my breath had yet to escape me; it was hard to think while being suffocated. "Stop the car,"

"Baby, I'm about to get on the highway!--"

"-- Stop the fucking car!"

Roman's anger returned as he struck the steering wheel, ignoring the way I jumped; "Fine!" With the speed he was driving at, it didn't take long before he managed to park by the road. He turned to me with a fed-up look in his eyes, one that brought my blood to a boil. It only got worse with the next words rolling off his tongue; "Christ, woman, what is it?"

For the first time in my life, I hoped I'd get superpowers and lazer-blast his stupid head off. Watch it blow and fly away in chunks, with his blood splattering all over the car. I bet it was the same dark-red color as his beloved Jaguar. Without saying a word, knowing I'd only spew profanities at him if I stayed, I made my way out of the car despite there not being a walkable road in sight.

"Hey-- Come on!" Roman yelled, watching as I started walking away on the side of the road. "Where the fuck do you think you're going?"

I shivered with the incoming breeze. "Far away from you!" Pissed out of my mind, I wrapped myself tightly in my jacket and ignored the sight of a car passing by me at full speed.

Roman got out of the car with haste, following me with urgency in his steps. "I'm not gonna drive us into a tree, I was just trying to make a point!" he yelled, dragging his hands through his hair to make sure his hairstyle was preserved in the wind. "Baby, please, come back here!--"

"It's not about that!" I yelled back, turning around to face him. Now, there were only a couple of meters between us as we gazed at each other, one with remorse, one with fury. "You say that you trust me, and then you explode when I come back a few minutes late from my class with Letha!"

"Well, of course I'm!--"

"No!" I barked, clenching my fists. "You've been acting so damn weird ever since the day we exchanged the ancient blood capsules, or whatever the fuck they are! You're being erratic! Are you still on cocaine, maybe? Have you relapsed?"

Roman's mouth opened and closed, offended. "I'm not on drugs!" he shouted, flailing his hands to make his point. "I'm not crazy!"

"Rome, you can tell me!" It felt as though my heart was beating out of my chest, and I pressed my hands to the thumping motions of it. I could feel the tears welling in my eyes; this whole week with Roman had been so weird, intense, and it had all come down to this. All this pain, all these emotions. "I'm your girlfriend, I care about you more than anything else in the world, you can tell me if you're back to!--"

"I'm not on drugs! I'm not crazy!" He was chanting it to himself now.

"I can get you the help you need, Rome, please!--"

"I'm not!" With the last boom of his voice, Roman seemed to grow taller on the spot. I was sure I was imagining the way his pupils dilated, the way his jaw twitched, and how he genuinely seemed to be growing an inch or two on the spot, as though he was about to pounce on me.

Was I maybe tired? That had to be it. After math class, my brain was always fried, anyway. Nonetheless, my breath hitched in my chest as I took a step back in blinding fear-- yet what I thought was a step back, was more of a step to the left. I didn't have much control over my body as my hands trembled, paralyzed at the sight before me. Roman didn't look like himself. It was him, I was sure it was the man I loved, yet something was so terribly off.

I hadn't realized I was standing in the road.

I was frozen to my spot.

I couldn't move.

And as the sound of a car honking repeatedly hit my ears, I saw nothing but the way Roman's pupils shrunk in an instant. Sheer panic filled his eyes. I barely registered how he got to me, but it took him less than a second when it should've taken him at least three.

Roman was too late, yet exactly on time-- it felt like a breeze wrapped itself around me with the swiftness of light, and before I knew it, I screamed as I was lifted off the ground and swept up in his arms. Too scared to register where we were, I only felt the prickling of grass in my hair as I soon heard a crash, a bang, and an alarm going off.

I held onto Roman's strong body for dear life as my high-pitched screams refused to subside, and tears welled up in my eyes which were squeezed shut in fear. He had wrapped himself around me in a protective hold and made sure I had landed on top of him in the grass by the road, a little too far from where we should've naturally landed, and Roman clutched onto the fabric of my jacket as he tried to shake me out of my shock.

It didn't work. My throat was getting sore, and I was trembling like a wet, abandoned kitten.

"Are you hurt?" Roman called out. "Hey, are you hurt?!"

With my next sob, the words came rushing out; "N-No!"

He let out a sigh of relief as he pressed me tighter to his chest, now stroking the back of my head and kissing my teary cheeks. "You're alright. It's okay, I'm here, you're alright," he cooed, gently rolling me down to the grass beside him.

I didn't want to let him go. I held onto his hair like a newborn, sobbing. "I'm sorry! I-I'm so, so-- so sorry!--"

"Shh, it's okay," Roman kissed my lips which were salty with tears. "It's not your fault, it's okay. Try to breathe, alright?"

I would've stayed like that, horrified and shell-shocked at our near meet with death, had I not heard pained groans in the distance. I dared to open my eyes, and immediately saw the cloud of smoke coming from the car with the peeping noise. There was a man groaning in pain, and his body was splayed over the steering wheel. And just as I didn't think it could get any worse, I saw the indent of a footprint in the car door--

My shaking subsided as I rose from the grass, sitting up in a zombie-like state. My eyes refused to leave the image before me.

Had Roman... kicked the car away?

Had he kicked a car coming our way at about a hundred kilometers an hour?

Before I could ponder it any longer, Roman grabbed my chin with the gentlest touch known to man and turned me to him. He didn't have a single scratch on him. Shouldn't he be gasping in pain at the blow of landing on his back with me on top of him? His eyes were round, worried, as he scanned me for any injuries. "How does your head feel? Are you dizzy? You didn't hit your head, did you?"

"No," I breathed. "Roman, the car--"

"Fuck that for a second, do I need to take you to a hospital?" The look in his eyes quickly went from worried to crazed, like he was angry that I was choosing to have sympathy for the person in the car instead of caring about myself first.

I blinked. Once. Twice. "Roman?"

"Yes?"

"The guy in there might be dead. Or dying,"

"I know," he echoed. "But he might also be bleeding."

"Exactly," With shaky steps, I tried to raise myself to the ground. The beeping of the car was driving me mad with guilt and worry. "He might be bleeding, so we need to--"

"Call an ambulance, I know,"

"No, we need to check if he's!--"

"Bleeding? Dying? Yeah, I can't," Roman grabbed my hand, forcing me to look into his eyes. They were round with a look I hadn't seen before, like he was trying to convey something I'd hopefully understand. "I shouldn't go near it when it's that much fresh blood." He squeezed my fingers before he brought them to his lips, kissing my knuckles. "And you're about to faint."

"... What?"

"You have about five seconds,"

"How do you?--"

"I'm not crazy," Roman said, an end statement. "I'll make sure you won't remember most of this, but trust me. I'll take care of it."

The worst thing was that he was right. I couldn't do anything to stop it when I started seeing white spots, and I let out a panicked yell. It felt like my head was caving into itself; that was a feeling that would stay with me. I covered my ears before I realized I couldn't feel my toes, and just as I went down, Roman went up to catch me in his arms.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

And as I faded out of the memory, it took longer than expected to snap out of it.

I was done.

Done.

I was so, so sure, and I had no idea why everything was black, why I couldn't move, why I felt my lungs freeze over with the inability to breathe.

It lasted for too long. Way too long. An eternity.

Again.

Up until it felt like a scream was being dragged out of me by force, again, like someone had grabbed a hold of my tongue and tugged me forward, again-- the bright lights of the school hallway shone through my lids before they sprung open in pure panic, and I arched off the ground with a gasp for air.

It felt like I was taking my first breaths again, or like I had been drowning, all over again. I clawed at my hands, my nails digging into the fabric of my dress, suffocating, suffocating, dying, tearing, tearing, panic, panic, why, where, how, again?—

There was a release. I no longer felt like my neck was about to snap, and there was no longer pressure on my scalp as I was released from Daniel's grip on my hair. My body fell limp against the floor as I heard a loud thud to my right along with a shrill cry of pain.

As I slowly came back to my senses, I realized that Daniel was being repeatedly punched against the lockers by none other than Roman Godfrey. There was no way for him to fight off the repeated attacks, no way at all, as Roman's fist landed blow after blow with no mercy.

"Rome," I wheezed, coughing and wincing as I tried to get up from the floor. I barely had any power in my body anymore-- it didn't work.

The sound of his nickname had Roman letting go of Daniel in an instant, who fell limp to the floor with a cry of pain. Roman looked completely out of it; his green eyes were wild with fury, worry, and an untameable thirst for revenge. I hadn't seen him like this before, so possessed.

He opened his mouth to say something, yet Daniel let out a wail; "He can't even walk anymore, Godfrey! You fuckers left my father in a coma, and when he woke up, he was fucking paralyzed from the neck down!"

My head was pounding. This couldn't be true. This was a nightmare.

"You ruined his life!" Daniel yelled, tears spilling down his cheeks as he tried to get up. "And you ruined mine! You took my father from me, and he will never be the same again!"

Roman took several deep breaths. It was clear that he wanted to beat Daniel to a pulp, yet he was holding back. "You think I wanted any of that?" he tried, balling his fists. "Accidents happen all the fucking time!--"

"He says you kicked the car!" Daniel shouted. His voice was shaking. Profusely. It dawned on me how scared he truly looked. "That you-- you kicked it off the road!"

Roman's fists remained clenched. "Did you maybe have too much of the punch?" he asked, attempting to incorporate a calm tone. "You can't possibly be hearing yourself now, Goldman. Explain how I'm supposed to have kicked away a car coming at me at full speed?"

Daniel's lower lip trembled as it caught a few of his tears. "Everyone knows something's wrong with you, Godfrey. It's just a matter of time until someone figures out your secret," A beat. A snarl. "You're a freak."

There was a long pause. Roman was so furious that he could only glare. I could see the way his jaw clenched and how his hands were now balled so tightly they were shaking.

Daniel caught onto it. Despite looking scared out of his mind, tears still staining his cheeks, he conjured a victorious smile which only confused me further. "You gonna hit me again? You gonna beat me to a pulp in front of your girl?" He nodded towards me, a mocking laugh following as his eyes shone with evil glee.

Roman's eye twitched. I held my breath.

"You think she'll stay with you once she knows what you're capable of? You think she'll still be yours?" Daniel wiped his nose, staring up at Roman through his brows with his vicious eyes. "You and I are one and the same. The way she looks at me, the hate, the disgust? You're going to know exactly how I feel."

"No," Roman hissed, breathless. "I'm nothing like you,"

"Oh yeah? Do you really believe that?"

"You're scum!--"

"And you're a fucking sadist, just like me!" Daniel didn't even try to wipe the grin off his beaten face. He simply sighed as he rested his head against the lockers, closing his eyes as though he was reliving his best day; "Bet you would've killed to see the look she had in her eyes when I nearly snapped her neck in half, just before you came... The tears, the fear. She has these pretty whimpers when she's in pain, y'know?" Daniel opened his eyes, staring up at Roman through his brows. "Are you going to let me get away with that?"

I couldn't stay quiet anymore; the panicked cry I let out was unlike anything I ever had before. "No, don't listen to him!--"

"I would've left her here for you to find, just like what you two did to my father!" Daniel chanted. "I would've ruined her, and it would've been all your fault, Godfrey!"

That was it. It was over. I knew it the second those words filled the hallway. His fault.

Roman snapped. He yelled out in fury, and his hands flew to Daniel's neck where he was on the floor, crushing his windpipes along with any hope for breaths or protests. The look in Roman's eyes was too wild, too uncontrolled, too unstable for my liking-- he looked like he was two seconds away from snapping his neck like a twig, just like what Daniel would've done to me.

"Stop it!" I screamed, terror freezing me to my spot. "Stop it, Roman, stop!--"

"Do-- it!" Daniel wheezed, grinning. "Show her-- what a monster you are!"

My heart was pounding in my ears. No, no, no!

Roman's voice boomed throughout the hallway; "I will break your fucking hands if you touch her again, do you hear me?!"

The amusement in Daniel's eyes quickly disintegrated into abject horror. It was the lack of air. This was the moment he realized one very crucial detail; that all his taunting, all his encouragement, could actually get him very, very badly hurt. "W-Wait--"

"Do you hear me?!"

"Y-Yes!--"

"I will tear you apart!" Roman yelled, tightening his grip. "Is that what you want?!"

Daniel's face was turning a peculiar shade of purple as panic settled in his body. His hands went to Roman's, clawing at them, but to no avail. It was essentially a match he couldn't ever hope to win. It would've been impossible. Roman was too strong, too quick, too sharp-- Daniel didn't stand a chance.

I didn't think it could yet worse, yet somehow it did. In a moment which shouldn't have been possible, not so easily, Roman dragged Daniel's sputtering body up along the locker, lifting him from the ground with no exertion or effort. It made me gasp as I propped myself up from the floor, tears rushing down my cheeks as I watched the scene before me, scared into silence.

When Daniel's legs were dangling off the floor, I knew he had a few seconds before he was out. It was clear in the way his eyes started bulging and how his hands fell limp by his sides.

Roman's last words were chilling; "Let me show you how much of a monster I can be,"

Daniel let out a short, defeated wheeze. Had he not been choking, it would've been a laugh. He had won, but now he had to pay the price. He squeezed his eyes shut with his last efforts, ready for the beating of his life, all until--

"No, that's enough!" I cried, exhausted by the terror. "Roman, enough!"

It was as though something changed in Roman at the sound of my voice, and the veins were no longer bulging from his hands as he realized the weight of what he had been about to do. With that, he let go of Daniel, who collapsed down along the lockers for the second time tonight; air rushed to his lungs with massive gulps, and his face was no longer purple from the blood rushing to his face.

Now that I remembered everything from the day of the crash, I saw the similarities. The way Roman seemed somewhat taller, how unnaturally wide his pupils dilated, and the way his jaw twitched.

For the first time, I was seeing him for what he truly might be.

For what he... was.

Upirism lives beneath their skin, scratches at their teeth, and corrupts their minds through dark urges in constant attempts to drive them to the edge of genesis. Do you suspect you are a upir, or do you recognize a darkness in your loved ones?

I do.

I do.

Gulping, I finally found the courage and strength to get off the floor. My hands were shaking, and so were my knees-- I was sure my mascara had stained my cheeks at this point, and I felt more breathless than ever as I faced the man I loved.

What made everything worse, was that Roman looked more beautiful than ever. Hair disheveled, broad shoulders raising with every shaky breath, lips parted. The tux only added to the sight-- he was perfect. Despite the sleeves of his jacket being rolled up, and a part of his shirt being untucked from his pants, he was perfect, and he always would be. His round, green eyes were barely green with how big his pupils were, pulsing with adrenaline; "Are you okay?" he asked, taking a step forward and away from Daniel. "Are you hurt? You were practically unconscious when I came--"

Roman's words came to a halt when he saw how quickly I took a step back.

My breath was stuck in my chest. I couldn't speak.

"You look scared. Don't be," he tried. "He's fine, see?" Roman turned around to face Daniel's body, where he lay limp and barely conscious, and proceeded to shortly kick him.

It made me gasp, clasping my hand over my mouth as Daniel let out a pained whimper. My stomach felt uneasy-- I really didn't want to throw up here.

When Roman saw my horror, he immediately took a step away from Daniel. It hadn't yet dawned on him why I was so scared. "I'm so sorry about this," he said. "I'm sorry I stepped away. I should've never left your side."

I tried to speak, yet nothing would come out. Only tears rushed from my system, peaking at my chin before dripping down to the floor.

Suddenly, there was a loud cheer from down the hall, a reminder of the prom going on just a door away. It made me jump, frozen in fear.

It was clear that Roman found it to be ironic, and he alternated between glancing down the hall and looking at me. "You still look good," he mumbled, a trying smile tugging at the corners of his perfect lips. Those perfect, plush lips that used to softly press against mine. Was he hoping we could go back inside and act like nothing had happened? "I have a comb you can use, if you want? The mascara is easy to wipe away, I think, and I bet there'll be no one in the restroom, so we can both go and fix ourselves and--"

When he took another step forward, I took another step back.

Roman stilled. His eyes softened with hurt. "Baby,"

I shook my head. That was the only thing I could do.

"Didn't you hear what he was saying? He wanted to-- wanted to do all these awful things to you, I had to do this,"

I couldn't breathe.

Roman insisted; "I was just protecting you," Despite his calm tone, I spotted the slight shake he had to his hands. "Don't think about all that bullshit he said, okay? He's not in his right mind, he's clearly insane!--"

"His dad, Roman!" My ability to speak returned to me with my growing frustration.

"-- Was a very sad, tragic thing, yes! I'm not denying it!" With the next step Roman took, I stayed in place. He let out a string of controlled, short breaths, trying to calm himself down. "But he didn't have to come after you. I would've given him the money he needed, but it's my mom who controls the assets. All our dear Daniel had to do, was to talk to me. No one had to get hurt."

I squeezed my eyes shut, yet my tears still fell past my lashes.

Roman let out a sigh which resembled a soft hum. "All that matters is that you're okay. That's all that matters. To me, you're all that matters,"

As his big hands framed my face, holding me when he finally got close enough, I still didn't open my eyes. I couldn't. I was scared out of my mind. Roman's touch was no longer a comfort-- it was chilling to know that they were choking someone less than a minute ago.

"Are you scared?" he whispered, worry coating his deep voice. "You don't have to be scared of me, I'm not-- I'm not some monster."

I couldn't believe him. His words echoed in my head. Let me show you how much of a monster I can be.

Let me show you.

"I'm not," Roman insisted. He didn't sound like he believed it much himself. "I'm all yours, only yours. That's all I am, and that's all that I ever will be. You need to know that."

Let me show you.

"Please look at me,"

Let me show you.

"Please," he begged. "I-- I've made some mistakes, but I'm still your Roman. Can't you stomach it anymore? Is me wanting to protect you repulsive to you?"

I shook my head; not at all. My hands found his chest, feeling it raise against my palms. I used to lay there. Fall asleep there, listening to his beating heart.

"What did you want me to do, then?" Roman whispered. "You're my everything. You're everything. I couldn't let him get away with doing all of that, I-- I couldn't. I'm sorry if it scared you, I'm sorry you had to see me like that, and I'm so sorry I ever left... I should've stayed with you. I'm a fool. I should've stayed and heard what you wanted to tell me."

I didn't need to look at him to know he was crying, now. His voice was breaking. Actively. It shattered me.

"Cause... you still want to tell me, right?"

Something told me he knew what I had wanted to tell him.

My hand crept further up Roman's broad chest as I quietly sobbed, my whole body shaking. My fingers were at his neck, tracing his soft skin.

Roman's grip on my face tightened in desperation, yet his voice came out in a frail, low murmur; "Please-- Please tell me,"

I love you. I love you. If only Roman could read minds. I couldn't conjure the words, not in this state.

My silence only broke him further. Hopeless, he pressed his tear-stained lips to mine in a sheer cry for mercy. "Please," he whispered between repeated kisses I couldn't reciprocate. "Please-- Please--"

My fingers had managed to slip between the two top buttons of his shirt, and they now grazed the vial of my blood around his neck. As Roman continued to kiss me, desperately pressing my body up against his, I let out a sob as I twisted the capsule, just like I had once practiced; his breath hitched as I wrapped my hand around the vial, clutching it as I pulled it away from him without a word.

Roman's hold on my face disappeared as his hands floated an inch away from my face, his big eyes watery with hurt and confusion.

I told myself it was for the best. The blood had poisoned his thoughts for too long.

My first step away was slow, trying.

Tick.

Tick tick.

My second was quickly followed by a sprint down the hallway, away from Roman, away from Daniel, away from everything.

Tick tick tick.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

Have you ever thought about death? Of course you have, everyone has-- but have you ever felt it?

It felt like I was dying for the hundredth time this week. The agony was pressing at the sides of my head, and it made me hope it would finally cave in on itself just to spare me the torture of being awake.

It was the fear that brought me to Letha's doorstep. The thing I didn't want to be true. Everything had balled up into a ginormous travesty of a boulder, and I could no longer try to push it over the side of the mountain-- I was no Sisyphus.

I couldn't begin to comprehend how shocked Letha must've been when she opened the door. She opened and closed her mouth, scanning the mascara which had stained my cheeks, and the state of the top of my hair. "What the fuck?" she cursed under her breath, grabbing my hand to pull me inside. "What are you doing here? What happened?"

I felt like a shell of the person I used to be. Like I had been cracked open like a lobster, with someone actively scooping out my insides. Letha's house smelled of expensive fragrance sticks you'd buy from Rituals-- I recognized the one she had in her house at the moment, the ritual of hammam. It was her favorite, I remembered that much. I felt at home. It was an odd feeling.

"Your dress," Unsure what to do, Letha bent down to fix the way my dress fell. "Seriously, what happened?--"

"A while ago, you said you wanted to tell me the truth about Roman," My voice was sharp, hollow, as I stared at the girl who was once my best friend. I had cried into her shoulder before, we had shared countless laughs-- what had I done? "What was it?"

Letha stilled with shock when she straightened up, meeting my troubled gaze. "Shouldn't you be at prom?"

"Letha, I need!--"

"Where even is, Roman, actually?"

"You need to tell me!" I cried. "You need-- I need to know, I need to hear it from you, because I need someone to tell me that I've gone crazy!"

With slow motions, Letha stretched out her hands to place them gently on my shoulders. "Let's take some deep breaths, okay? Whatever this is, I bet you and Roman will get through this. Did you have a fight? It can be painful to argue with your boyfriend, and it really can feel like you're going crazy. I get it, and--"

"-- I have this book," I interrupted, feeling my tears press up against my lashes once more. "It's really long and dreadful, but I've read the whole thing over and over about five times now."

The worry streaking across Letha's face turned into a look of confusion. "Okay...? As long as it's not Fifty Shades again, I'm listening,"

It was odd to speak to someone that knew me so well. She knew I had read that stupid book several times, despite how ridiculous it could be at times. It almost threw me off. "The more I read the book, the more I saw the... similarities with Roman,"

Letha grimaced; "Fifty Shades?"

"No! The other one!"

"Oh, alright. Phew,"

I groaned, rubbing my temples. I was exhausted. "You said I deserved to know the truth about him, so I'm begging you, Letha, to put everything aside," My breath struggled to steady. "What was it?"

Her palms lifted from my shoulders. "I-- I don't know how to say it, or whether I should tell you at all. I only ever mentioned it because I thought you were in danger, but--" Letha stilled. It was clear on her face that she knew she had said too much.

"Danger?" I echoed. "Letha?"

With a quick hitch of her breath, Letha made her way past me with hasty steps and disappeared into the living room.

"Please!" I followed her, watching as she paced back and forth in the big room, anxiously biting her nails. "Letha, I need to hear it from you, I need to know that I'm wrong, I need to hear that it's something else than what I think it is!"

"I-- I don't, I can't!--"

"Tell me!" I needed to hear it out loud. I burned to hear it from someone else than the voice in my head.

"N-No, I!--"

"Letha!"

"It's too-- I can't!--"

"Say it!"

Letha stilled with the boom of my voice. She stared back at me from across the room, no longer pacing as she finally dared to face the crazed look in my eyes. There was a long pause, a silence that laid itself over us like a cold blanket-- "What book was it?" she breathed.

"The--" I hated this title. "The avoidable vampirism, the--" I couldn't say the word. I couldn't.

Letha nodded. It was barely noticeable, and it resembled an involuntary tic. "Yes,"

Yes?

"Yes, he is,"

"Say it," I whispered. "Please."

Letha closed her eyes, resigning;

"Roman's a upir,"

The house was dead silent. You could've heard a pin drop. There were faint remnants of the wind brushing past the large tree outside the property, with the rustling of the leaves filling the sonic void. Letha wasn't moving. Neither was I. How does one process such news? It was a peculiar feeling-- I felt like I had already known for a long time. There was no shockwave, as I had expected there to be.

"Ah," was all I said. It left Letha to raise a brow, visibly off-put by my reaction.

I nodded to myself a couple times, glancing around the living room I used to know better than the back of my hand. A small huff escaped me, similarly to a laugh; I wondered whether my brain was melting. It surely felt like it.

For a second, I thought that was it. That there would be no blow to the reveal. That I was handling it surprisingly well, and that it'd be the end of it. However, the more breaths I took, the less I felt like I was breathing. The less I felt I was breathing, the more I could feel the painful thumping of my heart against my ribs, every beat serving as a reminder that I was still alive, still in this moment, still processing.

My breath got stuck in my throat with the next heave-- my hands flew to my necklace, trying to find the clasp. It was too tight, too tight. With shaking fingers, I tried to get it off, needed it off, right now. It didn't work, no matter how hard I tried, and my eyes welled with tears as I ripped my necklace off with a gasp, hoping I'd finally be able to breathe. The beads rolled along the hardwood floors as I clutched at my chest, hitting my chest in hopes that air would fill it.

Letha's big, green eyes were filled with worry as she rushed to me, unsure how to help. "Hey, hey, breathe, okay?--"

The corset of my dress was suddenly an agonizing pressure around my waist, and my fingers went to the ribbons at the back to slacken it. It didn't work, no matter what I tried, and the sob I let out was followed by a broken plea; "Help-- H-Help!--"

Letha hurried to get behind me as I slowly sank to the floor, choking on my tears as she untied the ribbons at full speed. My hands were tearing at my dress, choking with my last breaths as I descended into the heap of tulle around me-- I tried to scream, yet no sound would come.

In a last attempt, Letha grabbed the ribbons with full force and pulled them apart, ripping the fabric in half as my corset finally came apart.

What followed was a mix of a sob and a heave, a choked sound filling the room as I leaned forward into the tulle, taking sharp breaths of release. I could finally breathe. I was breathing again. I wept into my hands as Letha's soft hands stroked my exposed back, sitting down on the floor next to me as she brought my body as close to hers as she could.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, pressing a kiss to the top of my head. "I'm so, so sorry."

I shook in her arms, drowning in tears. It was true. Roman was a upir. I had been right all along, yet I had also been stupid enough to suppress it. The sadness, the heartbreak, that hit me felt like a death-sentence, and I held onto Letha as my whole body trembled with the realization; "I love him," I cried. "I love-- I love him!"

"I know," Letha stroked my hair, sighing. "I tried to get to you before you got that far, but there always comes a point when you can no longer do anything. I've learned that the hard way, now."

This was worse than death. "What do I do?" I breathed. "I don't-- I don't know what to do!"

"... You know what you have to do,"

It only made me clutch onto her harder, and I squeezed my eyes shut in hopes of stopping the stream of tears. I wondered how I had any more of them in my system. "I don't-- think I can!"

"I only want what's best for you," Letha cooed, patting away my fallen tears. "And I know that Roman can be charming, and he can be very nice when he wants to be, but... now that you know what he is, how are you going to believe him ever again? He's lied to you all this time, and he would've never told you himself. You're aware that he's putting you in danger every time he's near you?"

I shook my head; "N-No, Roman would never!--"

"If you read a whole book about upirs, you probably know what he's capable of?"

"He'd never-- never hurt me!--"

"Maybe he wouldn't hurt you, but you know he can control people, right?" Letha sighed once more, tilting my head upwards so that I would meet her eyes. "He did that to me our whole childhood. His favorite thing to do in the winter was to make me stick my tongue on metal poles and watch me cry when I couldn't detach it."

What? "But!--"

"How can you ever be sure that your actions are yours?" Letha's eyes were so intense, so desperate to get her point across. "How can you ever trust him again?"

How many times hadn't I thought he was mesmerizing me? I could count them on my fingers, but the thought was still unsettling. "I... don't know,"

Letha shifted to sit on her knees, watching my mascara paint my cheeks with long, black streaks. "I'm glad you came to me," she murmured, softening her look. "I'm glad you see that I'm the only one that can help you. We should put everything behind us and stick together again, and we have to. I'm all you have now. Roman... he's dangerous. You're safe with me."

I was so, so tired. I didn't have the energy to fight the free help coming my way, yet... something felt off. "He's not dangerous," I tried, in denial. "He's--"

"He's what?" Letha insisted, hardening her gaze. This was giving me whiplash. "Seriously! He could snap any day, can't you see?! And who would be closest to him the day he's overcome with thirst?"

"No!--"

"It'd be you!" Letha grabbed my face, and it only made my tears flow faster, hanging from my quivering chin. "It'd be you, and I can't lose you again, not in that way!"

The more my vision blurred, the weaker I felt. "I love him,"

"I know,"

"I-- I love him,"

"But you need to love yourself more," she whispered. Letha let go of my face, wrapping her arms around me in a warm embrace. She smelled just like she did all those months ago. My best friend, Letha. I missed her more than anything.

How could I ever love anything or anyone more than I loved Roman? I didn't have space for that in my body. I didn't have the capacity.

"Do it for your life," Letha pleaded, her voice smooth as honey. It felt like she was talking me to sleep. "Please."

A life without Roman? I couldn't imagine it. Not when we had promised each other forever.

But... forever for him probably meant forever.

Roman is a upir.

Roman is a upir.

I let out another cry into Letha's shoulder; this was a nightmare I wouldn't ever wake up from.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

When you get devastating news, you never think of what happens afterward. It's similar to when someone dies-- you get the news, in comes the shock, and then you get handed the papers on what to do with the body. No one ever thinks about having to design the flyer for the funeral, right?

There is a certain weight in your body as you go through the motions you know you have to go through. Your hands feel heavy as you hold your next meal before your mouth, realizing that life moves on, whether you want it to or not. You still need to drink water, eat, wake up, and function.

And just as I opened the door to my empty home, I felt all of that at once. I wanted to freak out and sob in despair to the end of my days, yet I had to get back home. I had to get out of the clothes Letha had given me after I ruined my dress, I had to eat something to fill my rumbling stomach, and I had to sleep. How was I supposed to do any of that when it felt like my world was crashing down on me?

It felt like someone had pressed a button at the top of my head, putting me on auto-pilot. I didn't even notice that I was still wearing my jacket as I made my way to the kitchen with heavy steps, mindlessly opening the fridge and taking a... cucumber?

Why was I holding a cucumber?

Fuck it.

I couldn't think. I didn't even close the fridge. My mind was empty as I put it down on the kitchen island, not even bothering to find a cutting board. I didn't want to think. The more I thought, the more I thought about Roman. Roman and his perfect lips, Roman and his beautiful laugh, Roman and his green, green, green eyes. Roman, the man I loved. Roman, the upir.

Involuntary tears rushed down my cheeks as my face remained stoic. I was exhausted. I had no idea how I was still moving. My hands were mindlessly tapping the kitchen surfaces around me, hoping I'd somehow find a knife that way. Not that I'd be particularly successful, but maybe I didn't want to be? I wasn't even planning on washing the cucumber. Maybe I hoped the germs would kill me. Could you die from an unwashed cucumber? I had no idea. There was probably a higher possibility that Roman would kill me first.

... I hated that thought.

I wish I didn't have to have it.

However, as my hands found the selection of knives, I heard a sound coming from behind me. It came from the other side of the kitchen island, the one I had my back turned to. I didn't think much of it first; houses creak all the time, surely. But then came the scrape-- a deliberate, jarring screech of a chair being pulled out from the kitchen island.

My parents were out of town.

Someone was in my house.

Someone was pulling out a chair.

I froze, every muscle in my body locking up, my breath catching in my throat. The sound of slow, deliberate footsteps sent a chill crawling down my spine. They weren’t hurried or hesitant-- they were purposeful, unhurried, as though whoever was there wanted me to hear.

I gripped the counter with trembling fingers, my pulse hammering in my ears. I didn’t dare look back, but every inch of me screamed to run. My fingers brushed the cold handle of the biggest knife I could find, finally. The familiar fight-or-flight surged through me, but I couldn’t choose. All I could do was grip the knife and hold it as though it were a lifeline.

When the footsteps stopped, I thought for a moment that maybe, just maybe, I had imagined it.

But then-- the breath.

A low, soft exhale just inches behind me.

Now or never. I spun around with a panicked yell, the knife held high, ready to plunge it into whoever had invaded my home-- My scream got stuck in my throat when the blade pointed at the chest of a tall figure standing in the dark, his face barely illuminated by the faint glow of the refrigerator light.

Roman.

Roman didn't even bother to stop me, didn't jump away, nothing. The tip of my knife was barely dipping into his solar plexus, yet I was sure it would've been enough to draw blood on any other person; it didn't even pierce his skin.

I couldn't believe what was happening. He somehow didn't look like himself-- it was Roman like I’d never seen him before. His expression was blank, too blank, the kind of blank that made my stomach churn. He didn’t flinch at the blade hovering just below his sternum. His green eyes locked onto mine with a kind of detachment, as though I wasn’t holding a weapon to his chest at all.

“You done?” he said, his voice carrying an eerie stillness.

I couldn’t speak, couldn’t move. My knuckles whitened around the handle.

Roman’s eyes flickered down to the blade, then back to me. “Put it down,” he said, his tone measured but firm.

“No,” I whispered, my voice trembling.

Roman took a quiet step back, glancing down at the large knife I was holding at him with an unreadable emotion shimmering in his big, green eyes. "Right..." he huffed, sucking in a sharp breath. His gaze darted up to meet mine in the dark of the kitchen. "Is that how you want to do this?"

I didn't answer. I couldn't. There was no other way, not when I knew the truth.

Roman’s lips parted, and the breath that escaped wasn’t human—it was low, steady, and calculating, like a predator sizing up its prey. His gaze locked onto the knife, then slowly dragged up to meet mine. His pupils were darker now, swallowing the green of his eyes, and the silence between us stretched too long.

“If you’re gonna do it, don't hesitate,” Roman's voice was soft, yet laced with something cold and merciless. He took a single step forward, the tip of the knife now pressing harder against his chest. “You won’t get another chance.”

I gasped, stumbling back, but Roman didn’t follow. He stayed in the shadows, his figure looming over me like some unholy force. “Fine. This is how it's gonna go,” he continued, his tone so calm it made my blood run cold. “You’re going to put that down and listen. No running, no screaming. I deserve that much."

I tightened my grip on the knife, my chest heaving. “Why should I listen to you?"

A huff-- Roman was pissed. "Cause I'm really not in the mood for chasing you. It'd be over in less than three seconds, and that's never fun," Roman's voice dropped to a near whisper; "You wanna fight me, or do you want to be smart about this?"

I didn't lower my knife. I couldn't. "Alright," I breathed. "Talk, then."

Roman tilted his head, studying me, his lips curving into the faintest ghost of a smirk-- it didn't reach his eyes. "There you go," he said.

"Good girl."

Chapter 13: forever

Summary:

Nothing will ever be the same again after you've found out what Roman truly is-- you can be sure of that now.

Chapter Text

Loving Roman had consequences right from the start.

However, I never imagined it would lead to this.

My hands trembled as I clutched the knife, though I couldn't tell if it was from fear or the sheer weight of the situation. Roman hadn't moved an inch since I'd pointed it at him, but the way he loomed in front of me made every second stretch unbearably long. The silence in the room was deafening, broken only by the faint hum of the fridge-- my breath caught in my throat as he tilted his head, his green eyes flickering with something unreadable, something quiet.

Then, without warning, a slow exhale left his lips as though he was indifferent-- Roman's shoulders slackened, the tension bleeding from his frame as if this entire moment had bored him. And then, just like that, he put his tux jacket on the kitchen island before he turned away.

I flinched at the movement, but all Roman did was step toward the fridge, peeling it open with a lazy sort of ease. He bent down, rummaging through the shelves, shifting the milk aside like I wasn't still standing there, terrified.

I turned with him, still pointing the blade in his direction as my pulse threatened to rupture my ears-- this was the biggest mind-fuck of the century. This night was. My brows drew together as I dared to speak, confusion drowning my anxious words; "What are you doing?"

Roman shrugged. "I have a feeling this is gonna take a while, and I'm really fucking hungry. Do you know how many calories you burn from beating up assholes?" Another sigh followed-- he continued to speak into the fridge as he shuffled through the vegetables; "You're not wearing your dress."

It sounded like a casual remark, yet I knew it was loaded with the intent of getting me to explain myself. The longer I stayed quiet, the more I could hear my heart pound. "I changed,"

"Where?"

"... Here?"

Roman shook his head, remnants of a knowing smirk painting his lips-- it didn't reach his eyes. "I don't think we should be starting this conversation off with more lies,"

His words were chilling. I struggled to find mine. I cleared my throat over and over as my hands got clammy around the knife I had yet to lower; "I don't know what you're talking about,"

"Come on," Roman huffed, rolling his eyes as he straightened up, reaching for the handle of the fridge. When he turned his head to meet my gaze, I felt my breathing knot itself in my chest-- I hated this feeling. I hated being scared of my boyfriend. I hated that I couldn't bring myself to put away the kitchen knife I was still pointing at him. Roman continued; "I've been waiting for you for about... what, fifteen minutes? You didn't change here, and those clothes aren't yours."

Fighting the urge to stay tongue-tied, I snapped; "And you shouldn't have broken into my house in the first place! That's crossing all fucking boundaries!--"

BOOM.

The fridge door slammed shut with a force that rattled the shelves.

I jolted. A sharp, pathetic squeak clawed up my throat before I could stop it. My pulse jumped, breath hitching-- fuck.

Roman had never looked more intimidating; "I see we're past talking about boundaries!" he hissed, glancing down at the knife in my trembling hands. His attempts at containing his anger were cracking.

"Fine," I bit back. "Let's talk about the important piece of information you so conveniently failed to tell me, then!"

Roman blinked. I knew him too well; I could see his mind racing behind those big, beautiful eyes. I shouldn't be looking into them. "The car crash?" he asked, attempting to soften his voice. Something told me he got hopeful that he had hit bingo about the subject, and that he could somehow salvage this; "I'll tell you everything you want, baby. No problem, okay? Where do you want me to start?--"

"Don't fuck with me, Roman!" One of my hands left the knife as my tremble subsided, and I steadied my stance. "Enough!"

Roman's fists clenched, and his gaze pierced mine with rays of ice. It took him some time to let it sink in-- we were about to have this conversation, whether he wanted to or not. We were going to talk about what he was. Despite the horror of the situation, my body filled with a satisfaction unlike anything I had ever felt before; I had pieced it together. I had cornered him. I had caught the liar, and I had done it all by myself.

However, the liar in question didn't want to relent so easily; "This is about Daniel, isn't it? The little shit who confessed he'd get off to snapping your neck in half?"

"It's... What?" My frustration possessed me as I gestured with the knife, exasperated. "No, Roman! It's not that, and you know it!"

Roman let out a quick, icy breath as his fists clenched and unclenched-- deny, deny, deny. "He had it coming," he breathed. "I don't get why you're holding a knife at me for giving that guy what he deserved!"

"That's not why I'm!--"

"You think I went too far?" Roman scoffed, shaking his head in disbelief. Deny, deny, deny. "You think I should've let him walk away after hurting you, is that it?"

This was beyond frustrating now. It was infuriating, actually. Roman's dismissal of the real topic of concern drove me into a state I hadn't been in before; it almost made my vision go red. Then, it took me a second to realize my vision was blurring because of more causes than one-- with tears pooling in my eyes, I watched as Roman continued his angry rant;

"I don't get you! Why the fuck are you pulling a knife on your boyfriend for protecting you?! I was the one who saved you, I was the one who made sure you got the revenge you deserved, and what do I get in return? That terrified look on your fucking face?!"

Roman was yelling now.

Yelling.

I kept telling myself he didn't mean it, that he was simply anxious to face the truth that I knew his biggest secret, but... now that I knew what he was, it only made me grip the knife harder. What if he suddenly pounced at me? What if he got so overcome by anger that he lunged my way out of pure instinct?

I flinched when Roman raised his hands, yet I let out a shaky breath of relief when they went to his hair, ripping at the tips of his brown locks in frustration; "I have done everything to protect you! I-- I messed him up, okay, but!--"

Enough. "Protect me?! You think this is protection?!"

The panic Roman had painted across his face for sympathy got wiped away the second I raised my voice too. His act wasn't working. His distractions weren't working. Nothing was. "It is," he hissed.

"No!" The tears that had welled in my eyes threatened to spill. "You should've left me alone the second you started feeling anything for me! That would've been protection, that would've mercy!"

Roman closed his eyes and sucked in a sharp line of air-- "Don't say that," he breathed. "You're crossing the line."

"Crossing... the line?!"

"You are," he continued, blindly gesturing at the knife. "Point your knives, call me whatever, say all the shit you want, but not that. What we have is damn near holy to me, so keep that out of your mouth."

I had half the mind to throw the knife at him. Enough was enough, I couldn't stand it anymore; "You're insane!" I yelled. "You're batshit crazy, and you're out of your fucking mind if you think that you were protecting me all this time! You've only put me in danger!"

Roman's eyes widened with offence. "I have not!--"

"You urged me to slice my hand in front of you, and you sucked my fucking blood that time you decided you wanted to blood-bind us or whatever the fuck those vials were for! How dare you put me in that situation when you know what you are?!"

Silence.

In the void of sound we had created, I could hear a light tapping against the windows-- it was raining. Outside, the grass was given the opportunity to grow. At this very moment, flowers all around were watered with new energy for life; yet here I was, being drained of all of mine.

Roman's face twitched with multiple emotions, unable to decide which one to settle for as he lowered his gaze. Had he ever prepared for this moment? I wondered if he had. I wondered whether he had ever laid in bed at night, riddled with guilt and the weight of the world, and whether he had ever thought about coming clean. Had he thought he could get away with it, that I would never find out?

Finally, Roman opened his mouth; "I..."

It didn't take long before it shut again.

A shaky breath escaped me when I realized my knuckles were going white around the knife. I was about to say something, maybe even dig deep into my soul to search for words of comfort; yet when Roman's eyes fully focused on mine again, I felt my whole world freeze over.

Roman's pupils widened, fixating on me as though I was prey, a big deer in the wilderness. He knew the act was up, that the game was over, and instead of facing it, he fixated on the one thing he felt he could still control. His words came out with a low growl; "You have something of mine,"

... What?

He took a threatening step forward.

My breath hitched; I readied my brain for possible combat.

"The vial," Roman hissed. "Where is it?"

Another step.

"It's mine. If this is how you want to do this, I want it back,"

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. "Back-- Back off!--"

With Roman's next step, my body tensed up with the realization that he was speeding up--

It was now or never.

With a shriek, I tossed the knife in his direction out of pure fear, and ran out of the kitchen as my screams emptied my lungs. The pounding of my heart filled my ears as I heard the clashing of pots and pans, possibly the sound of Roman jumping over the kitchen island to get to me, and it only made me panic more.

He called out my name, a yell of rage, as I made it past the living room and into the hallway.

I was running for my life.

I was running for my life.

A ragged scream tore from my throat as I snatched the nearest object, a flimsy umbrella, and flung it behind me without looking. It didn't matter. He'd dodge it. He'd always dodge it.

Tears burned down my face, blurring the steps ahead as I bolted up the stairs. My chest heaved, my legs burned, but I pushed-- pushed like my life depended on it, because it did.

I was going to die, wasn't I?

This was it.

But for a second, a stupid, desperate second, my brain tricked me; maybe I could make it? Maybe I could outrun him? Maybe, maybe I could get out of this alive?

I chanced a glance over my shoulder--

Roman wasn't there.

My heart stopped. Relief slammed into me so hard that my knees nearly buckled.

Too soon.

I saw it too late-- the flicker of movement at the edge of my vision.

Roman's hand, appearing at the top of the banister.

He hadn't run up the stairs. He'd jumped. From the first floor to the second in a single, monstrous leap.

A scream ripped from my throat as he vaulted over the railing, his body a blur, his weight crashing into me before I could even think to run.

My back hit the ground hard, but before I could even feel the pain, something else registered.

His hand. Between my head and the floor, cushioning the blow.

My breath stuttered, my body locked in pure terror as I fought, thrashed, pounded my fists against his chest-- but it was useless. He didn't budge.

My heartbeat was a deafening drumbeat of panic; I wasn't getting away. I wasn't getting away.

I wasn't getting away.

Then, Roman grabbed my hands and slammed them to the floor, pinning me down with a groan. His voice was sharp, teetering on the edge of control; "Stop it!" he yelled. "Stop fighting! I'm not going to hurt you!"

I squeezed my eyes shut, the tears still coming. I didn't believe him. I couldn't believe him.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?!" he continued. "Since when do you throw knives at me?!"

I kept trying to kick him off. It didn't work. Nothing did.

Roman's chest heaved above mine, his grip tightening before he seemed to catch himself-- his fingers loosened just slightly. His voice dropped, a thread of disbelief woven through the frustration. "You're really afraid of me, aren't you?"

I let out a quiet sob, unable to speak.

Roman's breath shook, his head tilting as if seeing me for the first time. He exhaled through his nose, but his next words wavered; "After all this time... you really think I could hurt you?"

Something in his voice made me pause. He wasn't just angry anymore, he was... wounded.

"After everything?" he breathed. His fingers curled around my wrists, but this time, they trembled.

I didn't answer. I couldn't.

That silence, that awful, confirming silence, broke him. Roman's expression crumpled as he clutched my wrists like a lifeline, his breath uneven. The anger drained from him in an instant, replaced by something desperate, raw, broken.

"You're breaking my heart," he breathed.

The words shattered between us.

I stilled, my own heartbeat stammering.

In the muted space of my lack of words, Roman let out a quiet, shuddering laugh, his green eyes glossing over. "Letha told you, didn't she?" His voice cracked, barely above a whisper; "You're wearing her clothes, and you kinda smell like her expensive incense for crazy people. Don't tell me she performed some ritual on you?"

I swallowed hard. Telling him the truth felt dangerous; I needed to protect my last ally, didn't I? "No," I whispered. "No rituals. There was no Letha. I figured it out by myself... I-- I read a book." At least there was some truth to what I was saying.

Roman uttered something between a scoff and a choked breath, shaking his head. His lips curled, but there was no humor in it. "All by yourself?" he muttered. "That's my girl."

Acid filled my next words, overcome by emotion; "You left me no choice,"

"I didn't?"

"You didn't,"

"That's nonsense," Roman mumbled. "We could've avoided all of this. We could've had a few good years with you in the dark."

His face was too hard to read. His expressive eyes were so cold and hard with his conviction-- he really believed that, didn't he? "Years?" I whispered. "With me... in the dark?"

"Yeah," Breathless. He was breathless. "A decade, maybe."

It didn't take me long to piece it together. It would take a decade until he looked considerably younger than me. Would he have let me in on his secret then?

"That wouldn't have been enough," I said, choking back my tears. "I wanted a whole life with you, Roman."

His next inhale was shaky, yet quick-- finally, he could be sure that he had lost. "So you... you really know, now?"

I knew.

I knew.

And I could barely speak it; "That you're a upir? Yeah,"

Roman had yet to let me go. "Fuck..." he breathed, nodding to himself. "There goes that."

There it goes.

All the stolen glances, all the kisses, all the joy, all the love.

It was draining the life out of the both of us. "I'm not going to ask you to forgive me," Roman tried. "But can I at least... please have the vial?" His voice broke at the end of his sentence, and he bit down on his bottom lip to keep it from quivering.

My words came out with a tremble; "I-- I threw it away. It was affecting you horribly, and I don't want that for you... I don't want you to be in pain, Roman, despite everything you are,"

He sucked in a sharp breath, his whole body locking up as if my words had just stabbed into him. "I'll have nothing of you, then?" His voice was barely there, so fragile it made my chest ache. "When you leave me, I'll... I'll have nothing?"

I blinked. When I leave?

Was he... planning to let me go?

"You're breaking my heart," Roman echoed, his shoulders trembling as he let go of my wrists to cradle my face in his hands.

The touch nearly made me flinch. Had I not been so intent on my survival, I would've pushed him away with a shudder. I didn't want him touching me, not now that I knew who and what he was, yet I endured it for the sake of my life.

Roman's grip faltered as he watched me fail to hide my fear, and his fingers trailed to my cheeks as he took in the look on my face.

"I can never trust you again," I whispered. "Never hold you, never kiss you... Not now that I know what you are."

Roman's fingers slowly brushed over my cheek, shaking. "But... it was supposed to be you and me," he breathed. "Forever."

Forever.

The word sent a sharp ache through my ribs.

Roman's eyes shut, his face twisting with something too deep to name. "I know I should've stayed away..." A shuddering inhale. "I should've just kept on being miserable."

I choked down a sob; "Rome," I whispered. What else was there to say?

The nickname hit him like a bullet. Roman's voice was rough when he dared to speak; "I wasn't supposed to feel like this for anyone... That was my one rule," He pulled back just enough to look at me. His eyes were bloodshot, and his jaw was tight like he was forcing the words out. "I don't know when it happened, and I don't know how it happened, but I woke up one day and realized that I-- fuck!"

Overcome by his emotions, Roman let out a sharp, bitter laugh; "I didn't want this, okay? I didn't-- God, I didn't fucking want to feel anything for you at all! I didn't want us to ever happen in the first place!"

The words should've hurt. They were meant to hurt, why else would Roman say them? But the way he said them, so wrecked, so lost, made my heart ache instead.

Roman exhaled hard, tilting his head back like he was trying to keep it together. "You have no idea how much I fought feeling anything for you... You have no idea how many times I told myself that it was nothing, that it would go away, and that you were just!--" He stopped, his breath hitching. "That you were just some meaningless girl, something temporary, a distraction at most, and not!--"

He didn't say it.

He couldn't.

Not yet.

"And I--" Roman stopped, like the next part physically hurt to say. "I should've told you about this, I should've told you who I am. You deserved that much, and I tried, I swear! I-- I wanted to. But every time I got close, every time I thought, this is it, tell the fucking girl, be a man, I'd look at you and-- and I got scared."

Finally, I could be sure the world was going under. The notorious Roman Godfrey was scared, and even worse, admitting to it.

"Because if I told you, you'd leave!" he said, voice raw with pain. "And I couldn't-- I can't!--" He was shattering right before my eyes, shattering into a million pieces. "Fuck, you have to understand! I didn't keep it from you to hurt you, I kept it from you because I'd lose everything!"

Roman swallowed hard, and in the smallest, quietest voice, he whispered; "I never, ever wanted to lose you. Nothing else matters like this, I-- I love you too much to function,"

Silence.

Thick. Suffocating.

Roman Godfrey... loved me?

He loved me.

Roman loved me.

And here he was, looking down at me with those big, pleading, green eyes like it would fix everything. Like it would fix the fact that he could kill me within a second. Like it would fix his blood-thirst.

"Please," he breathed, heartbroken with my lack of response. "You're not saying anything. Please say something."

All the times I had sensed something was wrong and convinced myself I was crazy rushed through my mind, clouding my shock at Roman's confession. It was torturous how he had let me remain in the dark for so long. Was that love, or was that selfishness?

I knew the answer.

"That's not love, Roman," I whispered. "That's fear."

His face fell. "No," he tried. "Don't-- Don't say that, it's not--"

"You say you didn't tell me because you didn't want to lose me, but what do you think this is? What do you think is happening right now?" My voice wavered, heat rushing to my face. "You talk about love like it's this big, tragic thing you had no control over, but you chose to lie to me above all else! You chose to put me in danger every time you were ever near me!"

I pushed against his chest, my body trembling with the force of my anger; Roman could've easily stayed put, could've easily kept me pinned to the ground, yet he relented, his eyes wide with hurt as he allowed me to push him away and sit up.

"You let me walk around and doubt myself for months, Roman! You let me drive myself crazy, trying to understand what the hell was wrong with me and why I was even doubting you, when this whole time-- this whole time, you were lying to my face!"

Roman ran a hand through his hair, looking wrecked. "What did you want me to do?!--"

"Anything but this, you fucking asshole!" I shoved myself off the floor, feeling my heart pound. "And you don't get to look at me like that, like I've wrecked your life! You don't get to act like this is just something sad that happened to us when this could've been prevented all along if you'd just stayed the fuck away!"

"That's not fair!" Roman yelled through the tears welling in his eyes. "You were basically throwing yourself at me!--"

"And you shouldn't have let me!"

"Come on!" Desperate, Roman reached for me, but I jerked away so fast that I nearly tripped.

"Don't!" My voice cracked, but it didn't matter. "Don't you fucking touch me, how dare you!" Every nerve in my body was screaming at me to tell him that I loved him too, that we could find a way to make it work, that I would always love him no matter what... but Letha's warnings ran through my head.

She had told me he was dangerous. She told me about his urges, how he would forever be hungry for blood, and that I risked my life every minute I was near him. Letha explained how Roman could hear the heartbeats of everyone within a certain radius, and that every thump reminded him of how hungry he was.

But now, as I looked into his hurt eyes, I could only see...

Pain.

I couldn't look at him anymore. I couldn't hurt him any longer, as Letha said I needed to do-- I had to move. Roman's voice was a faint echo as I started taking shaky steps toward my bedroom; there was no chance I'd outrun him if he wanted to chase me again, so I walked. It didn't take long before I heard him scrambling up from the floor as well, following me into my room.

I could feel him behind me when I stepped inside.

The door clicked shut.

My heart pounded, and I knew he could hear it. I knew.

"Baby--"

"Don’t," I breathed, stopping in the middle of the room before I turned around to face him. Even at this moment, he was beautiful. He was breathtaking in his shirt, even though his previously neat hairstyle had fallen apart with all the running and struggling. How was this fair?

I heard the shift in Roman's breathing, and how he tried to swallow the desperation in his throat. "You’re scared of me,"

I squeezed my eyes shut. "Yes,"

"You don’t have to be," he whispered. "I would never--"

"I do,"

A sharp, broken exhale. He took a step closer, daring to get in my personal space, and I flinched before I could stop myself.

Roman froze.

Silence. Again.

And then--

He dropped to his knees.

I gasped. His hands clutched the fabric of my shirt, Letha's shirt, his forehead pressing against my stomach like he was praying to me. His breath was shaky, his fingers curling and uncurling as if he didn’t know whether to hold me or let me go.

"Please," His voice was wrecked, hoarse with unshed tears. "Please don’t do this."

I stood frozen, my hands shaking at my sides. I wanted to cradle him, wanted to sink down to the floor and hold him, but I couldn't move.

Roman pressed a kiss to my stomach, then another. Then my ribs. Then my hip. A desperate, reverent kind of touch. Not to seduce, not to possess-- but to beg.

"I love you," His voice cracked, his lips ghosting over the fabric of my shirt. "I love you so much, I can’t-- fuck, I can’t lose you!--"

"Roman--"

His body shuddered against mine, his fingers twitching where they clung to me, like if he just held on tightly enough, none of this would be real. "I can control it," he pleaded. "I swear, I swear, baby, please!--"

I swallowed hard, my throat tight. I wanted to believe him so bad, wanted to relent, yet Letha's voice echoed in my head; "He will hurt you,"

"I won’t hurt you," he choked out, contradicting my every thought. "I’d rather die."

My breath hitched as my hands trembled, longing to reach for him. I pressed my lips together, trying to force down the sob rising in my throat; "If you don't want to hurt me, you-- you have to leave. You have to let me go,"

Roman's fingers clutched the fabric of my shirt as he shook his head, a frantic, shattered movement. No, no, no. "I don’t want to," His voice was raw. "Don’t make me. Please don't-- please don't make me."

I squeezed my eyes shut. Don’t look at him. Don’t look at him. "Roman..."

He knew he had lost. It was over. There was nothing more to say. Slowly, painfully, he pulled back, looking up at me with wide, devastated eyes, silent tears streaking his face. He pressed one last, trembling kiss to my hip.

And then--

Roman let go.

He pushed himself up onto unsteady legs. Stumbled back, one step, two.

Heavy.

Everything was, until I felt the relief of his eyes leaving mine. It felt like the weight of his attention lifted a ton from my shoulders. But the momentary solace quickly left me when I watched Roman's gaze shift--

He stilled.

The change was instant. His entire body locked up so tight it was like something inside him had snapped. His breath came shallow, his shoulders rising and falling in sharp, stuttered movements. His fingers flexed and curled like they didn’t know what to do.

I followed his line of sight with my breath catching in my chest, and my stomach dropped when I saw what he was looking at.

The book.

That fucking book.

The Avoidable Vampirism - The Upir.

It lay there on my nightstand, its pages still open, marked by the frantic creases my fingers had pressed into them over and over again. There was no hiding it now.

With a sharp turn, I glanced back at Roman with huge eyes, wondering whether anger would take over his body and trigger him to chew me to death. But alas-- nothing.

Roman didn’t move.

He just stared. His lips parted slightly, his lashes fluttering as he blinked through the tears in his eyes, but he didn’t speak. I could see it, the way the pieces started clicking into place in his mind, how the dots connected in a way that destroyed him.

Finally, we both knew it was over.

Then--

Defeated, Roman turned away.

It was sudden, almost violent, the way he ripped himself away. He staggered toward my window, one hand swiping at his face as he smeared his tears into his skin, his breath a sharp, hollow sound. His entire body shook like he was barely keeping himself together, like the second he stepped outside, he would completely break apart.

Roman reached for the window.

Shoved it open.

But just for a second, he hesitated.

For a second.

For me.

He waited.

He was begging me to say something, to stop him, to tell him he didn’t have to go.

But I didn’t. I couldn't.

So, Roman climbed through the window I had snuck him in through countless times. We had shared countless kisses there; kisses of passion, kisses of joy, kisses goodbye, kisses hello. But now, there would be no more.

With one final look back, his green eyes seared into mine with a look I would never forget.

And then--

Roman Godfrey was gone.

I stood there for longer than I'd ever admit to anyone, staring at the empty space he'd left behind, waiting for him to come back. I could still smell him-- the deep cologne and the faint, metallic tinge of blood clinging to my shirt where he'd been pressed against me just minutes ago. It was Daniel's blood, a trace of what had happened earlier tonight. I couldn't believe I had been happy just a few hours ago. A few hours was all it took to unravel everything.

It was like he had left a ghost of himself behind--- something half-alive, something that would never quite let go of me.

Nothing but the sound of my own breathing filled up the room. It sounded too loud, too shaky. My fingers drifted into my pocket without thinking, curling around the cold glass buried there.

The vials clinked together as I rolled them between my fingers-- his blood, my blood, trapped inside two fragile little prisons, always touching but never quite meeting.

I brought them to my lips, squeezing my eyes shut— I could never get rid of them. Never.

If I crushed them right now, if I just closed my fist and shattered them into a thousand tiny shards, maybe this whole nightmare would shatter with them? Maybe I would wake up and he would still be here, begging me not to send him away? Maybe I could've made a different choice? Maybe he would wrap his arms around me again and swear that he would never hurt me, and maybe this time I would believe him?

But I didn't crush them-- I couldn't.

Instead, I pressed the glass harder against my lips until I tasted the salt of my tears on the rim.

At least in this form, we could be together.

Forever.

Chapter 14: the truth about Roman Godfrey

Summary:

It's been two weeks since the night you parted. It's been torture, it's been hell, it's been two weeks in a perpetual state of agony-- but to make matters worse, the upir you once called your boyfriend has no intension of making your time apart any easier.

Notes:

tw! dub-con

Chapter Text

Roman once complained that I made him feel. He used to go on about it endlessly, that being conscious was a curse, that feeling anything at all was a fate worse than eternal damnation, and honestly? I had never completely understood any of it, as I had been preoccupied with feeling happy whenever he would give me these speeches in the middle of the night, with his arm wrapped around me as he let me rest my head on his bare chest-- he smelled like cigarettes. Cigarettes and sex. That was one of his favorite bands, too... not that he would ever admit to it, of course.

Roman Godfrey hated the entirety of Britney Spears' catalog. Roman Godfrey loved vintage car magazines.

Roman Godfrey hated people who insisted on riding their bicycles during traffic rush hour.

Roman Godfrey loved me.

What the fuck was I supposed to do with all of this knowledge stored in my head? What use did it have now? Two weeks had passed since we broke up, but I had only needed an hour or two to finally understand what Roman was getting at all those times he complained about feelings-- it truly felt like a fate worse than death.

This whole situation had put me in what felt like a comatose state. I had no idea how I was still pulling my ass out of bed to go to school, yet life went on, whether I wanted it to or not.

The hallway buzzed with life around me, but everything felt distant, muffled, like cotton stuffed between my ears. Letha's voice drifted through the haze, bright and animated, as she rattled off about something I should've been listening to. Really, after all she had done for me, I owed her that much... right? Her hands fluttered as she spoke, her freshly manicured nails catching the light in small glimmers.

I nodded at all the right moments, but I wasn't really there.

I never was, anymore.

Instead, my eyes stayed fixed ahead, locked on the far end of the hallway with a look of longing smeared on my face-- in moments like these, I couldn't control it.

Roman sat on one of the low windowsills, half-reclined, legs spread wide. A cigarette dangled lazily between his fingers, unlit, seeing as we were inside. His head was tipped back against the wall, watching the ceiling like it might split open. Maybe he hoped it would? The collar of his shirt was rumpled, the buttons uneven, like he'd gotten dressed in the dark and hadn't bothered to fix it. A girl, probably a cheerleader, stood next to him, leaning in close, too close-- her hair spilled over his shoulder as she whispered something into his ear.

Roman didn't flinch. He just smirked, slow and lazy, before flicking his cigarette between his fingers, keeping himself occupied. The cheerleader giggled (what would this be, his twelfth?) and tucked her hair behind her ear, her fingertips ghosting over his knee.

And just as I thought I would buckle over and throw up right in the hallway, I felt Letha's fingers tighten on my arm, pulling me back-- she had saved me from walking straight into Justin Montgomery, the leader of the track team; "Jeez," Letha mumbled, sending Justin a nasty look as she put her hand on my shoulder. "These brutes don't know how to watch where they're going."

"It's fine," I squeaked-- my intrusive thoughts were telling me to shut my brain down before she gained powers to read my mind and found out why I hadn't watched where I was going. That would've been severely incriminating, after all the times I had assured her I was over Roman by now.

... Liar.

Letha smiled; too sweet, too patient. "Anyway, what do you think?"

I blinked. "About...?"

It didn't take her long to piece together that I hadn't been listening. Letha sighed; "Don't be bothered by him," she tried, motioning towards Roman at the end of the hall with a nod. "He's been doing this since the day you broke up. You know it's a show."

"I know,"

"Then why do you care?"

"I... don't,"

Letha sighed again, patting my arm. "Anyway, so, I was talking about the party at Jasmine's next Friday. You'll come with me, won't you? We always used to have fun, you and I!"

Jasmine? I hadn't heard that name in a while. "I thought she was dead," I mumbled.

Letha scoffed; "Girl, she's not dead! She was just concussed for a while, but it makes sense that you didn't catch any of this... You were still with Roman when she came back to school, and you could barely focus on anything except him,"

My stomach turned. Nothing had changed, then.

I couldn't help but sneak another peek; Roman was laughing now-- low, breathless. The girl was leaning in even closer now, fingers brushing up his thigh. His eyes stayed pinned to her face, but for the briefest second, I saw it; the flicker, the glance.

He knew I was watching.

He wanted me to.

Fucker.

"Please?" Letha's voice cut through the fog again, pressing right against my ear. Her breath was warm against my neck, making me flinch. "I'm desperate to go, even though she turned out to be a fucking hag... she always knew how to throw a good party, though, and I think it will be fun!"

I swallowed hard, eyes still glued to Roman. He leaned back further against the wall, stretching out like a cat in the sun. His smirk grew wider, hungrier. He whispered something back to the girl, just loud enough that I could hear the murmur of his voice, but not the words.

My heart thudded painfully in my chest; "Fine," I breathed. "I'll be distracted there, at least..."

Letha's smile widened like I had passed some kind of test. She looped her arm through mine, warm and possessive. "I knew you'd come around! I'm so glad we're friends again, honestly,"

"Me too," I mumbled, looking away.

I didn't want to go to some party, especially not Jasmine's after what she had done to me. However, I felt like I owed Letha my attendance-- she had helped me with the whole Roman-is-a-upir situation, after all.

It was odd to be friends with her again. It was odd to be acting like this, like we had forgiven each other. It was like I had been catapulted back three or four months when I was running around secretly crushing on Roman-- I had stepped back to square one.

Something felt wrong about everything that was going on.

Everything was wrong.

The cheerleader flirting with Roman right now had no idea who she was currently feeling up. She had absolutely no idea at all, not the faintest clue whatsoever. It was so, so wrong, on all levels, yet there he sat, smug off his ass about the fact that he could flirt with every living thing to gain some leverage in our breakup. I knew him well enough to know he saw this as yet another competition he could win.

Roman Godfrey hated talking about his family. Roman Godfrey loved rambling about space.

Roman Godfrey hated losing.

Roman Godfrey loved me.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

... But first and foremost, I think Roman Godfrey hated losing me.

It became obvious with every day that passed-- that's why he surrounded himself with all these girls.

Roman stood by the vending machine in the cafeteria the next day, leaning against the wall with one shoulder. He was halfway turned away, letting some girl I barely recognized twirl a strand of her hair around her finger while she giggled at whatever he was saying. His smirk was lazy, his eyes hooded like he was barely paying attention, like none of it really mattered to him either.

Except when my gaze locked onto him.

Roman immediately looked up-- he had been keeping an eye on me, and he was giving it away too easy. Way too easy. It was only for a second, a flicker of green cutting through the noise, slicing right into me. My chest got tight as my breath caught on the edges of his stare.

But then, as always, his eyes dropped, flicking away like I wasn't even there, like I was nothing.

For two weeks straight, he had done this almost every day. Roman had conveniently placed himself in my eyesight, and for two weeks, I had let it get to me. I had let it squeeze all the blood out of my heart, let it keep me up at night, and I had let it drive me mad.

And... today was no different.

I tried to concentrate on my food. Tried to move the broccoli around on my tray, twirling my fork between my fingers in order to pass time while I waited for Letha to come and join me. My whole body burned with the knowledge of what he was and what he could do-- but the more I thought about what he could possibly do with his upir powers, the more I thought about what he could also do with his fingers.

If I closed my eyes, I could see it, feel it, hear it.

Roman's voice would get low, dripping with a dangerous mix of seduction and patronizing teasing as his fingers curled inside me; "Someone's getting worked up, hm?"

"Fuck-- Fuck off," I would squirm in his lap, breathing heavily into the crook of his neck as he fingered me. He used to enjoy getting me off like this when he knew I'd had a bad day, he used to get the biggest fucking rush.

Because he liked me, Roman would go slow. Because he adored me, he'd kiss my cheek and allow me to grind up against the heel of his palm. Because he loved me, he'd pull me away from his neck with his free hand and kiss me. Over and over, he'd drag his tongue across my bottom lip with teasing licks, listening to my breath hitching.

Over and over.

"What, you want me to go?" Roman purred, pumping his fingers into me deeper while he kept a steady rhythm. "You want me to leave you like this, all pretty and needy?"

I could only whimper; "Don't--"

"Don't what?"

"Don't leave-- A-Ah--"

God, how I loved him. It was impossible not to.

Sex with Roman had turned into something I never thought it would-- it became a form of saying all the things we couldn't say. Making each other feel good, every tug of the others' hair, every kiss, every stolen whimper or moan, was just our way of saying I love you, I love you, I love you. I knew that, now.

"Aw, that's sweet," Roman's green eyes had shimmered so, so bright that day. "I would never leave you."

I snorted at the memory, and it brought me back to present time. I realized I had crossed my legs, clenching and unclenching to relieve the heat building between my thighs. Fuck. Feeling my cheeks burn with arousal and embarrassment, I glanced back at Roman, but he wasn't looking anymore. He was leaning in closer to the girl now, saying something low against the shell of her ear. My stomach clenched. He didn't even like girls like that... or had he lied?

Roman was doing this on purpose. I tried to tell myself that over and over.

He wanted me to hurt, just like I had hurt him by turning him away.

And in my mind, Letha's words echoed; "I told you," The more I thought about her warnings, the more her perfume flooded my nose. "He's not the same anymore. You know who he is underneath everything! You just didn't want to see it before... but remember that I'm here for you through all of this. I'm your best friend, am I not?"

I swallowed hard, gluing my eyes to the floor. I couldn't look at Roman anymore; I had already seen too much. I had seen what he could become, what he was, when he nearly choked and beat Daniel half to death at prom. The hunger, the darkness-- everything Letha had whispered about in hushed warnings when no one else could hear. I had read about it in that stupid book, and traced my fingers over the pages until they'd crumpled under my touch, but none of that was what haunted me.

It was the look in his eyes the night he left.

The broken, wrecked thing hiding beneath all that anger.

Maybe that was the worst part... That even now, with Letha's voice in my ear and his green eyes haunting my every moment, I still missed him. I still loved him. I was afraid I would do so forever, just as I had promised him.

It was time to fight it.

I stood up from the table, harshly kicking away my chair-- I saw Roman react in the corner of my eye, watching me as I stormed out. His eyes rounded out as he snapped out of his act and stepped away from the girl.

It's on.

Roman Godfrey hated spinach. Roman Godfrey loved the smell of diesel leaking from his red jag.

Roman Godfrey hated old people-- he always said they were gross.

Roman Godfrey loved me.

And I needed to stop loving him, stat.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

I had hoped that my thought-through schemes were a thing of my past. They had led me down several bad roads before, but it seemed I hadn't learned anything at all; because now, I was hatching out my new masterplan.

How to fall out of love with a upir; the ultimate guide.

... That would certainly be more entertaining than the other book about upirs that I knew way too well.

Anyway, I started with the small things. I finally decided that I would change his name in my contacts from Romy Schneider to simply Roman. There was no need to sit around and wallow in the memory of old nicknames, right?

I decided to do this at school, when I was walking to my new class. It didn't feel so ceremonial, then. I made my way up a narrow staircase packed with students squeezing past one another, the air thick with stale heat, and I kept my head down as I removed the nickname whilst trying to disappear into the stream of bodies.

And it was right at this moment that my first efforts of falling out of love fell apart.

It was almost ironic that the second I finished my job and glanced up, I saw him halfway down the stairs, moving in the opposite direction.

Roman.

My heart slammed into my ribs, breath catching painfully in my throat. He was talking to Peter, the two of them tucked close together in the slow-moving crowd. Peter murmured something low, barely audible over the noise, and Roman's lips curved into a smirk-- the kind that always made my stomach flip, once upon a time.

I shouldn't have been looking. I knew that, but I couldn't help it. My eyes traced the line of his throat, the sharp cut of his jaw. He was different now-- colder. His hair fell messily into his face, the shadows under his eyes carving deep into his pale skin. Still beautiful. Still Roman.

And then, like he felt me watching-- his gaze flicked up.

Fuck.

Within one aching second, our eyes locked.

I froze. Everything around me fell away, the rush of voices fading into muffled static. I could feel the burn of his stare pressing into me, pinning me where I stood.

Even better, was the moment I caught Roman's breath visibly catching. Was he maybe finally feeling guilty too?

It made something twist deep inside me, something small and cruel and hungry. Proof that I could still make him feel something-- that maybe I wasn't the only one unraveling under the weight of all this silence.

He recovered quickly, masking the flicker of vulnerability by keeping the same slow pace down the stairs. Peter was still talking, oblivious, but Roman's eyes stayed on me; he didn't look away this time, and neither did I.

I don't know how long we stared at each other. A second, maybe two, or a fucking eternity for all I know, before someone brushed past me, nudging my shoulder hard enough to break the spell. I clutched my phone tighter before I started putting it away into my pocket, forcing my feet to keep moving.

I thought I had gotten away, I really did, but when I glanced back over my shoulder, Roman was... turning?

And then he called my name.

It sounded more like a reflex than anything thought through, torn from him without permission. His voice cut through the crowd, like a signal made for my ears only.

I should've kept walking. I should've pretended not to hear him, but some stupid, aching part of me stopped and turned around.

That was all the invitation Roman needed. He had stopped in the middle of the stairs, looking back at me with those piercing green eyes I was sure I'd never forget-- I would never forget the night they were filled with tears either, as he begged me on his knees not to let him go. My heart ached as I dared to glance a look at Peter who stood by his side, clad with an awkward smile. Poor guy, caught in the middle of this.

"Hey," Roman tried, letting out a shaky exhale.

I couldn't breathe. I really, really couldn't, no matter how hard I tried. Roman could've easily mesmerized me to stay in my place and not move, but as I wiggled my fingers to check for any unusual sensations; nothing. I was standing here of my own free will, and that was somehow worse.

No, actually-- the worst part was when Roman started reaching for me, and his sleeves gathered beneath his wrists, unveiling the two hair ties I had given him months ago. He was still wearing them. He was still wearing them.

I was so distracted that I had let Roman's fingers catch against my wrist, barely a touch, barely there at all, but it was enough to send a shiver racing up my arm.

"Can we?--"

Talk?

No, no, no!

I yanked my hand back like I'd been burned and let out a high-pitched squeak of terror. My mind kept screaming at me that Letha had warned me he was dangerous, that he was a upir, that I shouldn't have ever let him come anywhere near me in the first place-- Roman's eyes widened as the crowd around us suddenly stopped to stare.

Horrified, I shoved my way through the masses of people, heart hammering in my chest. My whole body was shaking, nausea pooling in the back of my throat. I could still feel the ghost of his fingers on my skin, still smell the cigarette smoke clinging to his clothes. I couldn't believe he was still wearing my hair ties, even after flirting with all those girls to get my attention.

He didn't follow me. He couldn't, not with Peter and everyone else right there, watching.

I heard Peter's voice cut in; "Let's go, man,"

Roman didn't answer. I didn't dare look back, but I could feel it; the weight of him standing there, anchored to the spot like he'd been punched in the stomach.

"Roman..." Peter tried again, quieter this time. "Come on, people are looking."

A pause. Then, the faint scrape of shoes against linoleum filled the hall as they started moving again.

I kept walking until the burn in my throat turned into something sharper, something wet. I bit down hard on the inside of my cheek, trying to steady my breath.

I had a masterplan. I had steps to follow, I couldn't get distracted by an incident like this!

... Even if it was the first time we had interacted in about two weeks. My heart swelled with unnameable feelings, unsure how to differentiate between the hurt and the satisfaction of hearing Roman's voice again. I couldn't believe he had been the one to initiate a conversation after how I had shot him down. How broken down must he be?

I tried not to think about it.

Roman Godfrey loved fast cars. Roman Godfrey hated liars.

Roman Godfrey had a weird aversion to green peppers.

Roman Godfrey still loved me, didn't he?

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

Thankfully, Letha was happy to let me air out the thoughts I had been stifling when we met up for a study session the next day;

"It was so fucking rude," I whispered, angrily flicking through the pages of my history book. "He's been flirting with every single girl at this school in front of me, and suddenly he wants to talk to me? He has no right to even say my name!" I had no other way of processing my hurt than through anger; my body would break if it carried any more pain.

Letha sighed, glancing around in the numbing silence of the school library. She seemed anxious about my antics, anxious that I would suddenly raise my voice-- she sat across from me, flipping through her notes with quiet, practiced flicks of her fingers. Her voice was a soft murmur, just loud enough to puncture the hush. "Typical Roman... I told you to be prepared,"

"But people are talking about it!" I shot in. "Are they not? They all heard me whimpering to get away from him, it was so embarrassing!"

Letha's eyes were round with sympathy as she reached forward and put her hand on top of mine, stopping my rapid attack on my history book. "Let them talk,"

"But I!--"

"No one can know the real reason you broke up anyway, so what's the point?" she tried, her voice soft. "If Roman wants to play games, he needs to learn that things have consequences. It's not like his mom taught him that lesson, so... it seems you will be the perfect example."

I kept my eyes fixed on my textbook as I retracted my hand, pretending to read. The words blurred together, meaningless. The more I thought about Roman and his antics, the more I wanted to disappear. "Everything just... hurts," I mumbled. "I know I shouldn't be saying it, but I miss him."

Letha sighed once more, nodding to herself as she watched me drown in my thoughts. "Even though he's flirting with the cheerleaders again?"

"Yes," It was a painful confession; a pathetic one, at most. "He's obviously not into them, he just has no other way of retaliating."

"Retaliating?"

"Obviously? Roman's pissed, this is how he functions," I sucked in a sharp breath, absentmindedly tracing the words in my history book. "I doubt he's sleeping with them though, that's for sure."

Silence.

After a few seconds too long, I glanced up at Letha through my brows. My heart painfully skipped a beat, kicking at my ribs; "You don't think he's?--"

"You don't?" Letha bit the inside of her cheek, crossing her arms over her chest as she leaned back into her chair. "Flash news! My cousin's a whore."

"He's not!"

"He is,"

"Not-- Not anymore!"

"Once a nympho, always a nympho,"

"Not after therapy!" A beat. Two. "Okay, Roman hasn't been to therapy, but he's not a!--"

"Nympho? Totally," Letha said with a snort.

"Not anymore! He's not sleeping with them!" I hissed. "He loves me!"

Letha's shoulder slumped, and she had a peculiar look on her face; come on. "He said that?"

"Yes! I told you this!--"

"Then he's a liar as well," Letha snapped. "Get it in your head, for once." Within a snap of a second, she leaned forward, scooping all her books into a heap while speaking with a lowered voice; "The quicker you understand that being involved with a upir puts you in danger, the quicker you will feel better!"

My temper was coming to a boil. "We were good before I knew, though! Maybe it would've been better if you'd never confirmed it to me in the first place?!--"

"Grow up!" Letha hissed. "Stop taking your anger out on me, and start focusing on staying out of the mess you've made instead!" With that, she stuffed her books into her bag, breathing heavily in and out of her nose to keep calm. Her next words seeped out from between her gritted teeth; "I've done nothing but help you, even after you pulled all that shit behind my back. It wouldn't hurt you to be just a little grateful."

I had half the mind to throw a book at Letha when she turned around, but the further away she got, the more I knew I'd miss. Hesitation one-oh-one.

The other half of my mind came to the clearest conclusion I'd had in a while; the Godfreys were a crazy fucking bunch, and they were certainly not good news. I tried telling myself that Letha was simply looking out for me, and that her harshness could be explained by everything that had happened between us-- that was understandable, after all. If she hadn't harbored any animosity after everything, it would've been weird, right? And if I was having such vivid images of throwing books after her, I couldn't be completely free of animosity either?

Going back to studying after everything that had gone down was a hard task in itself, especially when I felt people all around me whispering. It was either that they had caught onto the fight between me and Letha, or it was the usual-- isn't that Roman Godfrey's girl?

Not anymore, fuckwads.

And just as I was about to wallow in more self-pity, I felt a rather harsh tap on my shoulder, hard enough to make me flinch and turn around to glare at the perpetrator.

... I really shouldn't have.

I looked right up at my math teacher, Mr. Warrens, who was now looming over me with a coffee cup in one hand and a clipboard in the other. He wasn't exactly the scariest teacher in school, but right now he had a damning look on his face which alarmed me; this could certainly not be good news?

"I see this is where you spend your free time, miss?" Mr. Warrens said, raising a brow. "Didn't imagine you were the type to sit around and study anything at all."

I let out the most anxious giggle of all time, blindly closing my history book as I cracked a polite smile. "You'd be surprised,"

"Oh, I am," Mr. Warrens took a sip of his coffee with a presumptuous look in his eyes; "Have you ever considered assorting any study time to maths instead?"

This was mortifying. "I was-- I was planning on doing my math assignment after this, sir,"

He didn't seem particularly convinced by my lie, but with a scoff, he moved on from it; he was the kind of man who could sniff out unfinished homework from across the room. "It doesn't matter. Because you, miss, are particularly lucky today,"

"Oh?"

"Since you're so eager to spend your time sitting around glaring at books without actually understanding the words, I figured this would benefit you more than anyone, so... you're about to become the library's newest unpaid intern,"

I sputtered out my words-- "What?!"

Mr. Wren shrugged, but he couldn't hide the glee burning in his eyes. I bet he had been waiting for a moment to punish me for being a bad maths student. "Godfrey's got detention. You've got missing credits. Think of it as... killing two birds with one stone,"

No.

There was no way.

"... Godfrey?!"

It wasn't until I glanced around that I saw him. Roman stood with his hands stuffed in his pockets, leaning against a shelf of books a little further away, looking utterly bored, as if he had been summoned here against his will-- the same way he was always summoned everywhere. He barely glanced at me, his gaze fixed on a crack in the floor.

Was this what Roman looked like when he wanted to disappear? It was a satisfactory sight.

Mr. Warrens' eyes flicked between us. "Both of you. Sorting books alphabetically. Now. The restricted section is a mess, so I expect you to be thorough. You'll report back to me when you're done,"

"We have a librarian for that!" I snapped. "Why do we?-- I didn't even do anything, sir, I was just minding my own business here! If Roman's got detention, why am I joining?!--"

"Enough!" With one particularly angry slurp, Mr. Warrens downed his coffee and slammed his mug next to my books. "The librarian can't do everything alone, and I can easily stop giving you the passing grade you most certainly don't deserve!"

I swallowed hard. I needed that fucking grade.

I glanced at Roman again, who still wasn't looking at me-- I couldn't believe that Mr. Warrens was unknowingly sending me into close proximity with a upir, the most dangerous carnivore on the planet. Hopefully, Roman wouldn't get the urge to suck me dry of blood for rejecting his confession of love when the doors closed behind us.

Mr. Warrens saw my rebellion drain from my eyes. Did he catch the fear? "Pack your stuff and come with me,"

My pulse quickened as I put my books in my bag and got up, dragging my feet as I followed Mr. Warrens down the library-- it felt like I was walking to a guillotine, my death. It didn't take long before I heard Roman's long steps behind me, the sound of his expensive shoes echoing through the library. "Cute," he muttered under his breath. "Forced labor."

I had to hold back a snort, and I didn't have to look at Mr. Warrens to sense he was rolling his eyes-- "One more word from you, Godfrey, and I schedule a meeting with your mother to discuss your lack of attendance in my class,"

That was enough to make Roman bite his tongue. He didn't want his mother involved with anything, I remembered that much.

The restricted section was tucked away behind locked doors, where the dim lighting made the room feel smaller. Dust floated in the air, illuminated by the yellowish lamps overhead. Rows of tall shelves loomed, lined with battered, forgotten books-- the kind no one could borrow anymore.

Mr. Warrens gave us both stern looks, dangling the keys in his hands. "Don't steal anything, and be done in an hour or so. Got it?"

Roman snorted as he shoved his hands in his pockets again, scanning the books around us; "Unless the school is storing Playboys here, you can rest assured that nothing will be stolen,"

I grimaced, rolling my eyes. "Ew, Roman,"

I couldn't believe this was our first verbal interaction in weeks.

Mr. Warrens didn't seem very pleased either, but he decided to let it go for now-- he turned around on his heel, and the door clicked shut behind him.

I wished I hadn't argued with Letha. Maybe we would've left together instead and gotten ice cream? Maybe Mr. Warrens would've picked someone else? Why couldn't we have studied at Letha's place, like in the good old days? Everything seemed to be going wrong for me today.

I scoured the shelves, not daring to meet Roman's eyes just yet-- there were mostly books the school had deemed inappropriate after buying them, along with some outdated science books from the nineties. I couldn't imagine how we'd manage to sort all of this in one hour.

However, Roman being Roman, he couldn't stop himself from saying the first thing that came to his mind; "You look good," he purred, scanning me up and down from behind with that usual hungry look in his eyes. "There's no need for Playboys when you're here, that's for sure."

I couldn't anticipate how deeply I blushed. Roman never failed to say something nasty, and it never failed to work on me. It was disgusting how easily he could get to me with the worst of methods, even when I was scared. "Stop that," I mumbled. Finding the courage to face Roman, I slowly turned to him as I prayed to all entities of the galaxy that he wasn't standing over me with his fangs ready for me in the dark.

Alas--

He stood leaned against the nearest shelf, dragging a lazy hand through his hair. His green eyes met mine, neutral, certainly not pouncing on me yet. Roman bit back a smirk, clearly happy to be locked in here with me. "What, are you gonna report me for harassment?"

"I might,"

"Shut up, you like it when I'm nasty,"

I did, but he didn't need to get it confirmed. More than ever, I wanted to wipe that smirk off his face, so I thought I'd hit him where it'd hurt; "What'd you do to deserve this, then?"

Roman blinked. "Which part? You leaving me, or detention?"

Ouch. My heart thudded with pain-- my attempt at hurting him had backfired like Daniel's dad's car. All the times I had promised Roman that I'd never leave him flashed before my eyes-- all the promises, the repeated assurance. It became clear to me that his little act of confidence was just that, an act. My voice was meek when I managed to speak, a mere whisper; "Detention,"

Roman crossed his arms over his chest, tsking. "Existing," His voice was low, bored, but there was something sharp beneath it.

"I see..." I knew that it either involved skipping class or being caught smoking behind the school. Typical Roman behavior, really.

The air felt thick. I couldn't breathe. Not only was I in danger, being alone with a upir like this, but I felt also felt unbelievably guilty.

I dropped my bag on the floor, already reaching for the first book on the shelf, doing anything to keep my hands busy. Waiting for Roman to say something meaningful after he had insisted on talking to me yesterday on the stairs, I remained quiet as I flipped the book open. My fingers trembled against the paper with anticipation, yet-- nothing.

For a while, none of us spoke. The only sounds were the shuffle of pages and the soft thud of books being placed back onto shelves. Every so often, Roman would reach past me, brushing against my shoulder or the curve of my waist; fleeting, accidental touches that made my heart lurch painfully inside my chest with both fear and suppressed excitement.

It felt like some twisted punishment. To be this close to him again, close enough to smell the faint trace of cigarette smoke clinging to his jacket, but not close enough to say any of the things clawing at the back of my throat.

Finally, I couldn't take it anymore; "Are you really not going to say anything?"

Roman stopped, holding up a book mid-air. It was at this moment that I caught a glance of my hair ties still hanging around his wrist. "Say what? I feel like I've said enough,"

"You... wanted to say something yesterday,"

"Oh," he mumbled, putting away the book in the correct alphabetical order. "Just wanted to check if you were alright."

"... What?"

"I saw you storming out of the cafeteria the other day. Just wondered if I was the reason,"

The feeling I'd had when I nearly threw a book after Letha a few minutes ago returned, and I caught myself gripping the book I was holding tighter as my body anticipated flinging it at Roman. However, I restrained myself and turned away from him. "Would it satisfy you if I told you that you were?"

Roman didn't miss a beat-- "No,"

For fuck's sake.

"I won't ever be satisfied," he continued. "Not until you wake up and get it in your head that I'm supposed to be with you, and no one else."

My heart was in my throat, and I placed my hand on the shelf in front of me to steady myself. My knees had gone weak, threatening to give up on me. I couldn't breathe. Hearing Roman say that made me dizzy beyond reason-- or was that the dust? I had to get myself together. "Actually, my head has never been clearer than after figuring you out, thank you very much," I snapped. "Flirt with all the cheerleaders in the tri-state area. Do whatever you want, Roman. At least I know I won't have to see any of it after we graduate next summer."

His expression remained unreadable up until my last sentence, as something flickered behind his eyes, dark and wounded. "You think I like this?"

My hands stilled around the book I was holding. "I think you're trying to hurt me," I whispered.

Roman stepped forward, just a fraction-- it made me turn around to face him. Standing with my back to him didn't feel very safe. Roman got close enough that I could feel the ghost of his breath on my temple. His fingers brushed against the shelf beside my head, trapping me in place without touching me; "Yeah?" His voice was quieter now, almost dangerous. "Is it working?"

My whole body was close to trembling, torn between wanting to slap him across the face and wanting him to kiss me. It was giving me the biggest deja vu to seven minutes in heaven all those months ago-- the dim lights, the close proximity, the danger of the situation.

It was sick, how badly I missed it all.

Roman's eyes flicked down to my mouth. "Speak,"

Fuck. "No,"

"Liar,"

"Me?!"

"Who else?"

I gasped; "So I'm the liar? Says the secret upir!"

Roman reacted like I had pressed hot iron to his skin. With a knee-jerk reaction, he turned away, running his tongue along the inside of his cheek like he'd caught himself making a mistake. He picked up another book, pretending like nothing had happened.

Now that his back was turned to me, I pressed the palm of my hand to my face-- that was too harsh, wasn't it? A meek sorry slipped past my lips before I could stop it. Why was I apologizing?

"Let's just get this over with," Roman mumbled, flickering through the book that had caught his fake interest.

Seeing him like this made me want to walk up to him and give him a hug from behind. I hadn't done enough of those when I'd had the chance. There were many things I should've done when I still had him-- I couldn't believe I wasn't going to get the opportunity to kiss the beautiful tip of his nose anymore.

The more I dwelled on the past, the more it hit me that Roman was still a person despite the fact that he was also a upir. He had laid his heart out to me that night those two weeks ago, so maybe it was fair to show him that I was hurting as well?

God, how I wanted him to be okay.

Which is exactly why I allowed myself to pose the question; "Are you really sleeping with them?" The words slipped out before I could stop them, soft and fragile.

Roman froze halfway through reaching for another book. His knuckles went white around the spine. For a long moment, he didn't look at me. "What?"

My stomach twisted; "The cheerleaders. The girls you've been... flirting with. Are you sleeping with them?"

He was still for so long that I thought he might not answer at all. Then, slowly, he set the book down on the shelf, deliberate, controlled, before turning to face me. "Why do you care?"

My breath caught in my chest-- what a stupid question.

Imagining Roman having sex with any of those girls made me sick, that's why I cared. Thinking about him kissing them like he used to kiss me, touching them like he used to touch me, made me want to slam my head into the bookshelves around us to crack my skull open. How would he talk to them? Would he call them sweet names, like he used to call me? Would he groan into the crook of their necks as he came, would he talk them through it when they did as well?

I needed to shut my mind off before I threw up.

Roman's mouth curved when I didn't answer, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. "Right..." He nodded to himself, letting it sink in that I cared, that I saw. The tension in the room stretched thin, vibrating between us like a live wire. "I'm not sleeping with them," he eventually said. "If that helps you sleep at night."

I wanted to call Letha and yell at her that I was right, that he wouldn't go so far to prove his point. Not when our breakup was this fresh, anyway. "Thanks," I mumbled.

Roman insisted on the subject; "Maybe I should, though? Maybe that would make you come back running?"

I was two seconds from buckling over and barfing all over the outdated science books. "You're an ass,"

"Are you surprised?"

"Nope," I huffed. "Just wondering whether you'd actually be able to."

"Able to...?"

With a tiny smile tugging at the corners of my mouth, I crossed my arms over my chest and leaned my back against the shelf. Like this, I could size Roman up properly, and I felt I had some sort of defence with my attack; "Y'know, like... get it up, and all,"

Roman snorted, visibly offended. "What the fuck are you on about?"

"I don't know, Rome, like you'd ever want to fuck anyone else after having been with me?"

Hearing his old nickname, he froze, his green eyes widening as the initial shock seeped out of his lungs. "That's not how dicks work," he mumbled. "If there's a possibility to have sex, it will be ready, believe me."

I scanned him. Properly. All from the way he was breathing, from the way his eye twitched with retained frustration. Roman was two seconds from cracking, and I knew it. He was lying. "Okay, discarding my seemingly limited knowledge of how dicks function, would your conscience be okay with it?"

Roman needed a minute to let his brain churn through the question, weighing all possible answers. While thinking, his eyes scoured the room, moving on autopilot as he held his breath-- it didn't take long for him to find an outdated book on anatomy, and he held it out for me to take.

I snorted. "Funny," I mumbled, accepting the book. "Answer the question, Roman."

"No,"

"No?" I watched as he walked away from me again and started trying to organize. "Don't be like that, just answer the fucking!--"

"No, I wouldn't be okay with it,"

Silence.

Roman let out a sigh as he leaned his forehead against a shelf, shutting his eyes as he tried to steady his breathing. "I still love you, whether I want to or not. There's nothing I can do but wait for it to go away, so until then, I think it'd kill me,"

... Oh.

I couldn't feel my fingers. It felt like my heart had sunk into my diaphragm, beating low in my stomach. There was nothing I could do when my eyes welled with tears except press the anatomy book to my chest, hoping to relieve the pain. For a second, I forgot that I was afraid. When the second stretched to many more, I even forgot that Roman was a upir.

For about a minute, Roman was simply the man I had fallen in love with.

"Rome?"

He didn't turn his head to me, not fully, but I could see the bitter tears forming in the corner of his eye.

"Rome, do you... can you hear my heart?"

I knew he could. I knew his upir senses allowed him to hear it clear as day.

And Roman nodded, so faintly I could barely see it. "I can hear that you're scared, if that's why you're asking," he mumbled. "I'm not stupid."

I swallowed hard. I shouldn't be initiating this conversation. Letha said it was dangerous, the book said it was dangerous, my mind was screaming at me to stop-- but my heart... my heart bled for him. "That's not fear,"

With slow moves, Roman turned his head to properly look at me. He saw the way I pressed my back up against the shelf behind me, how I clutched the anatomy book like it would protect me from my feelings.

"Whatever you feel for me, Rome, I can assure you... I feel it for you a million times more,"

It was the truth, nothing more.

"I don't think we're soulmates. I don't believe that meeting you was some sort of divine intervention, because then you wouldn't be what you are. But I can be certain that this wasn't pure chance either, because... I willed this. Ever since I first saw you, I felt ready to go through whatever I needed to do to get to you,"

Roman's lips parted, his pupils dilating as his green eyes rounded out.

"I love you," I breathed. "And I should've said it that night, because I've always loved you. I love you with every bit of conscience I was born with. I love you, Roman."

Finally.

I exhaled.

My shoulders sank with the weight that was relieved off my soul.

Finally, he knew. Finally, I had said it.

There was a quiet gasp, a sharp inhale, followed by a silent tear rolling down Roman's cheek. His lower lip quivered as he spoke in a whisper; "Then what the hell are we doing?"

That was not the response I had expected-- not that I had thought this through, of course, but that was certainly not it. Seeing him upset like this reminded me of the night of our breakup, and it made me freeze in my spot. Had we not suffered enough?

"If you love me, and I love you, aren't we... supposed to be together? Isn't that how this works?"

"Not always," I breathed, slowly turning to put away the anatomy book I had been clutching. "There are millions of stories of people who love each other but can't be together... Look around."

Roman smeared his tears into his skin. "I don't want to be one of those stories,"

"We were never supposed to happen in the first place," I mumbled. "Maybe if we stop fighting the fact that we should be apart--"

"But I don't want to be apart from you," It seemed to be dawning on Roman how serious this conversation was, how final it felt. "And if you love me as you say you do, shouldn't you want to be with me?"

"It's not that easy!--"

"So, what then? You're saying you don't want to be with me because it's not easy? You love me, but you give up?" Roman's fists clenched and unclenched as he tried to remain calm, yet his efforts didn't pay off. His words came out with his next exhale, relenting to the pain of his confusion; "Why can't we just be together?"

I swallowed hard. "You know why, Roman,"

"No, I don't," Roman stepped closer, too close, his breath falling hot against my cheek. "I don't-- I don't fucking get it anymore."

This confrontation felt like a punch to the chest.

"You say you love me," His voice was low, pleading. "Not even my own fucking mother loves me, so I know that love is a heavy thing, and I know that you can't just--" He broke off, dragging a hand through his hair. "You can't just turn that off!"

My heart was trying to twist itself out from between my ribs as I looked up into Roman's big, green eyes. "I know," I breathed. "I can't turn it off. Believe me, I've tried."

"I've tried too," Roman whispered, inching closer. "But at the end of the day, I only want you."

My throat closed up. He seemed so sincere, so utterly desperate-- I kept wiggling my fingers to make sure they weren't tingling, that he wasn't using his powers on me, because I felt more and more overcome by the emotions I had been suppressing these past few weeks. "Even after flirting with all those cheerleaders?" I breathed, giving in to a pout.

Roman's gaze narrowed with a look of come on as he placed his hand on the bookshelf behind me, locking me in again. Instinctively, I pressed my back against the shelf, swallowing over and over-- how had I let him get so close? "You're not who I thought you were," I whispered.

Roman flinched, his jaw tightened, yet he didn't back off. "I'm still me,"

"You're barely human,"

"I'm still me," His voice broke open, hoarse. "I'm still the same guy who kissed you in a shitty closet during seven minutes in heaven."

God, that was a hundred years ago. My heart cracked straight down the middle-- I could still feel that night like it was stitched under my skin. "But you're not safe," My voice was barely above a whisper. "I'm not safe with you around."

Roman sighed, his lashes falling heavy over his eyes; "With that logic, you were never safe in the first place. But when have I ever put you in danger? When have I ever harmed you? I kicked a fucking car away from you, and mind you, it was coming at you at about a hundred kilometers an hour! If I'm willing to do that, you have to understand that I would never hurt you!"

My chest heaved. This was too much.

"Don't listen to Letha," he pleaded. "I'm not even a full upir yet, I'm less dangerous than a fucking hippo!"

Wait.

... What?

He wasn't... a full upir?

It felt like I had been sucker-punched in the stomach. My eyes sprung wide open, staring at Roman and his exasperated expression-- it quickly fell apart as he scanned his mind with a grimace, his gaze turning to the ceiling as he pondered how to rephrase it. "Actually, hippos are really fucking dangerous, aren't they?" he mumbled mostly to himself. "I don't know, okay, who's like... moderate on the scale?"

I couldn't breathe. "Roman--"

"What about those small hippos? The ones that only bite people's knees and stuff?--"

"Roman, you're not a full upir?!"

He stopped his rambling, adjusting his stance as he scanned my face. He blinked. Once, twice. "No...?" His words were slow, trying, as he tested the waters. "Letha didn't tell you that?"

"Letha has nothing to do with this!" I lied, trying to catch my breath.

"Letha has everything to do with this," Roman grumbled. "I'm not fucking stupid. You were wearing her clothes that night, and you smelled like her incense for rich schizos! If you think you're not being manipulated here, think again!"

"Letha is my best friend!" I choked out. "She is trying to keep me safe!--"

"From what?!" Roman huffed, raising his voice as his frustrations rose. "From me? I don't even have venom!"

My heart stopped. It was true.

If Roman hadn't died before, he couldn't be venomous.

If Roman hadn't died before, his urges were mostly dormant.

If Roman hadn't died before, he... wasn't really a proper upir.

Yet.

This changed everything.

My lips parted in shock as I looked away from him, my chest rising and falling with every shaky breath. It didn't help anything when the dizziness kicked in. "I feel like I'm going to faint," I mumbled, changing my weight from one foot to another.

"You're not," Roman adjusted the hand he had on the shelf behind me, getting ready to catch me if I were to crumble to the floor. "Not to freak you out, but I would've sensed your blood pressure dropping."

"I know," I breathed. "I remember that from the car crash."

"Ah," Roman kept trying to read me, kept trying to understand what had just happened in my mind. "Look, why do I have a feeling that... this changes things?"

"What does?"

"That I'm not... that thing, fully,"

I swallowed hard, daring to meet his green eyes-- they were so heartbreakingly full of hope. "I still can't trust you,"

Roman dared to lean down further, the tip of his nose nearly touching mine. "Then let me prove to you that you can," he whispered against my lips. "Let me show you that I have control."

"But--"

"Let me," he begged. "Please."

I couldn't breathe, not when he was this close. Suddenly, it felt like my whole body was on fire, just like it had been before.

Roman's chest was heaving.

He was so, so close.

I knew I was putting my life on the line for this, but... it felt worth it.

Roman's breath fanned across my lips, his presence overwhelming. The weight of his promise lingered between us, and for the first time in what felt like forever, I wasn't sure if I was fighting against him or surrendering entirely.

I barely had a second to consider before his lips brushed against my neck, featherlight, barely there-- it was enough to set every nerve in my body alight. I sucked in a sharp breath, fingers clutching at the bookshelf behind me as if it were the only thing keeping me grounded. The heat of his mouth lingered, sending a shiver down my spine, but the sharp sting of fangs never came. He stayed, lips parted against my skin, just breathing me in.

I didn't realize my hands had let go of the shelf until I felt them against his chest, my fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt. I could feel his heartbeat against my palm-- steady, real. For all his inhuman traits, for all my fear and hesitation, he was still a boy standing in front of me, waiting for me to believe in him. My boy.

"See?" he murmured, his lips still hovering over my pulse point. "There is nothing to be scared of."

I was trembling, but not from fear anymore. The realization hit me all at once-- I had missed this, missed him. Before I could think better of it, my hands slid up, over his shoulders, around the back of his neck. His hair was soft beneath my fingertips, and when I tugged, just slightly, his breath hitched.

That was all it took-- he knew what I wanted.

Roman's lips met mine with a desperation that burned through every hesitation I'd tried to hold onto. There was no doubting, no second-guessing-- it was raw, breathless, words of longing condensed into the way his mouth moved against mine, how his hands found my waist and pulled me flush against him. He kissed me like he was trying to prove something, like he was trying to rewrite everything that had happened between us, like nothing had ever happened at all.

I moaned against Roman's lips, and he took the opportunity to deepen the kiss, tilting his head to claim more of me. My legs felt weak, my was head spinning, but I didn't stop; I couldn't. My fingers tangled in his hair, his name slipping from my lips between kisses, and I felt him groan in response-- a low, needy sound that sent a thrill down my spine.

Then, the tension snapped like a live wire. One moment, I was standing, and the next, gravity had me. But it wasn't clumsy, wasn't an accident, it was something deeper, something inevitable-- the bookshelves groaned under our weight as we slid down, slow and spiralling, our descent fuelled by tangled fingers, desire, and unspoken longing. The world outside the restricted section ceased to exist, and Roman's hands were everywhere, threading through my hair, gripping my waist, pulling me closer with desperation.

By the time we hit the floor, breathless and entwined, the air between us was electric, charged with something neither of us could name. Roman hovered over me, eyes dark, lips swollen, his thumb brushing over the curve of my cheek.

"Fuck," I cursed, shivering-- I was losing control, spiralling with every sweet touch. What was I doing? What was I thinking? I shouldn't be doing this. Roman was still a upir, full or not. My mind went haywire with conflicting thoughts as he leaned down to kiss me again, and I bunched the fabric of his shirt between my fingers.

Roman groaned against my lips, like he could feel me slipping and wouldn't allow it. His hands tightened, fingers splaying against my waist, dragging me closer until there was no room to think, only to feel.

"I love you," he murmured, breath warm against my skin as his lips traced the edge of my jaw, down the curve of my throat. His voice was lower now, almost coaxing, like he knew exactly what was holding me back, and he was determined to make me forget.

I should've stopped this. I should've pushed him away. But when his teeth grazed my pulse, a sharp gasp escaped me, my body arching before I could think it through properly. My grip on his shirt tightened, nails digging into him as if he were the only thing keeping me tethered to the earth.

"Tell me to stop," Roman whispered, lips hovering over the hollow of my throat, his breath shaky, uneven. His restraint was a fragile thing-- I could feel it in the way his fingers flexed against my skin, the way his whole breath trembled with need.

I opened my mouth, ready to say it, ready to end this before it spiralled further...

But those words never came.

Instead--

"Don't," I whispered. "Don't stop."

I dragged him back to me, crashing my lips against his like he was the only thing in the world that could keep me breathing.

Roman groaned into the kiss, a sound so raw it sent a bolt of heat down my spine. "You drive me insane," he rasped, and before I could think, before I could remember why I was supposed to stop, his hands were sliding beneath my shirt, fingertips burning against my skin.

And I let him.

I let him wry my shirt off.

I let him drag my pants off.

I let him kiss my thighs, let him press a kiss to my clit through my underwear, let him kiss his way back up my stomach, and to top it off-- I was quite sure I ripped a button off his shirt to get it off of him.

Fuck. Had I lost my mind?

"I'm so screwed," I mumbled, clutching onto Roman's hair as he sucked a hickey into the skin of my shoulder. "I have no control when it comes to you." Closing my eyes, I relished in the fact that there'd at least be a mark left behind from this like a reward-- I'd have remnants of Roman on my shoulder for at least a week, if this was the last time we ever did this. It couldn't be. Could it?

Would I never feel Roman like this again? It made my heart ache as I tugged his hair harder, like it would make us stay in this moment forever.

Roman hummed against my skin before he raised himself, hovering above me. His lids were heavy over his green eyes, darkened with lust-- but in the midst of the want, there was love, shining down on me with the clearest ray of sun. "I'll lend you some of mine then," he murmured, before getting off of me.

What?

What was happening right now?

I laid on the floor, my brows drawing together in confusion as my eyes followed him-- what was he doing, lying down next to me?

It wasn't until Roman smiled at me, the first genuine one in a while, that I got an inkling of what he was thinking. "Sit," he said.

... Sit?

Now I was unsure again.

I scrambled to my knees, wondering what on earth he was planning to do. "Rome, what are you?-- Ah!"

Roman wasted no time hooking his strong arm around my leg, dragging me towards him like I weighed nothing as I yelped. With a quick manoeuvre, I was somehow straddling his chest as my cheeks burned. "Giving you control," he murmured, now pulling me towards his face.

... Oh God.

"Sit,"

My hand shot to the bookshelf, keeping myself steady as Roman's darkened eyes urged me to use him, to do whatever I wanted to him, while he slowly pulled my underwear to the side. "Ro-- Roman, I--"

All the air in my body caught in my throat as he leaned forward off the floor, dragging me down with him as he covered my mound with his mouth, sucking me in. My legs gave in to a tremble, letting out a broken moan as I instinctively let go of the edge of the shelf-- this couldn't be real. This couldn't be happening.

But when Roman sucked down on my clit with the gentlest of pressures, just how he knew I liked it, I knew I wasn't imagining it.

For the love of all things holy, I hoped Mr. Warrens wouldn't walk in on me like this, straddling Roman's face. He'd fail us both, and possibly get us expelled-- a big part of me wanted to just disappear and die, but the other only wanted more.

I had no idea what came over me when I grabbed Roman's hair to anchor myself and rolled my hips into his face. It felt rough, too commanding, too much like I was taking advantage, all until he let out a happy hum; this is what he had wanted, for me to feel in control.

It felt too good to stop, and it only made me tug his hair harder-- he seemed to like that, as usual. Waves of pleasure coursed through my body as Roman swirled his tongue around my clit, only to later seal his lips around it, moaning, sending vibrations all throughout my system. It became too much to bear when I felt closer and closer to the edge a little too soon, and I let out a squeak of clear overstimulation before I raised myself from his mouth, letting my quivering thighs bring me back to the floor again.

I tried to catch my breath as I stared back at Roman in disbelief, where he lay on the floor with parted lips and a satisfied look on his face. He slowly turned to me, my slick glistening around his mouth; "Still scared?" he purred.

Yes.

Yes, yes, absolutely yes.

"It seems like you're the one struggling with control," he continued, not bothering to wipe the victorious smirk off his face. "You can't stay away from me, can you?"

I swallowed hard. My body felt like it was on fire, my mind screaming at me to stop, to run, but I couldn't move.

Roman propped himself up on his elbows, his gaze heavy-lidded with satisfaction; "No matter what you tell yourself, you'll always come back to me. That's what you're really scared of, isn't it?"

"No!" I breathed, shaking my head. "That's not-- not true!--"

"Isn't it?" Roman tilted his head, watching me like a predator that had already caught its prey. His smirk didn't fade, but something in his expression darkened, sharpened, like my denial had cracked through his amusement. "You don't sound convinced."

He sat up slowly, moving with an unbearable grace as he reached for me-- not roughly, not desperately, but deliberately, fingers tracing over the inside of my knee before drifting up, light as a whisper.

Roman watched my every move with precision as he dragged the tip of his thumb across my bare skin. "You're nervous," he observed. "But not because you're afraid..." His smirk deepened as I tensed under his touch. "I can feel you, y'know. Hear you. Your heart doesn't lie."

I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. I couldn't speak.

Roman leaned in closer, slow and unhurried, his lips ghosting over my ear as he exhaled a warm breath.

"You can fight it all you want," he continued, his voice like silk laced with something richer, something darker. "Tell yourself whatever you need to, but we both know the truth, don't we?"

Roman's hand drifted higher, his fingers brushing over the fabric of my underwear-- he wanted them off.

"You'll always be mine,"

Goosebumps appeared across my skin, my body betraying me once more. How was it possible to fear someone so much, but to want them even more? Why couldn't I pull myself together?

I didn't have time to think about it; with a swift, fluid motion, he lunged forward and had me on my back. My breath hitched as the floor was suddenly beneath me, Roman above me, caging me in. His hand splayed over my hip, holding me down, his body pressed flush against mine.

Then, when he kissed me, it wasn't soft. It wasn't gentle. It was a claim, fierce and unrelenting, his mouth crashing against mine as if he was starving for me. Heat surged between us, my fingers tangling in his hair before I could even think. There was no space, no hesitation, no room for anything except the sharp, dizzying pull of him dragging me under.

Roman kissed me like he wanted to consume me, his lips hot and desperate; his sharp teeth grazed my lower lip, making my whole body jolt. His fingers dug into my hip, keeping me flush against him, his other hand fisting into my hair to tilt my head back, deepening the kiss until I couldn't think, couldn't breathe.

I should've stopped him.

I could've stopped him.

But I didn't.

Instead, I arched into him, my nails dragging over his bare skin as I let him press me harder into the floor. Roman groaned into my mouth, the sound vibrating through my body, and it sent something wild through me-- something I couldn't control, something that made me wrap my legs around his waist without thinking.

That was all it took.

Roman cursed under his breath, his hand sliding down my thigh, gripping tight as he ground against me, slow and deliberate, making sure I felt all of him. His breath was ragged, his control slipping, and the worst part was how it wholeheartedly thrilled me.

"I need to have you," he rasped, his lips dragging down my jaw, my throat. "I need you."

My pulse pounded in my ears, my body burning everywhere he touched. I wanted to deny it. I wanted to tell him he was wrong. But when his teeth grazed my neck, a gasp tore from my lips, and I knew I was completely, utterly lost. "Here?" I breathed.

Roman smirked against my skin, his breath hot as he traced the faint mark his teeth had left with the tip of his tongue. "Here," he said-- "Now."

I shivered beneath him, every nerve in my body betraying me, bending to his touch, to his voice, to him. I hated it. I craved it.

Roman's hips rolled against mine, slow, torturous, and every time the outline of his hard cock lined up with my clothed clit, I arched into him without thinking. He let out a low, satisfied hum, dragging his nose up the side of my neck before pressing his lips to my ear.

"See?" he murmured, his voice thick with triumph. "You need me too."

I did. I did.

When his mouth slanted over mine again, hot and demanding, I kissed him back just as hard, My fingers twisted into his hair, body surging against him, desperate and reckless and lost. Roman groaned against my lips, his hands tightening around my waist as he dragged me closer, as if even the press of our bodies wasn't enough; it would never be enough.

"Do you--" I could barely speak, nor pull away. "Do you-- Condom?"

Roman's heavy breath fell against my mouth, pressing his clothed cock against my clit harder, watching me whimper. "Nope," he said. "But we're still gonna fuck."

Christ.

This was the stupidest idea ever.

But the more I looked into Roman's eyes, the more I realized he was searching mine for a sign of permission, waiting for a green light despite his confident rouse. I gave in to my desire; "You might want to get my underwear off, then," I mumbled, biting down on my lower lip to stop it from quivering-- my adrenaline was shot.

With a proud huff, Roman gave my cheek a quick kiss, a sweet one, before he propped himself up on his knees, hooking his fingers around my underwear. "Up," he ordered, and I submitted to his command with no further thought. Lifting my hips, I let Roman pull my underwear down my legs, and just as I thought he was about to throw them away, he... tucked them into the front pocket of his jeans?

"Hey!" I whined. "I need those, I'm wearing pants today!--"

"Don't care,"

And suddenly, Roman leaned forward, grabbing my chin to keep my eyes focused on him with a firm hold. His thumb brushed over my bottom lip, his grip firm but not unkind, and his smirk deepened as he tilted my chin up, making sure I had nowhere to look but at him. "You don't need them right now, do you?"

I swallowed hard, shaking my head.

Roman held back a laugh before he shifted back, his eyes dropping between my legs. The hunger in his gaze made my stomach flip. He spread my thighs wider, running his fingers up the inside of one, slow, teasing, until his knuckles brushed against my sex.

"God," he breathed, slipping his fingers through the slick heat between my legs. He pulled back just enough to watch my face as he dragged them over my clit, rubbing lazy circles that made my legs tremble. "You're fucking soaked."

Why was he surprised? Roman had literally manhandled me to sit on his face three minutes ago. I clenched my jaw, refusing to give him the satisfaction. "Shut up," I mumbled, but my voice wavered when his fingers pressed against me firmer.

Roman only grinned as heat flushed through me-- I tried to turn my head away, but his grip on my chin tightened. "Nuh-uh," he murmured, voice thick with amusement. "Oh, don't go shy on me now."

Fuck it.

I grabbed the collar of his shirt and dragged him down into a kiss, rough and impatient. Roman groaned against my lips, pressing his fingers inside me in one smooth motion-- I gasped, my body arching into him as he curled them just right, sending sparks up my spine. I was so screwed.

"That's it," he breathed, kissing down my jaw, my throat, my collarbone. He dipped his fingers deeper, filling me at a sweet pace. I let out a choked gasp, my body betraying me, hips lifting to chase more friction.

Roman groaned, his forehead falling against mine, but his smug grin never wavered.

"Fuck, you're gripping me so tight, baby," He curled his fingers, hitting that spot that nearly made me see white-- the spot I never managed to reach on my own. "Like you're scared I'll leave, or..." His breath ghosted over my lips; "Like you're scared you'll never get this again."

I whimpered, fingers tightening in his hair.

"That's it, isn't it?" His voice was almost sweet. "You think I'm some monster, but here you are... Letting me have you anyway." Roman's grin softened, and he would've almost seemed affectionate if it weren't for the sharp, possessive glint in his eyes. "Because you love me."

I jerked, but he caught my chin again, keeping my gaze locked in his; "Say it,"

I shook my head. Deny, deny, deny. Was I really gonna give it to him this easy?

"Say it," he repeated, the demand a breath away from my lips.

My chest heaved. I wanted to fight it, but I was drowning in Roman, in the way he touched me, in the way he knew--

"I love you," I choked out, moving my hips to meet his fingers. It felt too good. I couldn't think. I couldn't function. I couldn't, I couldn't, I couldn't.

Roman's cocky smirk faltered. He watched me give in, watched me crumble, and just for a second, he almost looked relieved that it was real, that it wasn't something he had made up. But then it came back, slow and satisfied, like he had just won. "Yeah, you do," he purred, letting go of my chin. Roman yanked his belt open, shoved his jeans down just enough; "And you're gonna let me fuck you, even though you're scared of what I am." He ran the tip of his cock through my slick folds, teasing, dragging out my torment. "Because you love me too much to stop yourself, don't you?"

I bit down on my lip, eyes squeezing shut-- was this really happening? Was I about to get fucked on the library floor by the one person I had told myself to avoid? My every breath felt painful, yet satisfactory. Fucking masochist.

"Look at me," Roman ordered, voice low with want.

I forced my gaze up, and he looked like he melted at the sight of me-- wrecked, desperate, completely his, like I would always be. "Fuck," Roman groaned, his fingers tightening against my thigh. "Look at you." He reached down to tap the tip of his cock on my clit, making me squirm beneath him with a broken moan. His smirk was positively sinful; "You're shaking, baby."

Of course I was. Asshole. Every nerve in my body was burning with need, with anticipation, with the unbearable weight of Roman's unrelenting teasing.

"So needy," he murmured, almost like he was in awe. "You keep telling yourself this is wrong, but look at where you are..." He gave a shallow thrust, barely pressing inside before pulling back, a cruel little preview that had me gasping; "Letting the big, bad upir fuck you in the back of the library, hm?"

I whimpered, fingers clawing at his arms. I had lost. I had lost.

Roman hummed, pleased with my reaction. "Yeah... that's what I thought," He rocked forward again, just enough for the head to push inside, stretching me open. "You keep fighting me, keep pushing me away, but when I've got you like this? When I'm about to fuck you stupid?" He leaned in, his breath hot against my ear; "You let me do whatever I want."

I moaned, humiliated by how true it was. I should have ran from him, should have stayed away, but here I was, legs spread for him, letting him win once again.

Roman chuckled, the sound low and indulgent. His hand dragged down my stomach, fingers pressing lightly against the bulge of his cock just barely inside me. "Feel that?" He pushed in another inch, making me gasp. "That's not even half of me, baby. You're already losing it."

I grabbed at his shoulders, desperate; "Roman--"

"What?" he taunted, dragging out every syllable. He eased out completely, making me whimper at the loss, before pressing back in achingly slow. "You want more?"

I nodded frantically, arching against him.

Roman groaned, eyes darkening. "Yeah? You want me to fill you up, baby? I have a feeling you missed me," His cock pulsed against my entrance, teasing, teasing, teasing--

I was about to break. "Please," I begged. "If we're gonna fuck, let's-- do it properly."

His smirk widened; "Properly?"

I knew I had messed up by the sound of his words.

Roman held back a mocking laugh-- I could feel it.

"Fine,"

Then, without warning, Roman's fingers dug into my hips as he pulled me further onto him, filling me to the brim. I cried out, my back arching clean off the floor, my entire body tightening around him. Panicked, I grabbed his hands, trying to find some comfort.

And comfort, I got. Roman groaned, dropping his forehead against mine, and it allowed me to wrap my arms around him instead. "Shit--" He stayed still for a second, like he was savoring the feeling of my embrace. His breath was ragged, his cock twitching inside me.

Then he pulled out halfway and pushed into me again, harder this time, knocking the air from my lungs. "That's it," he muttered, setting a slow, deep rhythm that had me seeing stars. His lips found my throat, sucking a mark against my skin, branding me over and over. "Still scared of me?" he panted, dragging his teeth over my pulse.

I was. I was terrified--

But not of this.

Not of him inside me, of the way he stretched me open, of how good he made me feel. Instead, I was scared of how badly I needed him, how even now, knowing what he was, I couldn't pull away. "I just want you," I whispered.

Roman already knew. He always did.

I couldn't think, couldn't breathe, could only take what he gave me. Deep, slow, dragging thrusts that had me clenching around him, struggling to hold back the cries of pleasure threatening to escape. His hand clamped over my mouth as he rocked into me harder, faster, the slap of skin against skin echoing through the restricted room of the library.

"God, you really are fucking mine, aren't you?" Roman's voice was thick with something twisted, sinisterly happy. His hand tightened over my mouth, keeping me quiet as he thrust deep, his cock dragging against every sensitive part of me. "You should be running from me... you should hate me."

A broken sound tore from my throat, muffled by his palm-- something told me he hated himself more than I could ever hate him.

"But instead--" His pace slowed, teasing me, fucking me so deep I could barely breathe. "You're letting a goddamn upir fuck you."

I shuddered violently, my nails raking down his back.

Roman's free hand trailed down my side, slow, possessive. Then he pressed his palm flat against my stomach, feeling himself inside me. "I'm not so dangerous right now, hm?" His voice was almost mocking. "Never was, never will be."

Maybe he had a point? Or maybe I was just too horny to function. Something must be wrong with my brain to risk my life for one more quick fuck.

Roman smirked against my skin, listening to the sound of my muffled moans against the palm of his hands. "You love me so much, you'll let me do whatever I want to you," He pulled out almost all the way, making me whimper, before snapping his cock back inside me, and I cried out against his hand. "You can't even help yourself, can you?"

I was falling apart. Why was he so spot on?

His hand loosened over my mouth just enough for me to gasp; "Roman--"

"Shh," he hushed me, his nose brushing against mine. "We have to be quiet, remember?" As if to mock me, he thrust harder, making me bite my lip to swallow my cry. "Wouldn't want to risk getting caught, would you?"

Tears pricked my eyes. "No," I breathed.

"Mmm," he hummed in approval, smug. "There you go, someone's learning... Good girl." Like a reward for my compliance, Roman propped himself up on his knees, guiding my legs over his thighs-- his hand slipped between us, thumb finding my clit, rubbing slow, lazy circles that contrasted the harsh pace of his thrusts.

I gasped, the pleasure building so fast it was unbearable. "Shit, shit--"

"Shh, I got you," he cooed, voice dripping with amusement. "Just let me take care of you, yeah?"

My body trembled, and my vision started going hazy as Roman continued circling my clit with the nicest of pressures, making my toes curl. It didn't matter that every moment felt stolen, like we had borrowed it from the universe and needed to give it back yesterday, nothing mattered-- only this.

I forced myself to breathe, to melt into the feel of him, and when I shifted my hips, taking him deeper, Roman let out the filthiest groan; "That's it," he purred, pulling back just enough to thrust forward again, pushing all the way in until I was full, stretched to the limit. "God, you feel so fucking good--"

I could only whimper, clenching around his cock; "Fuck, Ro-- Rome," My back arched off the floor as I tried my best to fight the incoming wave. How was I supposed to let this end, how was I supposed to let him go? I didn't want this to end, didn't want him to stop; "I don't-- I can't--"

"Yes, you can," Roman cooed, his thumb continuously rubbing steady circles around my clit. "Gonna come for me?"

All my words of protest became one mumble of sounds-- my hand shot down to grab his wrist in an attempt to stop him, yet it simply laid over his hand. I couldn't halt it, not when it felt this good, not when I knew this had to be the last time I felt his hands on me.

There was no way for me to delay it anymore, not when Roman's green eyes locked with mine. His smirk was razor-sharp, knowing, as if he could see every thought unraveling in my head. "That's it," he murmured, voice thick with satisfaction. "Let me feel how much you love this... how much you love me."

I whimpered, my whole body tightening, teetering on the edge. Roman's hand on my clit was relentless, coaxing me toward oblivion, and I couldn't hold back anymore when he said the cursed words of the day; "I love you... so, so much,"

My breath hitched, and then I shattered, pleasure crashing through me in waves so intense I thought I might break apart completely.

Roman groaned, his grip on my hips tightening as I clenched around him, dragging him with me. His thrusts turned erratic, desperate, until he buried himself to the hilt with a deep, shuddering gasp. His forehead dropped against mine, breath hot and ragged as he spilled inside me, his entire body trembling from the force of it.

For a moment, there was only silence, except for the sound of our heavy breathing. Roman's hand remained on my stomach, possessive, like he was holding the moment in place, refusing to let it slip away just yet.

... Fuck.

How had I let this happen? How could I have done this? Drained, my lips parted as I stared up at the ceiling with a dead look in my eyes. I was so, so deeply screwed-- for real.

Somehow, I found the strength to embrace Roman, feeling how warm he was against me. I wanted to kiss his cheek, say something sweet, tell him he did good as well, but I couldn't. I listened as he let out a slow sigh, hiding his face in the crook of my neck. His cock was still buried deep inside me, twitching as he pulsed with the aftershocks of his release, and I could feel it-- the way he was still savoring this, still revelling in the fact that he'd won.

Reality hit me all over, like a slap to the face. I had just let him do this. And on top of everything, that fucker came inside of me.

Panic clawed up my throat, and Roman felt the shift immediately. He pulled back slightly, eyes searching mine, his smirk already creeping back. "Running again?" His voice was softer now, but the smug amusement was impossible to miss.

"This was a mistake," I whispered.

Roman's smile flickered, just for a second. It was long enough for me to see the crack, the flash of something raw beneath it, but then it was gone, buried under something colder. "A mistake," he echoed, his tone flat. His fingers twitched against my stomach, pressing down slightly like he was reminding me, reminding both of us, that what we had just done was very real, very irreversible.

Then, he scoffed, shaking his head. "Right... Of course,"

Roman tilted his head, considering me. Then, with agonizing slowness, he pulled out, and I gasped at the loss, my entire body left throbbing and sore. He watched me, his eyes dark with satisfaction, as if he was committing to the sight of what he'd done to me, how I had trembled beneath him, completely ruined.

Then, with a wicked smirk, he brought his fingers to my core, pressing against the mess he'd left inside of me like he was trying to push it deeper-- I whimpered, grabbing at his hands to stop him, yet he wafted my hands away with precision.

"Messy, messy girl," he cooed, shaking his head, pretending to be disappointed. "You even let me cum inside..." His grin widened, sharp as a blade; "Think you'll ever be clean of me again?"

I shivered violently.

Never.

Roman exhaled, watching me with a look I couldn't place; it was somewhere between pride and something deeply possessive. He continued to slowly pump his fingers into me like he wanted me to feel just how deep he had gotten, how much of himself he had forced into me. "You're really gonna lie there, all fucked out and dripping with me, and say it was a mistake?" Roman let out a breathy laugh, but there was no humor in it. "That's cute."

I swallowed hard, but my throat was too tight to speak. I should've run when I had the chance. Now, I could only whimper, torn between shame and unbearable pleasure.

Roman's smirk was gone now. Whatever amusement he had left was fading fast, replaced by the hurt beneath the tough act. His jaw ticked, and for a moment, he just stared at me, his expression unreadable; "Say something," His fingers curled inside me, pushing, teasing, coaxing me back to the edge. He was trying to drown out my thoughts, make me forget.

Fuck. "This was a mistake," I echoed, speaking the truth brewing in my chest. "Wait, don't-- Wait--" My hands tried to reach for his once again, to get his fingers out of me, but to no avail.

Frustrated, Roman's free hand shot out, gripping my jaw-- not rough enough to bruise, but firm enough to hold me there, to force my eyes to his. It immediately made my heart jump with fright; his pupils were blown wide, his irises burning with frustration. "Are we really going back to me flirting with the cheerleaders and you staring from across the hall?" he hissed. "We can't. You can't. You love me."

My eyes welled with tears, and my hands gripped the arm Roman had on my jaw in protest. I could hear the hurt in his voice, hear the plea behind the tough words. However, when he curled his fingers inside me, fingering me with the mess he had left inside, my stomach twisted like a phone cord, tangled and knotted. "This was a mistake--"

"Stop," he snarled, voice low and sharp; "fucking saying that."

Roman's fingers curled inside me again, pressing against a spot that made me shudder despite the shame clawing at my chest. He was punishing me, making sure I felt everything, making sure I couldn't ignore the way my body betrayed me.

"No-- no," I whimpered, turning my face away, but Roman caught my chin, forcing my gaze back to him. His expression was unreadable now, somewhere between wanting to break me and needing me to stay whole. "You think you can just go back to pretending none of this happened?" His breath was warm against my lips, mocking me with its closeness. "That you can just walk away, run back to your sad little life of being obsessed with me, and pretend we don't belong together?"

My stomach twisted violently at the words, and my heart hammered against my ribs. "Please, no--" I whispered, but even I could hear how weak it sounded. I was too overstimulated, too broken. "I don't-- I don't have another one in me--"

"No, you do," he commanded. "You do, baby, you do."

No.

No, no, no.

A slow smirk tugged at his lips. "You can fight it all you want," he murmured, his voice dark with satisfaction. "But you forget how well I know you."

I shook my head-- or at least, I tried to. Roman's grip tightened, holding me in place, forcing me to meet his gaze. I clenched my jaw, fighting against the pleasure, fighting against him, but Roman's grip didn't ease. If anything, the weight of his hand on my jaw only grew heavier, more possessive, more suffocating. His fingers were still buried inside me, still stroking into me with a deliberate, cruel precision on the library floor, despite my pleas.

"You need me," he said, like it was a fact, like it was already written in stone. "And I need you, and we need to be together." His fingers pressed deeper, drawing another helpless whimper from my lips.

Despite my efforts to stop him, it was torturously good being filled over and over by Roman's fingers, the warmth of his cum still sending shivers up my spine. "I need time!" I cried, squirming at the edge of my impending orgasm. "I need to-- think!--"

"Think?"

"Decide!"

Roman's smirk widened. His fingers moved in slow, devastating strokes, teasing, coaxing, forcing my body closer and to the edge whether I wanted it or not. "You can't be without me," he murmured, pressing a soft kiss against my jaw. "You don't want to be without me. What is there to decide?"

"That's not!--" My voice broke as pleasure crashed through me, my back arching despite my best efforts. "Roman, please!"

Finally, he relented.

"Fine... fine,"

He had gotten what he wanted, after all.

For me to think it over, to give us another chance.

"You get a week," he challenged, his thumb pressing down on my clit in one slow, cruel motion as a reward for my cooperation.

My legs gave in to a tremble, and my body churned with pleasure and anger; I was beyond overstimulated. "You son of a-- manipulative piece of shit, motherfucker!--" I had no idea what came over me when I balled my fist and slammed it against his chest, losing control over my senses. "Fuck-- you, fuck, fuck!--"

Roman's hand on my chin tightened, pushing me down to the floor with harshness I hadn't seen in him before; I felt like a dog getting trained to not misbehave. "Take it," he hissed, pressing harder against my sweet spot, the sound of his fingers fucking his cum deeper into me filling the room along with my cries. "Take it." It got to the point where he let go of my chin and covered my mouth with his palm, drowning out my sobs of pleasure.

I tried to fight it, I really did-- but Roman's fingers worked me open, pushed me higher, until the tension snapped and I was falling, tumbling over the edge for the second time with a ragged, broken sob.

Roman watched me the whole time. He didn't let up, didn't stop until I was gasping, shaking, completely undone beneath him. Then, and only then, did his touch slow.

My orgasm had brought me to tears. Big, heavy tears. They burned in the corner of my eyes, and I wished for them to burn into his brain as well, until it hit me that Roman got off on this. I knew this. I knew he liked this. He had simply been nice with me up until now.

In silence, his hand left my jaw, sliding down to rest against my throat, his fingers brushing against my racing pulse. They lingered there, light but possessive, feeling the frantic rhythm of my heartbeat beneath his touch. Roman's breathing was uneven, his lips parting as if he wanted to say something, but the words never came. Instead, he just watched me, watched the way my body trembled, the way I gasped for air, the way my tears streaked down my heated skin.

Roman's thumb ghosted over skin, and this time, there was no cruelty in the motion, no smugness. Just something quiet. Something careful.

"Shh," he murmured, barely above a whisper. "You're okay."

I flinched at the softness in his voice, and at the way his other hand brushed a damp strand of hair from my forehead. It felt too much like comfort. Too much like care. And maybe it was... but it was also so twisted. Because it came from him. From the person who had just broken me apart and put me back together in the way he wanted.

Roman's touch trailed down my cheek, hesitant now, like he was treading carefully over thin ice. His fingers stroked away a stray tear, and for a moment, I thought I saw regret flicker in his eyes. Or maybe I was just desperate to see it?

"You don't have to cry," Roman murmured, like he didn't understand.

The words made something snap inside me.

My hand moved before I could think. A sharp crack echoed through the room as my palm struck his face, the impact snapping his head to the side.

Silence.

Roman didn't move. He didn't touch his cheek, didn't flinch, didn't even breathe for a moment. His jaw tightened, and his hands curled into fists at his sides, but he didn't strike back. He would never. Instead, he just sat there, staring at me, his expression unreadable.

My chest heaved, my whole body trembling, but I didn't look away. I couldn't look away.

We sat here like that-- neither of us speaking, neither of us moving, just locked in this unbearable, suffocating silence.

And then Roman licked his lips, slow and deliberate.

"Okay," he finally said, voice low and even. "Okay."

Now, he understood. Something told me he was even waiting for me to do it again.

But...

My chest heaved with my incoming breath, and I gave in to the sobs building in my body while I looked around to check where my clothes were. I wanted to get dressed. I felt too naked like this, too visible, too vulnerable.

Roman let out a slow breath, his tongue swiping over the corner of his mouth where my slap had landed. His cheek was flushed, the shape of my palm still burning against his skin, but he didn't move to retaliate. Instead, he shifted closer, his hand reaching out-- not forcefully, not possessively, but gently. Like he wanted to soothe me, like he hated that I was hurting.

"Baby--"

"No, you don't talk right now!" I snapped, jerking away before he could touch me. The cold air of the library hit my bare skin as I scrambled to sit up, my legs unsteady beneath me. My whole body ached from him, from everything, and I felt raw, exposed. I needed to get away.

Roman didn't try to stop me. He just watched as I grabbed my clothes, slipping them on with stiff, shaking hands. My movements were jerky, fuelled by the overwhelming storm in my chest. I let out a groan as I realized I had forfeited my underwear-- was his cum going to be dripping down the leg of my jeans all day?

"You got what you wanted," I spat, not looking at him. "I'll think about it. You win."

Roman swallowed hard as he pulled his pants up, fixing his belt. His throat bobbed, and his jaw clenched, but he didn't argue. "You wanted this too," he mumbled, almost like he was trying to convince himself. "... Right?"

I ignored him, pulling on my shirt and yanking it down over my thighs before shoving my feet back into my shoes. I just needed to get out of here, away from him, away from the heavy scent of him still clinging to my skin.

But before I could storm out, Roman called out my name; "I love you," he echoed. "And you love me. Think of it as simple as that."

I should have kept walking, I should have ignored him, but something in the way he said my name, so quiet, so desperate, made me freeze. "I didn't want to make you feel like this," he admitted, his voice rough, almost ashamed. "I just... I don't know how to be without you."

That was the problem. Neither of us did.

I turned halfway, my pulse hammering. If only that was simple. Roman's eyes were on me, dark and unreadable in the dim light of the library, but I could see it clear as day; the relief flickering beneath the guilt. Because despite everything, despite how fucked-up this was, I was still here. I hadn't run away. I hadn't told him to go to hell. And that meant there was still a chance, right?

I hated that. I hated that I was standing on the edge of something dangerous, something that could ruin me all over again, or even worse, get me killed.

But the worst part?

I wasn't sure if I wanted to step back or let myself fall.

"You might not have to be," I breathed, before reaching for the door.

I had a week.

I had until next Friday.

One week.

Roman Godfrey hated hanging up the phone after talking past midnight. Roman Godfrey loved comparing the size of his hands with mine.

Roman Godfrey hated being apart from me.

Roman Godfrey loved me.

Chapter 15: unclean

Summary:

Will you ever feel clean again? This has become too much-- how are you supposed to make a decision when the people in your life are pulling you in different directions? All you can do is try not to break.

Chapter Text

"Think you'll ever be clean again?"

Roman's words echoed in my mind over and over; I realized that my answer was no.

I felt dirty.

Dirty, unclean, and filthy, all the fucking time.

The hallway was loud today, but Letha walked beside me like she was floating through a quieter world, untouched by the noise, untouched by all filth. She always had that kind of ease, that effortless grace that made people part around her without her having to ask them to. Was Letha maybe the modern equivalent of Moses?

... That was an odd thought; certainly not one I wanted to think again.

Then again, it was either weird biblical references or thoughts about Roman. The weirder my thoughts were, the more they interfered with anything Roman-related that could bring forth a hefty blush to my cheeks, or a feeling of doom settling in my chest.

I was unclean.

And I felt like a dirty fucking whore.

I kept my head down, tugging my jacket higher over my shoulder, conscious of the way the collar barely covered the faint smudge of the hickey Roman had left on my neck from our time in the library. I did my best to conceal it this morning, but I was still terrified the blooming colors were shining through-- Letha hadn't noticed it yet, and I wanted to keep it that way. I had even tried to scrub the hickey off in the shower despite knowing it wouldn't work; I was getting desperate. I had cried, brought my hands over the marks over and over, like I was begging them to go away and disappear.

Marked.

Unclean.

Filthy.

Filthy fucking liar.

"So..." Letha started, brushing a strand of golden hair behind her ear as she smiled knowingly. Immediately, I sensed that this wasn't going to be good. "There's this guy... his name is Jack, and he told me to tell you that he's into you."

I blinked. "What?" Who?

"I also told him I'd ask if you were interested," She cast me a sideways glance, beaming at me like she was serving me the best news of the century. "I think you should be."

My stomach twisted. "Letha!--"

"Don't say no yet!" She looped her arm through mine, warm and insistent. "He's sweet. You need someone sweet!"

I didn't want someone sweet-- I wanted the devil reincarnate that haunted my every waking moment, also known as Roman Godfrey. "Jack... Wang?" I tried. "Which Jack are we talking about?"

Letha bit her lip to contain an excited giggle, squeezing my arm; "Jack Edwards!--"

"No!" The words slipped past my mouth before I could stop them. I cleared my throat, hoping to recover from my outburst. "Not him... He's one of Roman's friends. That's really fucked up."

Letha sighed; disappointment read all over her face. "You'd never have to actually like the guy," she pressed. "Just... entertain it for a little while. Give Roman a taste of his own medicine. Don't you think he deserves it, after keeping... that from you?"

She couldn't say the word out loud in the hallway-- upir.

Because that was the reason we were in this station in the first place, the fact that Roman was a upir.

The idea of making him taste his own medicine made my stomach twist, and not entirely from disgust. I hated the thought of stooping to his level, playing some shallow game... But the image flickered unbidden through my mind; Roman's dark eyes snapping toward me across the room, his smile dropping as I lean just a little too close to some other guy, making him watch me the way I had been forced to watch him too.

I squeezed my eyes shut, shaking away the thought. "It's childish,"

"He's been childish since the day you broke up! Why should you have to be the bigger person?"

If Letha knew the real truth of what Roman had actually done after we broke up, she'd have a heart attack. There was no way in hell I'd tell her about what happened in the library some days ago. My heart thudded unevenly in my chest; maybe I was being the bigger person because I wanted to be? Because I still loved him, even though I hated him for everything he had done to me, even though he had been a upir all along. Despite my attempts at staying calm and neutral, Roman's voice echoed in my head, images of him curling his fingers inside me with that evil smirk on his face flashing before my eyes; "Think you'll ever be clean of me again?"

Never.

Never.

Letha watched me disassociate and shudder, and her eyes gleamed like she already knew she had me hooked. "This will help you get over him, y'know? I only want what's best for you,"

I exhaled slowly through my nose, fingers curling into fists. It was a terrible idea-- reckless, messy, everything I wasn't supposed to want. But God, how I wanted him to hurt too, for all the lies, all the girls, and for the pathetic mess he had made of me in the library.

Maybe this would scrub me clean of the mess we'd made?

My silence was enough of an answer for Letha. Her smile turned smug as she leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms. "There ya go,"

I shot her a glare, but she only giggled under her breath; "It's perfect," she purred, voice teasing. "It'll drive him crazy!--"

"Shouldn't you maybe be a little more worried about your own life?" I snapped. "Why are you so obsessed with mine?"

It took me a second to realize what I had just said. My eyes widened at the same time as Letha's, and her hook around my arm lessened. Oddly enough, there was something satisfactory about seeing her like this-- I had no idea what came over me when I continued; "Instead of setting me up with more guys, why can't we talk about who you're fucking?"

"No one!" Letha huffed, retracting her arm. "What's come over you?!"

The more I watched her bewildered and offended expression, the more I wanted to dig my thumbs into her eyes and split her skull open; that way, I could maybe finally get to see what she was plotting in there. "Don't you have anyone running around you? You always do,"

"Not--" Letha cleared her throat, attempting to save face. "Not recently, no."

"Are you sure?"

"I-- Seriously, I don't get you!" Letha stopped walking in the middle of the hallway, staring back at me in disbelief. "I'm trying to be nice and keep you distracted, and this is how you repay me?"

I placed myself in front of her, folding my arms over my chest. "Why are you getting so defensive?" It felt like I had found an odd rope in the forest, and I was pulling at it with all my might-- I had struck gold, hadn't I?

Letha's lips parted, wanting to argue, but nothing came out. A shadow flickered over her face-- too quick, too subtle, but I caught it. There was something there. For a moment, I thought she might actually tell me. But then, just as quickly, she smoothed out her features, letting out a soft, breathy laugh like I'd said something ridiculous; "You're impossible," she muttered, shaking her head.

I cocked a brow. "I'm... impossible?"

"You're just lashing out because you don't want to admit I'm right," she teased, looping her arm back through mine like I hadn't just cornered her. "But I get it. It's scary, right? The idea of actually moving on?"

My pulse stuttered. I opened my mouth to push again, because I knew I was right, I could feel it-- but Letha was already moving, already steering the conversation back onto safer ground.

She gave me time to let her words sink in, studying my face with that keen, knowing gaze, like she was waiting for me to break.

"Letha--"

"I just want you to be happy," Letha murmured, reaching forward to put her hand on my shoulder with an earnest touch. "And I know you won't be if you keep waiting for Roman to change."

If only she knew I wasn't waiting for him to change-- I was waiting for the end of the week, when I hoped my answer would come stumbling into my mind with no effort at all. However, it was such a clean, practiced shift in her tone, that for a second, I doubted myself; had I really imagined that flicker of something in her eyes? Was I reading too much into this?

Letha wasn't the enemy here.

She was my friend.

... Right?

"I have to go," she eventually said, giving me a final squeeze before slipping away. "But think about it, okay? Being seen with a friend of Roman would fry his crazy nympho brain." Letha didn't wait for a response-- Letha Godfrey never waited for anyone. She was already blending back into the flow of students, graceful as ever, like she hadn't just left a rock lodged in my throat.

I let out a sharp exhale before I turned back to find my locker, shaken up by the conversation. This was nuts-- was I supposed to let one of Roman's friends flirt with me? Why was he even interested in me? Roman didn't have that many friends in the first place anyway, so I knew this was risky.

With shaky fingers, I worked the combination of my locker, still rattled from the conversation--

Until my body froze.

There was torn page splayed on top of my unorganized heap of books. Someone had snuck it in between the cracks of my locker.

I pulled it out slowly, staring down at the words, ink sinking into the delicate paper; it was a passage from The Picture of Dorian Gray.

You have killed my love. You used to stir my imagination. Now you don't even stir my curiosity. You simply produce no effect. I loved you because you were marvellous, because you had genius and intellect, because you realized the dreams of great poets and gave great substance to the shadows of art. You have thrown it all away. You are shallow and stupid.

What...

... The actual fuck?

I held back a gasp of shock and disgust, fighting the urge to crumple up the page and throw it to the floor to stomp it. It was clear as day that Roman had left me this-- who else would assume this was a good thing to leave the girl you're begging to take you back?

Was he trying to prove a point?

Was he trying to tell me that I was shallow and stupid for thinking about throwing everything between us away?

With an angry huff, I stuffed the page into my back pocket-- I was definitely going to burn it when I got home.

... Maybe then, I'd feel clean?

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

I had been angry before, yes; but nothing could beat the tsunami of rage ravaging through me after seeing that stupid passage.

I sat on the bleachers during lunch the next day, tucked into one of the higher rows, the sun casting sharp shadows along the field below-- I angrily picked at the edge of my water bottle label, trying to drown out the chatter of the students scattered around the stands. Letha sat beside me, legs crossed, her chin delicately propped on one hand; "Don't look now," she murmured, voice soft and secretive. "But... I think your admirer is on his way."

My head snapped up to look at her before I could stop myself. "There's no fucking way," I hissed under my breath. "He's here? Now?"

Letha's grin flickered, bright with amusement. My stomach turned as I followed her gaze-- and sure enough, there he was. Jack Edwards, one of the jocks from Roman's cocky friend group. He strolled across the field with some guys I recognized from before, hands stuffed into his pockets, cutting through the groups of lingering students like he owned the place.

My pulse quickened. Panic rose in my chest as I glared at Letha; "You didn't,"

"I might've... suggested you needed some cheering up today," Her eyes sparkled, wicked and bright. "He was more than happy to oblige!"

"Cheering up?! Letha, I didn't agree to this!" With a groan, I buried my face in my hands, hoping the ground would open and swallow me whole. I didn't want anyone but Roman anyway-- fucking hell, I should've been more clear with Letha.

On the other hand, she looked proud as ever; "I'm the best, aren't I?"

Heat flooded my face. I gripped the edge of the bleacher so tightly my knuckles ached. "Letha, I'm two seconds away from lobotomizing myself with my fucking water bottle because of you!"

"Oh, come on," she whispered, leaning in close. "It's just a little harmless fun! You need some distractions, we talked about this!"

But there was nothing harmless about the way Jack's eyes locked onto mine as he climbed the steps.

Unclean.

Filthy.

I felt dirty-- I shouldn't be indulging in this.

Trapped, pinned beneath Letha's gaze, I tried to contain my panic; "Why the fuck is he even into me? He's, like, very close to Roman, no?"

"Well..." Letha cleared her throat, shooting Jack a sweet smile as she waved him over to us. This would've been the perfect time to catapult myself out of my seat and up into the sun's orbit. "Men are primitive, y'know? If they think they can get laid, they don't really care how or with whom."

"Ew, Letha!" I was sick to my stomach just imagining that I'd sleep with anyone that wasn't Roman.

"Relax," she cooed, brushing her fingers lightly against my arm. "It's only a game! You don't have to do anything but lead him on a bit."

I couldn't breathe.

And then Jack approached-- standing just below our row, flashing a grin that made my stomach flip. "Hey, girls," he murmured. "Need some company?"

I wished the ground would swallow me whole. Before I could even muster up a half-hearted response, Letha was already smoothing down her skirt and rising to her feet. "You bet! I'll leave you two to it," she said sweetly, flashing me a look that was both knowing and victorious before slipping down the steps like she had just orchestrated the most harmless, innocent thing in the world.

But it wasn't harmless, not when my stomach was twisting itself into knots, and definitely not innocent.

And then, like a twist of fate, I felt a shiver run up my spine— I knew that feeling like I knew my own breath. There was a tingling sensation at the front of my brain, sending repeated signals to turn my head.

... Oh no.

I knew who could be doing this to me.

With a pit in my stomach, I turned my head slightly, pulse pounding in my ears, and sure enough, there he was.

Roman appeared at the far end of the field with the rest of his friends, just beyond the fences, half in the shadows of the trees. The upper button of his shirt was unbuttoned, his hands shoved deep in his pockets, but his posture was rigid, unreadable.

Except I could read him.

The tight set of his jaw, the slight flare of his nostrils, the way his head tipped, just barely, like he was daring me to keep looking at him.

I opened my mouth (whether to call out to Roman or to breathe, I wasn't sure), but before I could do either, Jack's voice pulled me back; "So," he drawled, taking the empty space beside me. "What's a pretty thing like you doing all the way up here, huh?"

I barely heard him. My eyes flickered back to Roman instinctively, but--

He was already gone.

A cold wave of panic crashed over me. I sat up straighter, scanning the field, searching, aching--but there was nothing. No sign of him, like he had never been there at all.

Except he had been, and he had seen everything. He had seen Jack sitting down next to me, he had seen the hungry look in his eyes; I had an inkling that this was going to bite me in the ass. I had screwed over my one-week truce with Roman, all because of Letha's convincing. Swallowing the thick rock in my throat, my mind raced with everything unsaid, everything unfixable. What had I done?

I turned to Jack, not bothering to sweeten my tone; "Let's cut the bullshit, yeah? What are you doing here?"

Blinking, he let out a shocked laugh. He fixed his hair in an oddly familiar manner (it wouldn't surprise me if he had picked it up from Roman) before he recovered. "I've been... trying to get your number for a while. Before Roman got to you, actually,"

... What?

I felt my face soften. "Oh,"

Jack chuckled, shaking his head as he darted his gaze to the field in front of us. "Godfrey called dibs out of nowhere," he explained. "And if we are to follow bro-code, I had to pull away."

"This isn't very bro-code friendly, though?" It was true-- I had seen Jack hanging out with Roman recently, so they couldn't have had a falling out. "Roman could rip your throat out for this."

He could. He genuinely could.

I held back a shudder as I watched Jack, and the way the sun reflected off his pitch black hair. Eventually, he spoke; "Roman's been preoccupied with other girls as of late, so I figured I'd shoot my shot," He was smiling at me now, so smug, so sure of himself-- it was almost charming. "I mean, I had to see if the rumours were true."

I blinked at him, barely processing. "What rumors?"

Jack only grinned wider; "That you're finally over Godfrey,"

My stomach dropped.

Over him? Over Roman?

The laugh that almost escaped my throat was so bitter I had to bite down on my lip to keep it in. I had spent every second of every day thinking about him, hurting over him, wanting him. There was no version of my life where I just moved on.

I should have shut Jack down immediately. I should have told him to go find some other girl to bother, that I wasn't interested, that Letha had put him up to this for her own amusement-- but instead, I just stared at him, hollowed out, my hands tightening around the hem of my skirt as my mind spiralled.

Had Roman lied to me? Was he actually preoccupied with other girls? Was he maybe so desperate to keep me around because I'd be an easy lay? Maybe he was scared I'd tell his secret to people if he didn't keep me close?

I felt my breath constrict in my chest; "He's sleeping with the cheerleaders, isn't he?"

Jack blinked. "Roman?"

"Is he?" Please, please, no. If he had lied to me about this, I would die on the spot.

Something in Jack's charming eyes changed, but I didn't need Sherlock Holmes to decode that look for me-- they softened with the realization that I would probably never be over Roman. I would always be Roman's girl, just like every other girl at this school that had ever been involved with him. Therefore, I watched as Jack sighed, shaking his head; "Nope. I would've heard the details by now, if so,"

I instantly felt my heart fall into its right place. "Thank you," I whispered.

Jack sank back into his seat, looking back at the field in front of us while he nodded to himself. I peeked the small smile; was he maybe relieved to get a proper answer? "Sorry to bother you, then," There was a certain ease about him that made me feel beyond comfortable-- he wasn't snappy about this becoming a failed attempt (unlike how a certain other blonde asshole would react), but he was simply accepting of the facts before him. In another universe, I would've probably gone for someone like Jack, someone confident, someone quietly strong.

I had no idea what came over me when I suddenly found myself smiling too; "You didn't bother me. It's kinda nice to talk to someone that isn't Letha,"

Jack glanced at me with a flirty chuckle. "She's a bit intense, right?"

"A bit, yeah,"

"I think she gets it from that Rumancek dude," Jack continued, shrugging matter-of-factly. "They're always hanging out, the both of them. Did you know that the guy once threatened to gut me for being a bad group partner during a lab project? Funny man... I don't get what she sees in him, but I guess the weirdos gotta find love somewhere too, right?"

... Wait.

What?

I straightened up in my seat. "Peter?"

Jack's eyes widened with intrigue-- "Why do I sense this is news to you?"

"They're not together like that," I huffed. "That'd be nuts. If Peter and Letha were sleeping together, Roman would have a field day chewing them out to the bone."

"Okay..." With a cocky laugh, Jack shrugged again; "I might've misinterpreted it, then. They hang out a lot behind school, that's all I've seen... looking all gooey and shit."

I had to put a stop to this rumor before it got to Roman. Knowing him, he'd jump to conclusions, and Letha could really, really suffer; "No, no... Even if they talk, then it's nothing like that,"

"Alright," Jack snorted. "Don't come running to me when you see that I'm right, though."

The sun, now dipping lower, cast long shadows across the field. It felt like the calm before a storm, and my ease began to settle into a rhythm. I was about to say something, maybe even something nice, but then, I heard it; the unmistakable sound of heavy footsteps approaching. The air instantly grew colder, and I turned my head, dread pooling in my chest. My eyes locked on him-- Roman.

His presence was like a sudden freeze, like he was the shift in the atmosphere. He moved with a quiet intensity that made the world seem to shrink around him; I wanted to shrink into nothing as well, sucked into a black hole where I could hide.

Before I could process it, Jack spoke again, his tone lowered, almost conspiratorial. "I don't know what it is about you two," he muttered under his breath, just loud enough for me to hear. "But you both always act like you're untouchable... and with him hanging around, I suppose you'll always be."

When Roman eventually reached us, he was completely still, frozen in a way I had never seen before. His jaw clenched, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly as they passed over me, barely acknowledging my presence. I felt my pulse quicken, my breath catching in my throat. There was something about his stoic expression that made my stomach flip, and it made me feel like I was about to be disciplined for acting out, just like the old days in elementary school.

It was as if Roman couldn't quite let go of the distance between us, eyes flickering back and forth for a good second or two. Then, his gaze darted to Jack with unnatural speed-- upir, upir, upir. "Seriously?" Roman said, snapping his fingers at him as his condescending tone fuelled my anxiety. "You've really got nothing better to do than this?"

Jack froze for a split second, and I could almost hear the gears turning in his head, trying to process the shift in Roman's tone. His voice hadn't risen; it was the kind of tone that made it clear he wasn't in the mood for games, but it wasn't outright threatening-- just... annoyed.

However, to my surprise, Jack shot a grin. "Well, well, if it isn't the big bad Godfrey! Finally decided to join us, huh?"

Roman didn't seem amused at all by his antics-- quite the contrary. "She's not your problem, dude,"

Jack shrugged, undeterred, but his words were sharper than before; "She's not your property either, Roman,"

I held my breath. I really, really didn't want to be here. Little by little, I started sliding down my seat. Maybe if I hit the ground, I could slither away?

But the confrontation wasn't over-- Jack's grin became little more pointed with every second. "You sure you're not just holding onto her out of habit, man? You seemed pretty done before, when you were talking to Jessica,"

That name made me want to barf right down on Roman's shoes, and for my vomit to burn through the leather of his shoes. Jessica, the same girl that had tried to flirt with him at a party a while ago-- Jessica, the same girl he had threatened with his lighter, saying he'd burn her extensions off if she didn't shut up about me. Was he really that mad at me? Was he so mad that he was actually talking to a girl he despised just to get revenge for the heartbreak I had caused him?

Roman's jaw tightened, but he didn't immediately respond-- I knew this was the Godfrey look of mortification. It was clear that he didn't want me to know that he had talked to Jessica at all.

To make matters worse, Jack sensed this and kept pushing. He pointed between Roman and I, biting down on the look of glee spreading through his face. "I mean... you two aren't even together anymore, right? So why do you care if I'm talking to her?"

I could see that he was getting to Roman. A part of me wanted to grab Jack, shake him, and warn him that he was going up against the most dangerous carnivore on the planet, a upir, yet... another part of me wanted to see if Roman would actually snap. After his illustrative show of his control in the library last week, I wondered how this would apply in real life the second time around.

Roman's chest tightened for a split second, and for just a moment, I was sure he'd flip, I was sure he'd just lunge at Jack to get it over with.

But alas--

"We might not be together anymore, but we still fuck,"

... No.

Oh God, no.

There was a beat of silence.

My heart sunk in my chest, and I felt the blood drain from my face. It wasn't just the words-- it was the coldness in his voice, like he was speaking in a way that made it clear that pursuing me wasn't something Jack should even be thinking about.

On the other hand, Jack's grin faltered as his gaze flickered between Roman and I. I wondered whether he imagined when we had managed to have sex, where we had done it, what the timeline was-- that must've been a mortifying thought to think. I was certainly not jealous of him. Still, he opened his mouth to say something, anything, to salvage his pride.

But Roman cut him to it; "Maybe you should ask your little friend here what depths of desperation one must sink down into to get fucked on a library floor?"

I felt like the air had been sucked out of me, and it got to a point where I started pondering whether to get up and push my stupidly pretty ex-boyfriend down the bleachers. Then, my next thought was that it probably wouldn't hurt him at all. I hadn't expected to, but I missed thinking about other things, like whether Letha actually was the modern-day Moses or not. And Jack... poor Jack's face went pale.

Roman's eyes never left him, and I spotted the evil shimmer in his eyes, the look of complete and utter evil glee. Beyond happy with himself, he let out a huff of pride before he stuffed his hands into his pockets-- "Get lost, dude," he said, his tone final, deadly. "This one's mine."

Jack didn't say another word. He was quick to get up, muttering something under his breath that was unmistakable; "Freaks,"

I sat frozen to my seat, my heart still racing, trying to process what had just happened as I watched him leave, huffing as he disappeared down the bleachers. It felt like someone had just poured a bucket of cold water on me, and now I was left to shiver and shudder.

Eventually, Roman turned to me with that same evil smirk I secretly loved; "You should stop talking to guys like that," he cooed, his tone soft with false concern. "You know they can't keep up, baby. Shoot a little higher, if you want to get over me so bad."

If I could kick the bleacher seat away from me when I shot up, I would. Stepping closer, I buried my pointer in Roman's chest; "Fuck off," I hissed. "You don't get to do this!--"

"No, I do," In an instant, his smirk was wiped off his face, and it revealed the bitter glimmer in his eyes as he grabbed my hand, urging me to get my fingers off of him. "We decided on a week's worth of peace, did you forget?"

Angered, I yanked my arm away from Roman with a groan. "You decided that! You cornered me with your fucking fingers inside me! How the fuck do you expect me to think clearly in that state?! On top of that, now you've managed to tell Jack we fucked, so congratulations! Letha will probably find out in an hour or two, and you've screwed me over again!"

Getting all of that in his face didn't seem easy-- Roman broke eye contact, letting his gaze fall down to his newly polished shoes. "Jack won't say anything," he mumbled. "And if anything, you simply deny it. I won't tell Letha anything if she asks me."

It took me a minute to really feel the weight of what he was saying. At the start of my whole journey with Roman, he was dying to tell Letha everything, and he would do anything for an opportunity to rat me out and get me in trouble-- but now, he was protecting me. From now on, I was sure he'd always want to do that. This snapped me out of my anger, and I retorted to a simple nod; "You owe me, by the way,"

Roman's eyes peeked up, his eyebrows raising-- "That's my line,"

I struggled to bite down on the smile that immediately threatened to crack across my lips. This was highly ironic. "Stop it," I whispered, carefully nudging him. "You owe me forty-nine ninety-nine."

Roman's cheeks seemed to warm from my touch. "What for?"

"The, uh..." I swallowed hard. "The plan B."

It took him a few seconds to figure out what I had needed that for. Had he forgotten that he had come inside of me? Seemingly not; "Oh," Roman's hand shot to his pocket again, finding his wallet. "You took care of it?"

That line annoyed me to the point where the following words simply slipped past my mind-- "Of course I did! You're crazy if you think I'd have babies with you,"

Roman's hands froze as he reached for the dollar bills in his wallet. It wasn't for many seconds, and I would've missed it had I not been watching his every move. I felt like I had punched myself in the gut, and now I wondered whether he felt that way about it too. In silence, he gave me fifty dollars, not looking me in the eyes anymore.

"Don't look so sad," I breathed, feeling my heart clench. "Roman, I--"

"I would've been happy," His jaw tightened, and he shoved the bills into my hand with more force than necessary, like he couldn't stand to have them in his grasp a second longer. "If it were with you... I would've been happy."

Roman didn't wait for a reply-- he didn't dare to. Turning on his heel, he stormed off down the bleachers, the sound of his boots echoing in the empty space.

The fifty dollars burned in my hand. It felt like they were about to turn my flesh into burning lava, making a hole in my palms. I let Roman walk away, I let him leave; what else was I to do when I was this shell-shocked?

I crumpled the dollars into my pocket, sniffling.

When had the most beautiful relationship in my life managed to become... this?

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

There comes a point when you have nothing more to say. There comes a point when it doesn't feel worth it anymore, when the pain becomes too much to bear, and your body materializes it-- most days, I could feel the sorrow like a ball in my hands, vibrating, ablaze in a cloud of fire, burning my fingers before slipping through them.

Being without Roman felt like waking up in a dead man's bedroom. Empty. It used to be a place filled with life, with love, yet now it was abandoned, destitute. I used to be a person filled with life, with love, yet now I was alone, rotting.

I had done it all to myself. This was my own doing, and I had done it while wielding the sharpest of swords, forged just to fight the scariest of beings--

But Roman wasn't scary?

He wasn't even a full upir, something Letha had failed to mention.

If I closed my eyes, I could still see him kneeling before me, clutching onto my body as he sobbed into the fabric of my shirt. Pleading, crying, begging, begging, begging. The broken look in his eyes, the way his fingers trembled against me, holding me like he was breathing his last dying breath and wasting it on me.

In my mind, when I visited the memory, I'd sink down to the floor with him. I'd bury my fingers in his hair and let him cry into the crook of my shoulder. I'd caress him, hold him, tell him everything was going to be alright, and that I loved him like I had loved no one else.

Roman Godfrey used to be scary. Now, he was just a boy.

Wailing for comfort.

Begging for forgiveness.

Pleading for another chance to get back the life he had once led, the one I had so cruelly ripped from his trembling arms.

I couldn't breathe. Maybe it was the fact that I didn't want to? Maybe if I stopped breathing for long enough, I'd no longer have to feel the pain of being conscious? I could die of my own volition, on my terms, in my own time.

Yet then I'd...

I'd leave him.

Roman would be alone.

He'd continue walking this earth with no one by his side. He'd wander through centuries alone, he'd eat alone, he'd cry alone, he'd live alone, he'd be alone.

So I whispered; "I don't want you to be alone,"

I adjusted my phone where it lay on my pillow, making sure he'd be able to hear me when he got this voice message. "I don't want you to be alone... All those years, when everyone you know is dead. That was the most heartbreaking thing about all of this, Roman, that I found out that you're destined to live forever if... if you kill yourself..."

My lower lip quivered as I shifted in my bed, rubbing my tears into my skin. I shouldn't have bothered-- I had already drenched the pillow.

"So, whatever I end up choosing, Roman, you need to live,"

Please.

Please.

"You need to go on, and you need to stay strong... and make your heart steel if you must. Do whatever you need to do, just-- just don't do what would need to be done for you to... to be a full upir. Don't ever think about it. Don't even consider it. Could you promise me that?"

I blinked away my tears, rubbing my forehead in a circle with my pointer to hopefully alleviate the pain.

Nothing ever did.

Nothing ever would.

"You said I'd never be clean of you," I whispered. "But you're not something I need to wash off my skin, Roman."

Sniffling, I shifted-- I wondered whether he'd be able to hear the shuffling of my bedsheets. "I just want you to be happy. I really, really want you to be happy. So, if we don't end up together... think of me once in a while?"

I hoped he would.

I so desperately hoped he would. "... Please?" And with that, I broke. Letting into a loud hiccup of a sob, I hung up on Roman's voicemail. In the bleak dark of the night, I caught the time; 02:04.

And at 02:27, I got a twenty-three minute long voice message back.

I pressed play over and over;

"I love you,"

A whisper. Barely there.

"I love you, I love you, I love you,"

Again and again, soft, rhythmic, almost like a prayer. Like if he just said it enough times, it would make things right. It was the only thing he could say.

My thumb hovered over his name, over that tiny glowing green button. Roman was awake. I knew he was. Somewhere out there, he was awake with his phone still in his hands, maybe just waiting... maybe just hoping?

I choked my sobs against my pillows, my whole body trembling beneath the weight of the crushing heartbreak-- it didn't matter. None of it mattered, because I couldn't call him.

So I played it again.

And again.

And then I saved it twice; once on my phone, and once on my USB the next morning, just in case I ever forgot how it felt to be loved like that.

"I love you... I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you,"

Roman loved me...

But would that be enough to save us?

At least I had until Friday to figure it out-- at Jasmine's party.

Chapter 16: hurt people hurt people

Summary:

This night would turn out to be the worst of your life-- of our lives. I hope you don't mind that I'm talking to you directly this time?

Notes:

this is absolutely insane to me... I cannot believe I've FINISHED WRITING A BOOK?? thank you all SO so so much for being a part of this wild ride and for supporting my work, I couldn't have gotten here without all the love and all the comments, I couldn't have gotten this far without you all; therefore, I'm so so excited to give you the ultimate gift-- the last chapter of seven minutes in heaven!! ENJOY!!<333
tw!: some light gore

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

... Alright.

We've gotten this far. It's Friday, and I need to give Roman an answer, so I'll be quick; after all the shit that has gone down these past months, after everything I've brought you along with me for, I only have one question for you...

Have you understood it yet?

Have you really?

I could sit on Jasmine's front porch for hours and tell you the story of Roman Godfrey over and over, but nothing would ever change. You'd still love him, you'd still ache for him, just as I've done since the moment I saw him. We're in the same boat, after all-- you and I.

Oh, and speaking of Jasmine; her party was the best I had attended in years. Catch the irony? The bass from the music inside thudded through the floor of the porch, vibrating up through my shoes, through my bones, syncing with the frantic rhythm of my heart, and I was therefore glad to be outside now; the ceilings had felt too low, the walls too close, and the crowd swelled like a living, breathing thing-- loud, erratic, suffocating. I couldn't think. I couldn't breathe.

But out on the porch, right now, I could. Even when I thought about the fact that one week had passed, that I was supposed to have an answer for Roman regarding whether we could get together again or not, I could at least breathe.

I let out a sharp laugh for no one but myself, clutching the bottle of rosé I had managed to steal from my parents' cupboard. It was almost empty now, which was a first for me; I wasn't the biggest drinker, initially. Or was I? I couldn't make up my mind.

Being drunk, alone, and vulnerable at a party wasn't the smartest thing I could be doing, I know. As if she would magically appear, I swayed a little where I sat on the porch step glancing around for Letha-- I remember her smiling at me when we walked in together, but... wait, had she actually? Maybe she hadn't? Maybe that was someone else? Or maybe I just wanted her to smile, so I made it up? You'd believe me, wouldn't you? You'd have no choice but to.

You have no choice but to see what's gonna unfold tonight through my eyes, actually. And maybe I'm finally talking directly to you because I can't deal with it all alone?

... Don't click away just yet, please.

Stay, just a little longer.

Yes, you.

I made sure to drink the last few drops left of my rosé before saying bye to the quietness of Jasmine's front porch. My steps were heavy as I dragged my feet back into the house, yet the soundwave that hit me when I opened the door nearly knocked me to the ground nonetheless-- it didn't take long before my head started pounding to the beat of the music again.

All I knew, was that I needed to look busy. I needed to not stay too long in one place, just in case I'd run into people I didn't want to run into; I was still a bit scarred from my hellish prom-night, where I hadn't managed to get away from Daniel when he dragged me down the hall. However, he wasn't here tonight, so my biggest evasions were Letha and Roman. Sometimes, you just have to be drunk and miserable in peace, no?

Instinctively, I toyed with the vial of Roman's blood around my neck for comfort, letting the chain slip through my fingers; I had missed the weight of it. Missed the feeling of having him so close to my heart. I twisted it in the light-- red, gleaming, sharp. It had felt right to wear it tonight, and I thought it would serve as a comfort (and it did), but at the end of it all, I was still at a party I didn't want to be at.

The music was too loud. The lights were too bright. Everything moved too fast, or maybe too slow?-- I couldn't tell. I wasn't even sure of anything anymore, except that this place smelled like beer and sweat and smoke, and I put away my rosé on a nearby table and switched it with an unopened cider a bit further away. As long as no one caught me stealing, I could get away with it, right? Now that I was at it, I also grabbed the jacket closest to me hanging on the rack in the hallway, wrapping it around me despite it not being mine-- the weight of it nearly made it stumble, yet I persisted.

The cider was cold in my hand, and shockingly so. Nonetheless, I slipped it into the pocket of my jacket as I choked back a drunk hiccup-- it was only when a couple stumbled past me, bumping into me rather harshly, that I realized I had to get away from the main event of the party, which was downstairs.

I felt so dead. So, so dead. My body was simply dead weight-- dead, dead, dead. Broken. I couldn't handle this feeling, so I climbed the stairs, clutching the banister like it was the only thing anchoring me to this earth. My legs felt heavy, but my brain felt heavier, and every step echoed through my skull. Thud. Thud. Thud. I stopped halfway up because-- I don't know? I forgot why I was going up in the first place. There was an empty spot at the top of the stairs, a place where the purple lights didn't reach, where the music was muffled, where I could pretend for a second that I wasn't completely falling apart. So I slumped down, pulling the jacket tighter around me as if it could protect me from the cold that had nothing to do with the air.

And that's when I felt it-- the pack of cigarettes in the pocket.

Not mine.

Roman's.

It took me a good few seconds before I realized I had picked his jacket out of all the people that had put them away on the rack, and I could only groan. Suppressing another hiccup, my fingers brushed against the familiar cardboard, the worn edges, and the faint scent of cinnamon that clung to the paper. With some further rummaging in the pockets, I found his blood-red lighter, yet the back of it felt rougher than before; I had held it out for him several times, you see.

I flipped it, holding my breath--

Only to realize that Roman had carved our initials into the back of it.

After all the times he had made fun of me for doing that exact thing to a tree a while back, I could only huff at the irony as some people stepped over my body to get up the stairs. The thumping of my head only worsened, because honestly? In this state? It felt like an invitation. Roman could've literally carved I-know-you-stole-my-jacket-so-take-a-smoke-you-pretty-little-fucker, and it would've been the same thing. Or did the carvings make it more private? Should I maybe not be touching this at all?

... Fuck it.

I took one out, hands trembling like a damn idiot, and lit it. The flame flickered, tiny and fragile, and I stared at it like I was seeing fire for the first time.

Then, I inhaled--

And holy fucking shit, you wouldn't believe how awful it was. Sharp and spicy and bitter, and it clawed at my throat like it wanted to kill me. Maybe that's what Roman secretly wanted? To kill me with these fucking cigarettes? I coughed, choking on the smoke, but I didn't stop. I took another drag, then another, until my head was spinning and my chest felt tight, and I didn't care. I wanted to feel it-- the pain of it all. I wanted it to be physical, wanted it to kill me. I wanted it to set my lungs ablaze, and I wanted it to burn me up from the inside with slow and tortuous flames.

Pained, I sat there, legs pulled up against my chest, with the cigarette between my fingers like it belonged there, and I let the smoke sting my eyes, sting my lungs. Over and over, I told myself it was just the smoke that made me want to cry... nothing else.

And then, of course, of fucking course, I saw him.

Appearing into the hallway with a careless laugh, I watched Roman through the banister of the stairs, standing there like some kind of vision, like the universe just wanted to punish me for giving in to a sinful cigarette. He hadn't seen me-- not yet. But I couldn't take my eyes off him, couldn't stop the way my heart leapt and sank all at once. He looked beautiful. Terrible. The kind of beauty that ruins you. Dark hair, unruly shirt, his eyes flickering with something I couldn't read from across the room; and then I saw who he was with.

Jessica was there, breathlessly clinging to Roman. My Roman. It was clear that she revelled in the arm he had lazily draped over her shoulders, and she giggled as her hand clutched at his shirt like he was the best thing that had ever happened to her, like she was blessed to be getting even a sliver of his attention.

But Roman wasn't looking at her, not really.

No-- he was scanning the room like he was waiting for something, someone.

And when his eyes found mine, everything stilled. The music, the voices, the haze of smoke and bodies; all of it faded when our eyes locked.

I froze on the stairs, the cigarette hanging between my fingers-- I inhaled, slow and deep, trying not to fall apart, and exhaled like it could push him out of my system as I refused to look away.

But Roman didn't move. Not yet.

It was subtle-- the way his mouth curved, not quite a smile, not quite a sneer. For a second, I thought he was proud to see me smoking, finally, until the glint in his eyes turned sharp, predatory. He glanced at Jessica like he had forgotten she was there, and in that split second, I knew.

And you know what's gonna happen now, too, don't you?

Roman shifted, turning toward her, and his hand came up-- fingertips tracing her jaw, slow, almost lazy, just like he used to touch me. Jessica leaned in, her eyes fluttering closed, hungry for him, oblivious to who, what, she was keening against.

And then he kissed her, right there, right in front of me.

Deeply. Lovingly.

Roman's plush lips moved against hers, his hand tangled in her hair, and the sight of it was absolutely brutal-- it was the kind of kiss meant to calm someone, to soothe them, to show them you love them, and it was exactly how he used to kiss me. The sight of it nearly made me throw myself down the stairs, my body aching with the pain and betrayal of it all, but the kiss wasn't about her; it would never be about her.

Because the whole time, Roman's eyes stayed locked on me.

I couldn't look away, not when he commanded my attention in this way. He kissed her like he was punishing me, like this was the type of psychological warfare-discipline I needed to properly understand that I wanted him just as much as he wanted me. And all I could do was sit there like the pathetic fucking loser I was, the cigarette burning down to the filter, smoke stinging my eyes, my throat, my heart. I felt myself grab at the vial of his blood tucked away under my shirt; I couldn't look away, but I couldn't stand to watch it, because I wasn't just watching him destroy me-- I was letting him.

When Roman finally pulled back (after a millennia passed, surely), Jessica looked dazed, like she'd just realized she was the luckiest girl in the world, her lips swollen and red. But Roman didn't even glance at her-- his thumb brushed his own bottom lip, that wicked smirk carved into his face, and he stared at me like he knew exactly what he had done.

He wanted me broken-- broken enough to come running right back.

But I wasn't going to break this quickly.

It took everything that I had in me to get up, yet I somehow managed. With a shaky breath, and with my heart actively falling apart, I slid up along the wall for support, hoping I wouldn't fall right down the stairs-- I wasn't exactly making it easier for myself, because I was simultaneously throwing away my used cigarette and lighting a new one.

Wrapping myself further up in Roman's jacket, I let the cigarette hang loosely from my lip as I hoisted my arm up to raise my middle finger at him.

Roman chuckled, clearly having expected it, before responding with draping his arms around Jessica, cupping her face as she continued talking up at him, oblivious that he was having a stare-off with me. Roman dragged his fingers through her golden locks like he loved her above anyone else in the world, urging me to come down and fight for his attention, for him, for us--

But God, he was insufferable. I could see it all the way from here; he was mouthing come on.

Come here.

I know you want to.

... And I really wanted to, believe me.

But instead, I snorted, rolled my eyes, and shook my head-- and this turned out to be one of the worst ideas of the night. Shaking my head in this state, full of nicotine and rosé, was certainly not one of my brightest moments. With quick steps, I turned around on my heel and marched up the stairs, away from Roman and his fucked up antics as the back of my throat filled with acid. I couldn't throw up on the stairs, now, could I?

The first bathroom I found ended up being occupied, hence why I stormed into the kitchen on the second floor-- how massive was this house? I had never seen a kitchen on any floor but the first. In retaliation of what Jasmine had done to me earlier this year, I stumped my new cigarette on the wall and dragged it along the tapestry, wasting it. My thoughts were racing with how infuriating Jasmine's stupid house was, and how pissed she'd be when she saw how I had trashed her wall, but I pushed my way to the sink, hunching over it just in case I was about to barf up my whole left lung.

The kitchen was loud, hot, too hot, and filled with the thump of the party music bleeding in from the living room. It pounded through the walls, muffled the laughter around me, and people shouting over the music blended into a hum that made my temples ache-- I was two seconds away from bursting into tears.

Thankfully, my only source of comfort appeared behind me with a soothing hand on my back, reaching for my hair as I leaned over the sink; Letha. Her touch gave me a major deja vu from the night Roman and I first kissed, when she had held my hair back when I felt sick.

Roman and I-- kissing.

Roman... kissing.

Roman kissing Jessica.

I let myself gag at the memory as tears welled in my eyes. "There, there," Letha cooed, bending down to catch the look on my face. I wondered whether she smelled the cigarettes on me, or whether she had noticed the fact that I was wearing Roman's jacket. "What's got you like this, hm? You just disappeared, and now..." She leaned in, sniffing me. "Girl, you smell like a bombed whorehouse! Who have you been hanging around? Jack?"

The memory of Jack Edwards almost made me laugh-- I caught myself, fighting back the acid in my throat as I made sure the vial of Roman's blood was safely tucked beneath my shirt and out of Letha's sight. "I drank the whole bottle of rosé," I confessed.

"What? You had barely touched it the last time I saw you, how on earth did you manage?" Letha's laugh was teasing, her voice laced with that soft concern she always wore like perfume. Heavy. Suffocating. I wondered whether this was how it felt like to live in East Germany after the Second World War-- watched.

"I don't know," I muttered, placing my hand over the vial again. If I really focused, I could imagine that it was beating, like Roman's caged blood was still pumping to his heart. "I don't feel good."

Letha hummed, patting my back over and over. "You can take it just a little more, though, right...? I told Jack you felt bad about what happened on the bleachers the other day, and he still wants to have a chat with you!--"

"No!" I sucked in a sharp breath, gagging on the vomit threatening its way up my throat. Grabbing the counter to steady myself, I rocked back and forth to keep myself grounded.

Yet Letha pressed on as she pushed people away from the sink; this party was way too damn crowded. "But Jack could be the perfect distraction for you!" she insisted. "He's cute, he's kind, he's nothing like Roman, he's!--"

"I said no!" Jack hadn't told Letha that Roman and I had fucked; that was all that mattered to me. Nonetheless, I somehow managed to not throw up when I straightened up, taking deep breaths as I turned to her. "You're really fucking insistent, do you know that?"

Letha raised an eyebrow, setting her drink down with a soft clink. "Christ, what's wrong now?"

I didn't answer right away, hoping my offence would sift through my fingers. The question hung heavy and loaded in the air, too simple, too dismissive. The noise of the party pressed in from all sides, but here, with her, it felt like we were in a vacuum, the tension building by the second, and just for a moment, I had the oddest thought-- Letha would've been a good KGB agent. Her interrogation techniques could be polished, sure, but somewhere in that blonde girl was an intense, manipulative Russian.

... God, I was way too drunk.

With a sigh, I leaned back over the sink, trying to keep myself steady. "Guess I'm just tired, Letha--"

"Tired from what, smoking?" Letha tilted her head, the faintest smile tugging at the corner of her lips. "I can smell it on you, y'know? You smell like a Godfrey. Is this about Roman again?"

Something about her tone set my teeth on edge. I didn't answer, but my silence said enough; I was afraid I'd start barking if I opened my mouth.

"Are we really going back to this?" Letha huffed, softly, like she was doing me a favour, like she hadn't been the one dragging knives across my heart for weeks. "How many times do I have to tell you that you need to start taking active steps to get over him? It's like you never listen! My words go in one ear and out the other!"

I felt the first sparks of anger flare in my chest, hot and sudden; "You've told me a lot of things,"

"What's that supposed to mean?!--"

"It means," I hissed, gripping the counter so hard my knuckles were going white. "That I don't think you've ever really been honest with me. Not about him, not about anything."

Letha let out an offended laugh before her smile vanished-- the look on my face was unmistakeable, and it set her off. "I've always been honest with you, unlike what you have been with me!"

"Bullshit. Do you really not get it, or are you just pretending as always?"

Her brows knit together; "Pretending?"

"Yeah, pretending. Like how you pretended to support me, to be my friend, to have my back? I've let you do this for weeks!" My chest tightened, each word tumbling out sharper than the last. "God, Letha, you reacted like I murdered someone when I told you about Roman and I! I was honest with you, I fessed up, and you basically spat in my face!"

Every inch of Letha seemed to tighten. "You're drunk," she said through gritted teeth. "Calm down, please, before you throw up all over yourself!--"

"Oh, fuck you,"

"... What?!"

I had to suppress a grin; I had waited too long to say that.

Letha's mouth opened slightly, stunned. She glanced around the party, making sure no one was catching the verbal beating she was taking-- I knew she'd care if someone noticed. She'd care a lot. "You know why I reacted the way I did!" she hissed, lowering her voice as she got closer to my face. "He's been getting with my friends for ages, and you were getting yourself into something dangerous!--"

"No!" I cut her off, voice rising along with my nausea. "No, I told you about it because I trusted you! I didn't lie, I came clean to you, and fucking hell, Jesus treated Judas better than you treated me!--"

My yelling, along with the mix of rosé and cigarettes, finally pushed my body over the edge. Gagging, I threw myself over the sink to finally throw up; "O-Oh, fuck!--" The concoction that left me was beyond anything I had ever secreted. All my pain, all my anger, balled up into whatever the fuck it was that left my mouth.

Immediately, Letha's hands flew to my hair, holding it back as I threw up in Jasmine's sink. Despite our fight, despite the verbal abuse, she was still making sure I was alright-- it made my heart ache. Everything about this night was tearing at my heart, actually; images of Roman kissing Jessica flashed before my eyes as my body burned. Was I maybe about to have a heart attack? I was surely susceptible of one.

As I cried into the sink, sobbing with pain, Letha traced soothing patterns into my back, hushing me gently. "Shh... You'll be alright," she tried. "I know it feels like your world is ending, but you'll be alright. Someday, you won't even remember this."

My chest felt like it was caving in on itself. How could I ever forget any of this? How could I ever forget Roman?

"I'm sorry if I've been a bad friend," Letha continued, carefully stroking through my hair. "I hope you can forgive me... and I hope that we can someday forgive each other. Because at the end of all of this, through it all, all I ever wanted was for us to be friends again, and... for me to have someone in my court if everything goes down." Her words were small, fragile; "I just wanted my friend back."

I garnered the strength to look back at Letha, heart pounding, and before I could think it through, my drunken confession came tumbling out; "I slept with him,"

Letha's eyes rounded out as she slowly let go of my hair. "What?" she breathed.

"Yeah," My words were quiet as I pulled my shirt down to expose the hickey on the peak of my shoulder. "On the library floor, a week ago." I was sure she could spot the outline of the vial around my neck as I adjusted the jacket draped around me-- I could see in Letha's eyes that everything in her mind was actively falling apart.

And therefore, I delivered the final blow; "Can you forgive me now? Truly, Letha?"

The silence between us that followed was crushing, all-taking. It felt like I had been sucked into a plastic bag, with the air being drained with me stuck inside of it. Letha's lips parted, ready to speak, yet I saw that she couldn't find the right words to say.

But what followed would flip the narrative completely.

"Yeah... I can,"

My face ticked, and I felt my eye twitch as my words left me with my next breath; "What?" The music pounded through the walls, bass-heavy and relentless. Voices swelled, laughter spiked, but here, in the dim glow of the kitchen, everything felt suffocatingly small. My stomach was still twisting, nausea rolling in waves as I clutched the counter-- what was happening?

Letha's breath was unsteady, but when she spoke again, her voice was calm and unshaken. "I can forgive you," she repeated, like she was offering me the grandest admission of mercy.

I blinked at her, the words catching somewhere in my throat.

With a sigh, Letha brushed nonexistent dust off her dress before smoothing down her hair. "Because that's what friends do. We forgive, even when it hurts... And you're my best friend, so this time, I forgive you,"

Somewhere behind us, someone let out a shriek of laughter, bottles clinking in celebration. My head was spinning, my stomach churning from more than just the alcohol-- this felt wrong. Was this really happening?

Letha tilted her head slightly, watching me struggle. "I'm not going to pretend this doesn't hurt," she admitted, voice barely audible over the chaos outside the kitchen. "But I mean it. I just want you to be okay, and it's okay to... slip up, I guess. You're human, unlike a big part of him." She took a step back, giving me space-- she was the gracious one here, as always. "Because that's what friends do, right?" Her lips curved, not quite a smile. "We forgive. We put each other first."

The weight of her words settled in my chest in the most unpleasant way possible. "I'm supposed to tell him whether I want to give us another chance," I confessed. "Like... tonight. Right now."

Letha's hand found my back again, fingers light. I was scared she'd get mad, that she'd start cussing me out, but alas... nothing. "Okay, I see," she said, softer now. "I know you love him, but love doesn't change what he is. It doesn't change what he could do to you. Keep that in mind when you make your decision."

I swallowed hard, nausea curling tight inside me. Did I know? Did I really? My grip tightened around the counter; was I getting swayed?

Letha shook her head, her brows knitting together, like she hated to be the one saying this; "You don't have to prove anything. Not to him, not to me. You just... have to do what's right," She sighed, giving me one last careful look. "And I hope you know that I'll be here for you, no matter what."

... Fuck.

Roman's pack of cigarettes felt heavy in my pocket again, and I hated it. Hated the blood-red lighter in the other, next to the cold cider. Hated the way he had carved our initials into it like some twisted promise. But fate had a tight, deadly grip around me that I couldn't get out of-- I somehow managed to wry myself away from Letha and the kitchen with a red solo cup filled with water, downing it as I made my way down the stairs.

It was time to give Roman an answer-- the answer I didn't want to give him, the one I never thought I'd give him.

I shoved my way down through the crowd with my heart thumping in my chest. Was I gonna find Roman with Jessica? This was giving me an intense case of deja vu from all the times I had actually seen him with other girls, before we ever started dating. Was I gonna catch him making out with Jessica somewhere, even after he had sent me that excruciatingly long voice mail where he could only profess his love for me over and over?

But that wasn't love.

Him kissing Jessica in front of me like that-- that couldn't be love.

Letha had been right all along, hadn't she?

I pushed through the people dancing in the living room downstairs, trying to ignore the laughter and the small talk that surrounded me. It felt like a different world, one that had nothing to do with me right now. I was desperate for a moment of clarity, and the only person who could give me that was Roman... yet I didn't dare to find him. I didn't want to see him with Jessica. I couldn't bare the sight of it.

I shoved open the back door to the yard, and cold night air hit me like a slap. I welcomed it. The darkness out there was different from the party lights. It was real. Still. Empty.

I wasn't alone for long; I heard footsteps behind me, and the soft, deliberate crunching against the floor of the porch quickly become unmistakeable. The door closed shut as I leaned against the wood structure leading to the garden-- I knew who this was. Letting out a sigh, I reached for the cider in my pocket, cracking it open with a hiss despite knowing I shouldn't have any more drinks tonight.

The first sip was sharp, bitter, but it cut through the lump in my throat I got from knowing Roman was here with me, alone. I let my eyes follow him when he walked into sight, leaning against the wooden frame opposite me with that Godfrey nonchalance I was used to from him. His shirt had been tucked back in, his hair had been combed back into place-- something told me he had prepared to corner me since he watched me leave with his jacket.

Roman's eyes were so mesmerizing, so green. It was the most beautiful shade of green. It was such a shame to see them glossed over by that searching look in them, the exact look that gave away his hidden anxiety. Finally, he spoke, nodding to my drink with his usual charm; "I don't think you should be having more of those,"

It only made me clutch the cider harder, steading my footing on the porch so that I wouldn't tumble into the grass to my side. "Fuck off,"

"Oh, yeah? You wanna go there?"

"Yeah," After seeing him kissing Jessica like that? Sure.

Roman rolled his eyes, clenching his jaw to stop himself from arguing back right away. He looked so strict like this-- it was painfully arousing. He plucked the bottle from my grasp with ease, lifting it to his lips as if daring me to stop him; his smirk widened when I didn't.

Forfeiting my cider allowed me to dip my hand back into my pocket and fish out the lighter and the cigarettes. Roman's eyes widened as he watched me put two cigarettes in my mouth, about to light them both, before he snatched one of them from between my lips; "Careful, there," he said, throwing it away somewhere. "Don't get too excited. You'll go into nicotine shock."

"Don't care," I lit the one I had left, but not without glaring at him properly. "I already threw up tonight."

"You did?"

"Yeah,"

"Oh, you fragile thing," he cooed, amused. "You're going to ruin yourself like this."

I bet that some part of him would've loved to see that. I snorted; "Don't care,"

Roman's brows drew together when he realized I was completely serious, when he saw that my empty look wasn't wavering. "Yeah... I got that," He mumbled, shaking his head. "Jeez, you're dramatic tonight."

I let the silence stretch as I simply glared at him; if he thought this was me at my most dramatic, then he didn't know me at all.

Roman watched me, waiting for me to argue, to snap at him, to give him something to work with. When I didn't, his smirk faltered and his voice softened; "What is this, then, hm? You trying to prove a point?"

I inhaled deeply. "Nah, that's your way of doing this," The smoke burned, stung my throat, but I needed it, needed something to hold onto as my pulse pounded against my ribs; it made my pain about his kiss with Jessica physical. I needed it to be, so my brain wouldn't fry itself.

Roman sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Listen, I get it, alright? You're mad about Jessica. You wanna play hard to get, fine. But let's cut the bullshit, cause you're not going anywhere," He said it like it was a fact, like it was already decided-- "Not really."

He was so sure of it.

So sure of us.

I couldn't look at him anymore. I couldn't watch Roman fall apart all over again when he would realize what I had chosen, not when I was still so irrevocably angry with him. My gaze fell to the floor as I remained silent, waiting for it to dawn on him.

Roman's smirk wavered in the cold night air. He searched my face, waiting for the usual pattern-- for me to scoff, roll my eyes, shove him and say something biting but not final.

... I did none of those things.

His fingers twitched with nervous anticipation. "You're mad," he said, slower this time. "Say something. Humour me, yeah? Pretend that you actually love me, just for a second."

"Fuck you,"

"Baby, come on—"

"Don't say I don't love you. If I didn't, I wouldn't be standing here after you pulled that crap with Jessica just now! If I didn't love you, I would be inside running around to find Jack,"

Roman's green eyes widened— was it the shock of the threat, or the fact that he had made that threat a reality he had to fear? The party seemed so far away, and our life together felt even further away than that. "I'm sorry about Jessica," he breathed. "You know it's nothing personal, you know I can't stand her guts. I just thought you'd... I thought it would be good to show you what life's gonna be like if we don't end up together."

I almost chuckled-- did he really think that was a good plan? Did he really think that'd work? My eyes darted to the cigarette between my fingers while I wondered whether or not to torture myself with another drag. "You wanted to show me that you'll go back to sleeping with the cheerleaders while I become a chain-smoker?" I snarked. "Sounds like a wet dream of yours."

"That's not what I meant!—"

"What did you mean, then?!"

"I don't!— I don't want to keep talking about this!" Roman flailed his arms, frustrated; "It's not relevant, because we're not going to be apart, and because we're going to my place later and!-- and you're going to fall asleep next to me again, and your hair will be all over my pillow in the morning, and we're going to be okay!"

Oh, how I wanted us to be.

But the way he described it made me realize he might've not fully developed his consequential thinking. Did he really think that was a realistic end of this night after what he had done?

I felt tongue-tied by my shock, frozen like an icicle to Jasmine's stupid porch. What he had just described, was all I wanted. I wanted to go to Roman's place later, wanted to feel his arm around me as he pulled me closer in his slumber, and I wanted to lie around in bed while fighting sleep to get a few more minutes with him. Swallowing hard, I did my best to waft away the memories flashing before me, yet I soon realized it was an impossible task.

Roman's eyes rounded out with his next breath, his heart visibly breaking--

"Cause... you're choosing us, right?"

My mouth repeatedly opened and closed, stuck. How could I, after everything?

Meanwhile Roman's gaze flickered over my mine, searching for some confirmation, some reassurance that I was just being difficult, that I was still his-- it was a heartbreaking sight. It only made me grip the cigarette tighter, feeling the heat against my fingers. It was dying out, just as I was, just as we were.

Something cracked in Roman's expression. "You're serious," he breathed.

It broke me to realize that I was.

This had to end.

It had to.

Roman's face hardened as he took a step closer. The air between us thickened, turning heavy with something more than just tension-- something sharp, something raw. "You're seriously doing this?" he muttered, the disbelief in his tone prevailing. "After everything? After all of this time, you just-- we're done? Like that?"

My throat was too tight, and all the words got trapped inside. In a way, it felt like I was choking on everything said and unsaid.

Roman's hands were clenched, and the tension in his shoulders made him seem even taller, more imposing. A part of me was scared he'd pounce, that he'd be overcome by whatever upir instincts he had beneath his pretty appearance-- I didn't want to think about it. I was afraid I'd scream and run away if I did. To distract myself, I put my cigarette out on the ledge nearby; I didn't care about the state of Jasmine's house.

I wasn't sure whether my quiet motions read as nonchalance, but it seemed to shove Roman closer to the edge. "You're pushing me away, even after all my fucking reassurance? Even after your voicemail? I gave you everything, I showed you that I'm nothing to be scared of, and you're just... walking away like I'm nothing, over some kiss? Did you ever even love me?"

That question knocked the air out of me. "Some kiss?!"

"Yes!"

"Roman you've— you've proven yourself to be exactly who I feared you'd be all along!" I yelled. "Someone who hurts me!"

Desperate, Roman grabbed my arm, his grip tight, but not enough to hurt. His eyes searched mine, pleading-- "Come on," he begged, his voice shaking now. "I love you. I really fucking love you."

"No! Because you if truly did love me, you wouldn't be hurting me as a means to get back together with me! You're a child!" I snapped, finally giving in to my frustrations. Drunkenly trying to wry myself out of his grip, I felt my tears burn in my eyes, blurring my vision. "This has to end! You and I, it has to end! Letha's right, you will always want to fuck the cheerleaders, and you will always be a upir, and that will never change!--"

My breath stopped in my chest-- fuck.

Letha.

It was the first time I had verbally confirmed it, and I knew I had shot myself in the foot with it.

The name hung in the air like poison, and Roman looked like he'd been gutted by it.

He stared at me for a long, horrible moment, his eyes wide with disbelief. His grip loosened around my wrist; "You--" he started, his voice hoarse. "You're... serious? So that's it? You're throwing us away because of her? Because of the shit she's been feeding you to take revenge on me?!"

"It's not all because of her, Roman, but she's right! Letha is right that you'll always be dangerous, that you'll always have some underlying urges, and that you'll never be safe to be around!" My voice cracked as I said it; there it was, a cold, harsh truth I couldn't ignore anymore. "You said you'd never hurt me, but you're like a ticking fucking bomb in more aspects than I can count on my fingers!"

That was it; Roman snapped, his fist slamming into the wooden structure I was leaning against with a deafening crack, making it shake. "Bullshit!"

The boom of it made me flinch and squeak in terror, and instinctively, my hands shot out to push him away, shoving him with all the strength I could muster in my panicked state. "You're scaring me again!" I yelled, heaving for air. "Stop it! I beg you, just stop it!"

Stunned by his own outburst and its consequence, Roman allowed me to push him. He could've planted himself to his spot, could've resisted with no problem, but he took a step back for my comfort.

My heart was pounded against my ribs as tears filled my eyes. I couldn't have him barging at me like that, not when I was this hurt, scared, and drunk. A man that truly loved me wouldn't be doing this, right? My legs shook with the remnants of the heaviness of the conversation, and I heaved for air with terrified gasps as I decided to turn on my heel.

Immediately, Roman went into action-- "Wait, please!" His voice instinctively softened as he rummaged through his brain for the best course of action. "I'm sorry, okay?! I just don't want to lose you, I'm freaking out here!" He reached out for me, but it was too late.

I was already backing away, not looking back, not waiting for any more apologies— I knew I wouldn't believe them anymore.

Even the heaviness of Roman's jacket couldn't slow me down, not when I was this desperate to get away from my terrifying breakup-- the sound of music and chatter met me when I opened the door back to the house, but the pounding of my heart nearly drowned it all out.

Roman's voice followed me inside, each word an attempt to reel me back, but I wasn't turning around. I couldn't look at him; I couldn't do that to myself.

"Come on!" he yelled through the deafening noise. "Are we really doing this again?!"

I made my way through the living room, not looking for anything but an escape. The staircase loomed ahead, and without thinking, I shot up the stairs, taking them two at a time as my legs shook with adrenaline and fear. The air in the house felt suffocating now, the walls closing in as I reached the top of the stairs and darted down the hallway. This was not happening. This was not happening. I was too drunk for this-- were the walls actually moving? The more I looked at them, the more I had a feeling they were pulsing, inching closer to squeeze me to death.

Speaking of death-- Roman's footsteps grew closer, and his voice got louder; "Please, we can fix this! Just hear me out, please!—"

With my heart hammering in my chest, I glanced back to calculate how long I had until he caught up to me. Panicked, I grabbed at every room in the hallway, pushing past the people blocking my way as I desperately suppressed my tears from running down my cheeks.

This was not happening.

This was not happening.

Roman dragged a hand through his hair, angry, desperate, as his long footsteps allowed him to chase me down with ease. "You're making a mistake!" he pleaded. "Let's talk it out, okay? Please, please, just listen, I love you, I'll calm down, I'm not going to hurt you, I promise!--"

With a scared squeak, I finally managed to force a door open; thank fuck. But before I could even step fully into the room, Roman's leg shot forward, forcing the door back, and in an instant, I realized there was no way I could keep him out-- I stumbled backward, eyes wide and frantic as I turned away from him to start planning my escape.

And then, my breath caught.

Because what I saw inside the room, was Letha half-naked on the bed--

With Peter beneath her.

My body froze for a split second before a scream ripped itself from my throat; I shrieked, mortified as I stumbled backwards.

What...

... The fuck?!

Letha and Peter scrambled to untangle themselves, their eyes widening with panic as they tried to hide the obvious. Peter's shirt was half undone, and Letha's hair was a mess, both of them completely caught off guard. The sight of them in that moment, exposed and guilty, made my chest tighten in a way I couldn't describe; I knew exactly what I had just walked in on.

And Roman, in a blur of motion, rushed forward-- his arms wrapped around me from behind, pulling me to his chest with surprising force. One hand covered my eyes, blocking my view of the chaos I had just walked in on to shield me. "What the fuck?!" he barked, kicking the door shut behind us. "What's this?!"

My mind was actively melting against Roman's chest. It didn't help the situation that I could smell his usual cologne better than ever— God, I'd miss that smell in the coming years, wouldn't I?

But Peter and Letha were still scrambling, wide-eyed, and before they could say anything, Roman continued; "Are you out of your fucking minds?!"

Was this maybe just a drunk hallucination of sorts? Was this really happening? Letha and Peter? I should've listened to Jack earlier this week-- I should've listened to myself, because I had suspected something for a while, hadn't I?

Peter was the first one to talk, visibly panicking; "Ro, calm down!--"

"Don't fucking tell me to calm down! What the fuck are you doing with my cousin, man?!"

"Letha and I were just!--"

"Yeah, I see what you were just doing, you filthy piece of shit!"

"Dude, I'm sorry, I tried to tell you! Over and over, I swear, I tried to!--"

"Tell me what?! Is this not a one time thing? Is that what all your bullshit has been about?!" Roman yelled. "You calling me at prom and then not saying shit? All the times you've said you were busy when I knew you were just at home?" I could feel his chest raise with the air he forced inside his lungs-- a part of me was scared he'd faint from the anger. "You've been fucking my cousin?!"

"And you've fucked all the friends I've ever had!" Letha yelled back, protecting Peter while struggling to straighten her dress. Then she pointed to me, eyes drilling into Romans'; "I begged you not to touch her all those months ago too, but you didn't listen either!"

A sick laugh ripped from Roman's throat, and when he finally pulled his hand away from my face, I saw it; the pure, unfiltered rage in his expression. "You have got to be fucking kidding me!" He stepped forward, eyes locking onto Letha. "You have been in her ear for weeks-- weeks!" He jabbed a finger toward me, his voice breaking slightly. "You've been telling her to stay away from me, telling her I'm dangerous, that I'll hurt her, while you've been making my life a living hell for the same thing that you have been doing too all along!"

"Roman, I!--"

"You sick fuck!" he barked, and the sheer volume of it made me flinch.

My head was spinning to the point where I thought I'd throw up again. It felt like a painful vibration in the front of my brain, and I squeezed my eyes shut as I pressed my palm to my forehead. Without thinking, I put my free hand on Roman's arm, silently telling him to give me a second. "How long has this been going on?" I tried.

Peter and Letha anxiously glanced at one another, looking like they were both ready for the world to swallow them whole. "I don't--" Letha started.

"-- Don't know," Peter mumbled, looking guilty as ever. "Three months? Maybe four?-- Ouch!"

Letha smacked his arm, visibly upset that he had admitted that. "Stop talking! You've already stressed me out with wanting to tell Roman about us, you've done enough!"

"He deserves to know!" Peter tried. His brown eyes were big with disgrace; "I told you I didn't want to hide this, I told you he might understand!"

This kicked Roman into the next gear. "Understand...? Understand?!" The boom of his voice made Peter turn white, and Letha grabbed the sheets of the bed as though they would somehow shield her. "Dude, you're fucking my cousin! I could rip your fucking head off right now if I wanted to, and you best believe that I do!--"

In timely manner, I suddenly gagged, clasping a hand over my mouth; that thankfully shut everyone up for second. This was too much for one night.

"She's gonna throw up," Letha mumbled. In true Godfrey fashion, she used this as an opportunity to start slowly scooting toward the edge of the bed, hoping for an easy escape. "We need to get her back to the kitchen sink, and then we can all talk about this when she feels better in a few days!--"

My hand shot up into the air, holding my pointer up as I recovered.

It was a very clear sign of shut up.

Shut.

Up.

I straightened my back, feeling my eye twitch with newfound anger. "Is that what you meant earlier, Letha?" I asked, my voice frail and quiet, yet steady. "When you said you wanted to have someone in your court if everything went down? Have you... been setting everything up for this?"

The silence in the room was deafening.

Letha swallowed hard; "Look, I just--"

"Have you been breaking Roman and I up so that I'd be on your side?" I continued, cutting her off. "You knew that Peter was going to tell Roman about you two eventually. And when he'd find out, you... needed me to be your friend again so that you wouldn't be alone. Because this will... this will cost you everything, Letha."

I gagged again at the realization-- Roman's arm shot forward to catch me from tumbling. I held onto him, feeling the tears press on in my eyes. "You didn't want to be friends with me," I breathed, my words coming out as clear whispers. "You just needed someone that was isolated. I was vulnerable, I was scared, and I was perfect for your plan, wasn't I?"

Letha's lips parted, but no words came out. She was staring at me, the usual sharpness in her eyes replaced with something I had never seen before-- guilt. Real guilt. Not the performative, self-righteous kind she always weaponized, but something raw, something vulnerable.

I could barely stand to look at her.

"Oh my God," I whispered, turning away from the scene. "You planned all of this."

Letha shook her head, frantic. "No!-- I mean, not like that, I!--"

"You what? What now?!" Roman snapped, stepping closer to the bed. His presence was suffocating, his fury burning through the room like wildfire. "You're always talking about morals, and you're always acting like you're so much better than me, but look at what you've done! So tell me, Letha, where's your moral high ground now?"

Letha's breathing was ragged, frozen in the most mortifying moment of her life. She looked back at Peter like he could somehow save her, but he just rubbed his face, looking more done than ever. "This is so fucked..." he muttered under his breath, almost like he was annoyed.

Roman's attention snapped back to him in an instant. "Oh, you think this is fucked?" He let out a humorless laugh; "You didn't even have the fucking balls to tell me yourself! You knew that Letha's been making my life hell while you've been doing God knows what with her behind my back!"

"It's not that simple!" Peter barked, scooting forward on the bed to shield Letha and give her space to breathe. "We've-- I've been into Letha for longer than I can remember!"

Letha immediately protested, and her face turned more and more red by the second; "Stop talking, stop talking, I swear to God! I'm going to die of a heart attack at this rate!"

But her pleas didn't stop Peter. He was ready to fess up, just like he had been for a while, now. His shoulders slumped as his eyes locked with Roman's, getting ready to face his biggest secret. "Letha and I used to date, man. We used to be... together-together. She was my girlfriend for a while, but we broke up because we didn't want to hurt you, Ro, and because it was getting out of control. It was just too big of a secret to keep. But then you got together with her..." He nodded to me with a sigh. "And Letha said we were free to do whatever we pleased, and I gave in because..."

Peter turned to face Letha with a sweet shimmer in his eyes-- the type of look I recognized from all the times Roman had looked at me like that.

"Because I love her," Peter whispered.

I could only watch as Letha slowly dared to place her hand on top of his, and they exchanged a painfully sincere silent vow.

The cherry on top for this moment, was when I started loudly gagging-- not because of the sight of them all loved up, but because all the drama, the stress, the alcohol, and the new sensation of nicotine. Acid crawled up my throat as I buckled over, crouching down as I tried to keep my breaths deep and steady; my brain felt like it was shutting down, and probably because it was.

Roman immediately bent down, trying to get on my level, but I wafted him away. He wouldn't be able to comfort me no matter what he did, not after how I had seen him kiss Jessica to get back at me.

I couldn't believe that I hadn't seen the signs. I couldn't believe that I hadn't noticed them being together when it had been right in front of me, all this time. Gathering strength, I spoke; "You're not really going to study philosophy, are you?"

Peter's head darted down to my crouched-over body. "What?"

"When I met you at the library," I breathed. "All that time ago, when you were reading tons of books about guilt...and you said it was because you were going to study philosophy. You've been lying to Roman and I, just like we've been lying to you. After all this fucking time... Fucking hell. We're, like, the shittiest group of people ever."

Roman, who had frozen to his spot in a mixture of disgust and shock, couldn't watch it any longer. His silence was worse than shouting. His chest rose and fell in sharp bursts, his nails dug into his palm, he had bit his teeth together so hard that I feared they might crack. The air in the room had changed; it was suffocating, thick with tension that pressed into my skin.

Peter dared to break it. "Roman--"

"Shut up," he hissed. "Enough."

Peter snapped his mouth shut, looking like he had just walked into traffic. Letha was frozen, her hand still resting on Peter's like she was drawing strength from him.

It didn't matter anymore— I wanted to get out. I needed to get out. Now.

"Rome," I mumbled, voice thin. "I need--"

His head darted to me immediately, and his eyes; God, his eyes. They weren't just angry anymore... they were desperate. He was coming undone too.

Letha seized the opportunity once more. "She needs air," she said quickly, standing up like she could actually be of help. "Let's just-- let's all go back down and talk about this later, okay?"

"Later?" Roman let out a sharp, breathless huff. "You don't get to decide that! Do you really think I'm ever talking to any of you uncouth mongoloids again?"

Letha huffed at the names. "But we should really figure out everything later, because you're about to lose your shit!"

Roman took a threatening step forward, and Peter immediately shifted off the bed to step in front of Letha. It was so instinctive that I nearly threw up all over again-- he truly loved her, didn't he? After all this time?

"You're protecting her, dude?" Roman snarled, nodding to his cousin. "After everything?"

Peter's expression twisted with something I couldn't quite place. "I don't expect you to get it,"

"Oh, I get it, alright," With a smooth, final move, Roman bent down to help me stand up straight.

I swayed in my shoes, my breath catching in my throat to stop myself from immediately barfing all over the carpet. "I need air," I breathed. "This night has been too much. Too many lies, and one too many upirs-- because I assume he knows?"

Briefly, I glanced over at Peter after spilling the secret, but he only looked more guilty the longer my stare cut through into him. Of course he knew that Roman was a upir. Of course.

Everything blurred together, spinning too fast, and the weight of my decision pressed down on me so hard that I thought I'd collapse. The room was suffocating, the walls were closing in again, and the heat was unbearable-- I just needed to leave, I needed air, I needed space.

So I pushed away from Roman, staggering toward the door. "I can't-- I need to go,"

Enough was enough.

My whole life had fallen apart, and I couldn't do anything to save it.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

I wrapped myself further up in Roman's heavy jacket as the world around me kept on swaying. I couldn't go home like this. I didn't even know how to get home.

How was I supposed to carry on after everything that had happened tonight?

But life is a tricky thing-- it doesn't let you go until it's your time. So my legs kept carrying me forward, down the driveway, past the parked cars, because I needed to go on. The streetlights above flickered, casting long shadows across the pavement; I barely registered where I was going, only that I needed to move. Somehow, my feet worked faster than my brain did-- I crossed streets without looking, stumbling over cracks in the sidewalk, the distant hum of the party fading behind me as I passed the houses in the neighbourhood.

All of this distracted from the heaviness of my heart.

I had lost everything.

But behind me, just far enough away that I couldn't hear his footsteps, Roman followed. My everything.

He didn't call out to me.

He didn't rush.

He just walked. With his hands tucked into the pocket of his pants, he walked like he was tethered to me by destiny.

And maybe he was? A big part of my believe it, but tonight? Tonight, I couldn't take it. I turned around to face him, my breath unsteady as all my emotions ravaged through my chest; "Could you please stop following me? I can't-- I can't think when you're near,"

Roman came to a slow halt. He swayed slightly, his shoulders slumped, his hair a mess over his face. He looked at me like he wasn't really seeing me at all, like he felt nothing and everything at the same time. Then, in a voice so quiet it barely carried, he muttered, "I just... I don't know what else to do,"

The admission hung between us, hollow and tired. He sounded so wrecked-- something cracked inside me at the sight of him, at the way his lips barely moved when he spoke, at the way he looked like he could fall apart with the wind. He had nothing left to give. Not to me, not to himself, nothing at all.

Looking at him any longer than this would kill me; I knew it. My heart trembled in my chest as my eyes welled with tears at the sight of him. "Me neither," I breathed, turning back around to continue my stride, too drunk to think clearly, too pained by the events of the night.

It didn't take Roman more than a beat to keep following me. What else could he do?

I didn't know where I was going, but a park came into view and seemed like the most peaceful option. The playground, the swings, the hollow quiet of a place meant for children, was abandoned at this hour-- my feet dragged through the wood chips as I made my way toward the middle of it, taking in the quiet of the landscape. Maybe this place would give us peace?

But Roman's steps came to an abrupt stop a few feet away. "Did you know?" he called out. "Are you sure you didn't know about Peter and Letha?"

I turned to look at him then, to really look at him. The streetlights cast shadows across his face— he was in the dark, where he certainly belonged. "I had no idea," I confessed. "I would've told you if I knew."

Roman let out a weak, bitter breath as he ran his fingers through his hair. "This is too much," he choked out. "This night-- I can't take any more of this. I feel like I just died."

A long silence stretched between us, thick with something neither of us could escape. There was no anger in his eyes now, no fire, just hollow emptiness, and I couldn't tell if that was worse. "I'm sorry about Peter," I tried, softening my eyes. "I always knew Letha was a bit of a cunt, but I would've never thought Peter would do something like this to you... I'm sorry."

Roman couldn't look at me anymore-- he raised his chin to look at the pair of crows sitting at the top of a nearby tree. It was at this moment that I saw the tears in his eyes, and the single one that rolled down his cheek. "I don't care about Peter," he breathed. "I don't care about him, I don't care about Letha, I-- I don't care about anything anymore."

My heart hammered in my chest— what?

"I feel at fault, because I should've known," Roman mumbled, his voice full of resignation as he rubbed away his tears with the back of his hand. "I should've known this would all fall apart... because it always does. People always leave. You always leave."

Fuck. "Roman," I whispered. "That's not—"

"I've been running after you, hoping that if I tried enough, if I did more, that you'd choose me... but you won't," he choked out, lower lip quivering. "Not even my best friend chose me. No one ever does, so... I'm done. I can't change what I am. I'll always be a upir, and if you can't trust that I'd rather die than hurt you, then there's nothing more I can do."

Roman turned away, and his shoulders slumped with the realization; at the end of the night, I wasn't the one who made the final decision about us-- it was him. His next breath seemed to be one of pained relief; "I can't keep doing this. Congratulations... You're free. I can't love you anymore. I won't love you anymore,"

He took a final, slow step back. "You're right... this has to end. It's over,"

And then, Roman Godfrey turned around to leave me drunk and alone in a park long past midnight.

... What?

Roman was done?

He couldn't love me anymore...?

I won't. I won't. I won't.

It echoed all over. It's over. I can't. I won't. But that's surely not how love works? Can someone just decide not to love someone?

My reaction to Roman leaving felt like a stolen breath-- painful, instant. It felt like my words clawed their way out of my mouth, forcing my jaw apart with one quick snap of bones, and exited with one quick, panicked yell; "Wait!"

It echoed through the park.

Over and over.

My hand laid over the vial of his blood which I kept around my neck, feeling it burn into my skin. "Roman, wait!"

... And it's around here that you'd assume this would end, right?

You're probably holding your breath, waiting for the moment when Roman's gonna turn around hear me out, tell me he loves me after all, that he's gonna forgive me and we'll live happily ever after, blah blah blah--

But this is not that kind of a story. I'm sorry that I made you believe it was.

Do you finally get why I've needed you along with me this time? Why I've been talking directly to you for once?

... No?

Fine. I'll be more clear. I'll show you the rest; I'll show you why.

My breath was stuck in my throat as I anticipated the sound of Roman's voice, the sound of his forgiveness coming out to soothe me. This was probably proper karmic retribution for me, sure, but could this really be the end?

Now that he was truly walking away, it hit me like a freight train; I didn't want it to end.

I didn't want to let him go, especially now that he was letting go of me.

It could work, right?

Every nerve in my body screamed at me to move, so I did. When I realized Roman wasn't turning back around, I choked down a brewing sob and hurried to keep up after him. "Rome, please!"

The nickname had him twitching; it was clear that he was upset about his choice, his forced resignation, and the doubt in his body was a consolation to my momentary panic. But in that moment, his head also turned to the side, and I saw something flicker in his eyes. In no time, completely out of the blue, Roman picked up his pace and started walking in a completely different direction like a dog in a fox-chase. His nose flared, his posture shifted-- he wasn't just walking away from me, he was sensing something.

What was happening?

"Wait!" My voice cracked, rising with panic. He wasn't stopping. He really wasn't stopping. "Stop it! Where are you going?!" Would we ever stop chasing each other? "Do you really expect me to be okay so easily after you kissed Jessica like that?! This is-- This is too much pressure, this is insane! Give me a minute to think at least, stop running!"

Roman's movements were so fast, so precise, that it felt like I was trying to catch up to a ghost. The distance between us seemed to stretch, and I could feel my limbs growing heavier with each step, the weight of my emotions and alcohol pulling me down. But I kept going, desperate, with my heart drumming in my ears.

And when Roman finally came to a halt in the outskirts of the park, I lunged forward; I tugged at the sleeve of his shirt, stumbling as I clung to him, forcing him to see me, to hear me. I let out a choked sob against him, desperate to not let go of the man that I loved. "Hear me out, okay?" I cried. "Just give me a second, I'm too drunk to think!"

But Roman didn't react.

Didn't look.

Because his gaze was frozen on something completely different.

There, tucked into one of the small, plastic playhouses, was a shape. A person.

Confused and broken, my gaze followed his. At first, it barely registered-- it was just someone that had passed out, curled up in the cramped space like a drunk trying to sleep it off. It was the kind of thing you might see after a party, someone who never made it home. That was normal; I didn't think much of it, confused by Roman's entrancement, until I recognized the pink clips in the person's hair.

That was Brooke Bluebell, wasn't it?

Fuck-- it was.

Then, I saw the way Roman's face shifted, the way his nostrils flared, the way he inhaled. It immediately made me step away from him and toward Brooke. Something cold crawled down my spine; "Roman?" I whispered, instantly feeling beyond nauseous once again. "Maybe we should?--"

His arm shot out, barring me from moving any closer. "Wait," he snapped, his voice coated with warning and concern.

The smell hit me a second later.

Coppery. Thick.

I gagged when I finally got a proper look, and I stumbled back as the truth crashed over me.

Brooke Bluebell wasn't sleeping.

She was laying in her own blood, her eyes wide open as her drained body looked frozen in a scream-- her intestines had been dragged out of her stomach, scattered along her torso, and her legs were gone, as though mauled from beneath.

Slowly, Roman turned to me, pupils dilated beyond normal; I knew his upir senses were screaming inside his head. "I thought the smell of blood was thicker because you were on your period or something," he breathed. "I thought-- fuck."

My mind was spinning beyond control, and only the sound of our heavy breathing filled the playground until the distant wail of sirens cut through the silence. I flinched, feeling my heart-rate spike; "Shit!-- Roman, we can't be here!" I grabbed his arm, trying to pull him away. "Please! You can't be exposed to this, we've gotta go!"

But Roman didn't move.

He wouldn't.

It was clear that he was trying to drown out whatever his upir senses were telling him to do, and I had no idea how I was supposed to reel him away from the edge.

The sirens howled closer, and the wind picked up, scattering the scent of blood into the cold night air.

... Brooke Bluebell was dead.

And we were about to be caught at the scene of her murder.

Notes:

AAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!!!!! WELCOME TO THE PLOT OF BOOK 2-- YES THERE WILL BE A BOOK TWO!!! I WILL BE MAKING AN ANNOUNCEMENT ON TUMBLR THIS WEEKEND, BUT BEFORE THAT; THANK YOU SO SO SO MUCH MY SWEETHEARTS FOR READING THIS FAR!!🥹🌸 I have been building towards the Letha and Peter reveal since the STARTTTT AHHHH FINALLY IT'S YOURS!!! FINALLY I CAN SHARE IT!!! MY HEART IS YOURS, AND SO IS MY WORK, SO THANK YOU<3333 AND I'M SORRY FOR THIS OH GOD???

Series this work belongs to:

Part 1 of party favors Next Work →

Actions

Kudos

SlutForAuthority, 7_of_hearts, pumkinspicechai, Life_sucks_life, Dero, FateAL, ladyelide, stephon, BurlapSacks, carola1123, Hansson101, Pixiestix004, sanitizingspray, IWroteYouThis, Therapyanitcheap, Nyekki_Chevski, Illusive_SVK1, WHINTG3LL, humanrinds, Nenebenji, inkedshadow, urnoteatingit, perin, uchdyck, kitchenfood, YourAlternativePansexualAunt, imnotevenheretbh1, roubicheauxwitch, vintag3_dream, 88_Sammy_88, Mrs_Unknow, kkiitsu, sunlightbunny, Fire_SkinWalker, IHeartBadGuys, Ifyouregonnasetfiretothenight, Papillion_Vert, DalekDuchess, vadersangel, StrawberryMoonpies, bree_spree, cleoo_patraa, FocusAndTheFuries, The_Morrigan888888, cyberharpy, Livvele, meowwww3333333333, peach8543, jarvococko, theageofcaravel, and 31 more users as well as 85 guests left kudos on this work!

Comments

Pages Navigation

Addie (Guest) on Chapter 1 Tue 12 Nov 2024 05:32AM UTC

Please please please. Been listening to no. 1 party anthem and if that’s not miss man’s song I don’t know what is. Makes me feel depth

Comment Actions
- Reply
- Thread
1. kingkat12 on Chapter 1 Tue 12 Nov 2024 11:18PM UTC
  
  ADDIE, you’re back!! I haven’t heard this song before, but I’m listening to it rn and let’s just say it’s going STRAIGHT to the playlist I’ve made for this song!!! thank you for the song rec, and thank you for coming back and leaving this comment!! the new chapter is coming soon❤️❤️
  
  Comment Actions
Nenebenji on Chapter 1 Wed 04 Jun 2025 08:01AM UTC

How the heck did you get his dialogue to be so good?!?! Had to to send some screenshots to my partner to let em know they are lacking because Jesus Christ no one can amount.

Comment Actions
- Reply
- Thread
1. kingkat12 on Chapter 1 Fri 06 Jun 2025 11:41PM UTC
  
  awwww I take this as a huge compliment, I love writing dialogue!!!😭💕 good luck to your partner, not many people can be as hot as the notorious Roman Godfrey, so give them some slack pls💀🙏🏻 and as for how, idk?? I read it out loud to myself sometimes, and I spend a lot of time rewriting, so I'm sorry to not have a concrete answer😭 I just go with whatever gives me butterflies!!! thank you<3333
  
  Comment Actions
Nygmobblepotty on Chapter 3 Thu 05 Sep 2024 11:49AM UTC

Stop I’m crying

Comment Actions
- Reply
- Thread
1. kingkat12 on Chapter 3 Mon 16 Sep 2024 12:21AM UTC
  
  nooo omg i'm sorry😭🌸 (it doesn't get much better) (or well sorta) (you'll see!!!)
  
  Comment Actions
Addie (Guest) on Chapter 3 Sat 14 Sep 2024 03:02PM UTC

Please please continue, this is amazing

Comment Actions
- Reply
- Thread
1. kingkat12 on Chapter 3 Mon 16 Sep 2024 12:20AM UTC
  
  the next chapter is already in the making!!! thank you so so much for your comment, how sweet!!<33333
  
  Comment Actions
Veyzus on Chapter 4 Thu 19 Sep 2024 12:05AM UTC

Oh roman is gonna get their asssss 🙏🏻

Comment Actions
- Reply
- Thread
1. kingkat12 on Chapter 4 Sat 21 Sep 2024 12:56PM UTC
  
  as he should??? tihi🙈 love this comment ahaha
  
  Comment Actions
Addie (Guest) on Chapter 4 Thu 19 Sep 2024 02:26AM UTC

AT LONG LAST!! Gettem roman

Comment Actions
- Reply
- Thread
1. kingkat12 on Chapter 4 Sat 21 Sep 2024 12:56PM UTC
  
  oh dw, he's gonna get those bitches LMAOOO thank you for leaving a comment once again, gave me a good giggle!!💜🙈
  
  Comment Actions
BooStars on Chapter 4 Thu 19 Sep 2024 07:23PM UTC

Letha is honestly so dramatic WTF!!! Can’t wait for the next update

Comment Actions
- Reply
- Thread
1. kingkat12 on Chapter 4 Sat 21 Sep 2024 12:57PM UTC
  
  let's see whether ur opinion changes in the next chapter.....😌🤭 oh the shit i have in stooooooore, thank you for leaving a comment!!
  
  Comment Actions
Adrienne (Guest) on Chapter 7 Tue 22 Oct 2024 12:35AM UTC

Oh hell yeah. I think. She should listen to Letha but trust Roman. If he is trustable ( or maybe even if not) THEY GOTTA GET DOWWWWN

Comment Actions
- Reply
- Thread
1. isisoasis1 (Guest) on Chapter 7 Wed 23 Oct 2024 02:20AM UTC
  
  yessss , def waiting on next update !
  
  Comment Actions
2. 1. kingkat12 on Chapter 7 Fri 25 Oct 2024 12:11AM UTC
    
    ahhh how sweet, thank you!!! i'm working on it rn, hoping to get it out either this week or the next so stay tuned!!<333
    
    Comment Actions
  2. 1. Adrienne (Guest) on Chapter 7 Sun 27 Oct 2024 09:24PM UTC
      
      Thank you for single handedly feeding my crippling addiction to this man & this book! You’re one in a million to actually read it. And to write so well wtf!! You have a loyal fan 🖤 Would literally die 4 u lol. I AM STAYING SO TUNED ITS CRAZY!!! 🖤🖤🖤 I cant wait!!
      
      Comment Actions
    2. 1. kingkat12 on Chapter 7 Fri 01 Nov 2024 09:18PM UTC
        
        WHAT!!! you're too sweet omg, you made my day with this😭🩷 SO GLAD TO HEAR YOU'RE STAYING TUNED YAYYYY!! the next chapter is out now, hope you'll like it dearest Adrienne!!✨
        
        Comment Actions
        
        Reply
        
        Thread
        
        Parent Thread
3. kingkat12 on Chapter 7 Fri 25 Oct 2024 12:14AM UTC
  
  ooooo i see we think quite alike🙈 and whether Roman is trustable or not will be something to keep an eye out about... the next chapter might reveal a thing or two!!🤭 thank you for your engagement, it's really exciting for me as an author!!! and they WILL GET DOWNNNN so stay tuned!!🌸✨🩷
  
  Comment Actions
caramelhunny on Chapter 9 Mon 25 Nov 2024 09:28PM UTC

Ugh I'm lapping it up when is the next upload

Comment Actions
- Reply
- Thread
1. kingkat12 on Chapter 9 Wed 27 Nov 2024 05:06PM UTC
  
  i'm glad you're liking it, how exciting!!<33 next update will hopefully be next week, so stay tuned!!;)
  
  Comment Actions
caramelhunny on Chapter 10 Tue 10 Dec 2024 10:22AM UTC

Omg an update😭 can't wait for the next!

Comment Actions
- Reply
- Thread
1. kingkat12 on Chapter 10 Sat 14 Dec 2024 01:04AM UTC
  
  ofc!! tryna get this fic done;) thank you for your comment, the next chapter is already in the works!!!<3333
  
  Comment Actions
lettie (Guest) on Chapter 11 Mon 13 Jan 2025 04:01AM UTC

BAHBAHBAHAHAHAHH the ending, I feel seen. More importantly, thank you so much. I truly loved this!

Comment Actions
- Reply
- Thread
1. kingkat12 on Chapter 11 Sat 01 Feb 2025 05:56PM UTC
  
  AHAHAHHA glad someone else gets it omggg😭 it was impossible to write a vampire story without mentioning twilight oop, but thank you so much for this lovely comment, I'm so glad to hear you enjoyed my story!!<33 MUCH more to come, sooner than you'd think!!
  
  Comment Actions
meowwww3333333333 on Chapter 11 Sun 26 Jan 2025 09:50PM UTC

I love your writing style sooo muchhh ughhh. Can’t wait for some updates (i need a new chapter more than I need oxygen)

Comment Actions
- Reply
- Thread
1. kingkat12 on Chapter 11 Sat 01 Feb 2025 05:58PM UTC
  
  AGHHH MWAH TO YOU FOR THIS COMMENT, and dw, your new dose of oxygen is actually dropping tonight!! currently doing the last adjustments, and then the new chapter will be out!!<333 thank you for your lovely comment, it's very touching to hear that u like my writing style aghhhh🥹 hope you'll enjoy it as much as you've enjoyed the rest!!<333
  
  Comment Actions
peach8543 on Chapter 11 Thu 30 Jan 2025 01:55AM UTC

Thank you so much for this aaa

Comment Actions
- Reply
- Thread
1. kingkat12 on Chapter 11 Sat 01 Feb 2025 05:55PM UTC
  
  ahhh nooo, thank YOU for ur comment!!<33 thank u for reading my story!!
  
  Comment Actions
peach8543 on Chapter 12 Sat 01 Feb 2025 09:33PM UTC

*making a cofres before reading*

Comment Actions
- Reply
- Thread
1. kingkat12 on Chapter 12 Fri 28 Feb 2025 09:55PM UTC
  
  gotta have a good reading ritual, amr??<333
  
  Comment Actions
peach8543 on Chapter 12 Sat 01 Feb 2025 09:43PM UTC

So Daniel is a wolf in sheep's clothing
I had my doubts about Letha, but this chapter really confirmed my suspicions...
She was waiting for this moment, when the protagonist would find out (or get very close to the truth) and she would put herself in the position of "the only trustworthy person" When she says: I'm glad you see that I'm only one that can help you.
So, Roman was right about Letha's intentions. Jesus. I wouldn't say she's a bad person, but if she were my friend, I would have found a way to tell the truth about the danger my best friend was in. I can't wait for these two to talk! I hope they get it together and it all ends in kisses (and other things).
Thanks for the chapter. I've been obsessed these days and read it here and on Tumblr too. I'll comment there too. The writing is wonderful and you deserve even more recognition!!!! ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

Comment Actions
- Reply
- Thread
1. kingkat12 on Chapter 12 Fri 28 Feb 2025 09:52PM UTC
  
  I've been so selfish and I've let this one stay unanswered in my inbox because I LOVED coming back to this every day to read your comment over and over, I'm so sorry😭🌸 this might genuinely be one of the coolest comments I've ever gotten, I cannot BELIEVEEE you went into such detail, and you best believe I've kicked my feet and giggled my ass off reading this!!!! your analysis is spot on, and there are very few people that have caught onto Letha being a bit of a grey area... SO THAT WAS SO EXCITING TO READ AHHHH!!!!! I've seen you been active on my Tumblr account as well so I might've said this already, but your comments always make my day and I'm so thankful that you take the time to write them, it really brightens everything up for me😭🥹🌸💕 I'm so glad you like the story so far, and thank YOU for this lovely message!!! I'm heartbroken to let this comment out of my inbox, but you best believe I will be revisiting this omg, thank YOUUUU!!<33333
  
  Comment Actions
2. 1. peach8543 on Chapter 12 Fri 28 Feb 2025 10:22PM UTC
    
    I like leaving comments, I think it's one of the best parts after reading. I plan to re-read his work again in its entirety and will comment on all of them. I'm happy that I was able to interpret the characters well and I can't wait for the next chapters. Your writing is cohesive and has an excellent rhythm. Wait for my other comments 🥺😅😆
    
    Comment Actions
  2. 1. kingkat12 on Chapter 12 Fri 28 Feb 2025 10:32PM UTC
      
      WHAAAAAT OH MY GOD??? YOU ARE TOO KIND OMG MY HEART IS BURSTING🥹🌸💕 actually luckily I JUST released the new chapter omg I rlly rlly hope you like it!!!!!! although do prepare to have ur heart ripped out..... I may or may not be evil, but I'm excited to hear what you think!!🥹
      
      Comment Actions
    2. 1. peach8543 on Chapter 12 Sat 01 Mar 2025 01:28AM UTC
        
        Oh my god 😧😧😧😧😧
        
        Comment Actions
        
        Reply
        
        Thread
        
        Parent Thread
      2. kingkat12 on Chapter 12 Fri 14 Mar 2025 08:02PM UTC
        
        that's all I kept saying when I was writing that chapter, believe me😭
        
        Comment Actions
        
        Reply
        
        Thread
        
        Parent Thread
FocusAndTheFuries on Chapter 12 Sat 15 Feb 2025 05:14PM UTC

I hope they are able to work it out. Letha and Daniel are grade A problem starters, and I understand her being scared, but she should know roman loves her. ❤️

Comment Actions
- Reply
- Thread
1. kingkat12 on Chapter 12 Fri 28 Feb 2025 09:55PM UTC
  
  EEK first and foremost, thank you so much for your comment!🥹💕 and omg yay, I'm always glad when people notice that Letha is a bit of a red flag in this story, and it's very very sweet of you to write this🥹🌸 thank you once again, hope you'll like the next chapter as well even though it's a little sad!!<333 (and dw because I'm making a book 2!! ahahha)
  
  Comment Actions
peach8543 on Chapter 13 Sat 01 Mar 2025 01:28AM UTC

I can't believe you posted the chapter while I was at the market buying food 😠😠😠 I arrived and there was the notification here... I'm going to read it now 😆

Comment Actions
- Reply
- Thread
1. kingkat12 on Chapter 13 Fri 14 Mar 2025 08:01PM UTC
  
  how very very rude of me, I apologize🤭
  
  Comment Actions
peach8543 on Chapter 13 Sat 01 Mar 2025 04:04AM UTC

Here we go *stretching*
First of all, your ability to write something extraordinarily painful and heartbreaking in a million pieces is incredible. It's a talent. (I'm good at writing comedies, but I'm still trying to write dramas, so I'm a little jealous, teach me pleaseeee 😔😔).
Secondly, I understand both. She feels betrayed and scared, she gave herself completely to a person who was hiding something from her and who used powers on her (without her consent). And worse, Roman planned to continue living with her without telling her the truth. (Does he really swear he would be able to hide everything for a decade?😤😤)
On Roman's side, he doesn't know how to deal with his feelings and he was really pushing everything away, trying to ignore everything and sweeping it under the rug. During this discussion, I got to see how young they both are, and how much Roman needs to mature about certain things.
If he had told her, she probably would have understood (although she would still be upset and terrified).
And I feel like the way Letra terrified the protagonist in the previous chapter about Roman and the dangers of the upir, put her in defense mode and she was already scared to death, meaning the conversation between these two would be terrible anyway 😡🤬😤
Thanks for the chapter, I can't wait for the next one 🥺😆

Comment Actions
- Reply
- Thread
1. kingkat12 on Chapter 13 Fri 14 Mar 2025 08:06PM UTC
  
  once again, I have kept this in my inbox all for myself, because this comment feels like that one last piece of ice cream you hide in the back of the freezer so that no one else in the family can get to it before you do😭💕 thank you SO SO much for you compliments, you are being so wonderfully kind and my brain cannot comprehend it😭🌸🩷 and to get back to your analysis-- ofc reader is scared, I think anyone would be considerably PISSED at well hearing that Roman would just keep her in the dark about it?? stupid stupid boy, what can I say😔 at the same time you gotta feel bad for him, because it's obvious that his whole world is very actively falling apart😭 I remember I literally cried when I wrote him getting down to his knees ouff I yanked my own heart out, there..... also, Letha is OBVIOUSLY not making anything any better, and I think that will be visible in the next chapter that I'll drop tonight;) THANK YOU FOR THIS AHHHHH THIS WAS SO COOL TO READ ONCE AGAIN😭✨💗
  
  Comment Actions
2. 1. peach8543 on Chapter 13 Fri 14 Mar 2025 08:50PM UTC
    
    🥰❤️
    
    Comment Actions
Nella (Guest) on Chapter 13 Wed 05 Mar 2025 02:44AM UTC

This is literally the best Roman Godfrey fic I have ever read!!! And omg my heart is breaking for Roman, please say they get a happy ending my heart can’t take it if they are not endgame. I can understand where the reader is coming from that she was hurt that Roman never told her he was a vampire but at the same time she needs to stop listening to Letha & start hearing Roman out, like you can clearly tell how much he really loves and cares for the reader and how much it hurts him when she listens to Letha more than him. I hope they get back together. Love this fic so much 🩷🩷🩷

Comment Actions
- Reply
- Thread
1. kingkat12 on Chapter 13 Fri 14 Mar 2025 08:10PM UTC
  
  AWWW thank you so so much🥹💗 this is so incredibly kind of you to say!! I have put a lot of time into this series, so it means a lot to me to hear this🥹 it was so interesting to hear your thoughts as well-- I can't give away the endgame, buuuut I can say that I'm a SUCKER for happy endings, so hopefully that is a relief to hear?🙈 I'm also glad to hear you understand both their point of views, that was really important for me to come across, so EEEEK happy it showed!!! thank you once again for your lovely comment, I hope you will like the chapter I release in like an hour as well, thank you thank you thank you for following the series!!!<333333
  
  Comment Actions
meowwww3333333333 on Chapter 13 Wed 21 May 2025 08:31AM UTC

ho, is u shakespeare? I saw the updates but I decided to wait for a few more so i could enjoy reading them at once and wow i wasn’t expecting to see a LITERAL MASTERPIECE ?? the whole chapter being filled with so much passion, pain and raw emotion made me cry, roman falling down on he’s knees scene was perfect (i love yearning) I’m super excited to read the rest, THANK YOU FOR BLESSING MY EYES!!

Comment Actions
- Reply
- Thread
1. kingkat12 on Chapter 13 Fri 06 Jun 2025 11:43PM UTC
  
  AWWWW STOP IT THIS IS SO SWEET!!!🥹💕 have been storing this little gem in my inbox for a little too long, THANK YOU SO MUCH!!!!!💕 this chapter was so hard to write, it took me like a month and I rewrote it seven times, so this means a lot!! I LOVE YEARNING TOO, hope you liked the rest and what's to come!!!🥹💕 MWAH MWAH
  
  Comment Actions

Actions

Work Header