He who fights with monsters might take care lest he thereby become a monster. And if you gaze for long into an abyss, the abyss gazes also into you. roman drake problem solver
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sometimes it’s “no one loves me” other times it’s “I am not brave enough to look those who love me in the eye”
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He decides he'll ask for a do over on the proposal if he's already getting one for the wedding. In a few weeks when he can actually kneel--he'll slide that ring onto her finger.
Her response is easy but Roman can hear the excitement in her tone as if their relationship had finally reached it's natural conclusion. Their story was hardly concluding, however. He was a man determined to live this beautiful life he had been gifted. How man years had been lost to anger and bitterness? To the all-consuming fear of being known that Roman had run from since the divorce? Being with Charlie had brought the color back into his life and the moments between their meetings had felt dull and lifeless.
"I knew you were gonna be trouble." It was the closest he could say to mirror the sentiment. He presses another kiss against her lips. "Just the kind of trouble I needed."
"You did?" Brows jumping high enough on her forehead it was like they were trying to escape into her hair, Charlie shifted to be sitting up a little more so she could could get a better look at him. "When...?" Did it matter? Heart jumping into her throat and stomach alight with butterflies to keep their baby company, the knowledge that he'd thought about it even before now was utterly the most amazing thing she'd ever heard in maybe her entire life.
Until he continued.
"Duh." Reaching down to take his face into her hands, Charlie tugs him upwards to meet her kiss, hands losing themselves into his hair as she smiled her love onto his lips. "I thought you'd never ask." Had only ever let herself dream it, and here now it was. It was funny how amongst all the chaos of the now, there could still be this most perfect moment. Roman, begging for her to be his wife, their child growing inside of her, and the rest of the world forgotten for dust glitter in the dusk light.
Resting her forehead against his own as she parted for breath, Charlie let her breathless exuberance breathe into the miniscule space between them.
"I knew from the first day we met, that I wanted to spend my life with you."
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for years roman had wrongly assumed that it was the hospital that tethered ruth to new york; that it was the source of gravity she orbited around, a mutual pull that kept them both from crashing through the atmosphere. how many hours of her life had she spent there? how much blood, sweat, and tears had she given?
it was never what she said that gave it away, rather, what she didn't. her attempts at keeping her feelings close to her chest had only confirmed roman's growing suspicions. ashton had always been the sun in ruth's galaxy and it was he who held the power to keep her upright or topple her to the ground. a responsibility roman didn't envy.
he holds her gaze to indicate he's listening, he's here for her to pour her confessions into like a man with a white collar choking his neck. as usual it's what she leaves unspoken that paints the picture of her fall. something long and ugly with no hint of the ground in sight. he knows the feeling.
before she says it he knows the question is coming. it's his turn to confess. slowly and all at once. "i was at bird's trying on dress clothes. tried to find something nice to wear to one of your banquets." the very ones he'd pretended not to know about a few hours earlier. that probably didn't look good on him.
"somewhere between the third and fourth button on my shirt i realized i was dangerously close to being in over my head."
there are certain conversation topics that she could return to time and time again. the last movie she'd watched, a concert she'd gone to, the latest gossip from the o.r. but the drinks have clouded her mind, leaving her with nothing more than the fizz of the soda can. when was the last time she'd watched a movie, listened to music, made a light-hearted mistake which did not immediately send a cascade of consequences.
"what?" she looks up quickly, catching his eyes in the bathroom mirror with an expression of bleak confusion. or perhaps just regular old confusion, with the added effect of red cheeks. she'd been stuck in her own head, pulled back from a fast approaching edge. she can't help but laugh, an awkward catch in the back of her throat as she listens to his compliment, and turns to face him. the ease of the obvious.
there's no use lying to roman. he would be able to tell the moment she got a word out. the first syllables all high-pitched and mangled, leaving little doubt to the accuracy of his questions. he's helping her this spin on the axis, and she can do the courtesy of the truth. as with all things in her life, it was nothing, until it was crashingly obvious they had been inevitable from the start.
"i don't know." she answers finally, clearing her throat to disguise the vulnerability of her words. as though admitting to something out loud changes anything at all. "the adolescent wing had this book all the kids were obsessed with, they described it pretty well." though she hadn't thought it applicable to her at the time. "slowly and then all at once." which— was just pathetic to hear out of her own mouth, the vibrations on the cool tile. what she didn't add, was how she'd been considering it was possible to fall and get back up, to find a new ledge to stand on, a new place to trip over.
he aims for her heart, because he knows just where to find it. she can't help the echo of the shot any more than he could have avoided asking in the first place, "how did you know with me?"
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there's something about the isolation of their new world that makes roman view the few connections he has in it in a new light. the people that he'd known from the wexley before the city fell had become prominent figures in his life. ruth, ashton, and charlie had become as close to roman as any family of his had ever been before, whatever that said about him.
"i'll stay." roman assures her with an easy nod, returning to the typical air of feigned nonchalance between them. he racks his mind for any number of the questions he's ever thought about asking; too many of them deemed crossing the line of social niceties that their acquaintance allowed for. if pressed, he couldn't come up with one damn reason as to why he picked the one he did.
"when did you fall for him?"
maybe it's something close to jealousy that accounts for the brashness but in the end he just wants ruth to know that someone sees it. despite ashton's apparent ignorance of the flame she carried roman saw the adoration that ruth held for him. roman and ruth were two signals stuck on pm while the world ran on am. ashton might never pick up her message but roman could make out the sweet sound.
"i mean, i don't blame you. he's a god damn disney prince." and ashton being her best friend on top of that? she was doomed from the start.
in the bathroom mirror she realizes the sight she’s become. her eyes are still watery and red, any makeup that might have brightened her expression was now rubbed off, revealing her tired pale face in the white lighting. were she the intro-spective type, this might have been the moment of pause to consider that the tears which kept pushing at the corner of her eyes were no longer because of an accident in the hallway. instead, she's given the distraction to her way though roman's words, her face shifting from shock to pink embarrassment before finally dissolving into relief, a hiccup of a laugh. "right."
she's usually the one making the jokes about losing a shirt, taking off clothes, the wording always framed to distract. their banter had settled some time ago into a high school language she hadn't known to use. "you saw right through me." she takes the soda water placing it on the counter with the towels before turning back to take the suit jacket. she's used to pulling his clothing off without asking, cutting through shirts and sweaters in order to get to the source of a problem. this is different, taking the offered article of clothing because it's on offer. "i didn't think you'd finally accept."
the jacket covers just enough for her to slip off the dress, the lace of a now frivolous bra peaking through the top button. it reveals less than her dress had, and yet she's vulnerable for the lack of choice, for the necessity of finally leaning on him after all this time. her dress is laid out like a patient, hands moving with nothing but surgical precision as she starts to dab at the stains.
"you don't have to stay," which is not the same as saying that she doesn't want the company. if this were a game of telling the truth, she would have to honestly state that she needed another presence in the room to keep her on task, to make sure that she fixes up her dress and goes right to bed. but, it has never been that. so she pours soda water on the garment and exhales. "i have it on good authority you're busy."
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He wished he could've given her the fairytale romance she deserved but their road had been rocky and uncertain and even now the path ahead would be wrought with hard times. But Roman could only promise her the present, and his hand in hers through whatever came next. It was pretty fuckin' scary for someone with commitment issues.
There's a smile in his voice when he tells her, "Charlie I got you a ring but I just can't wait--" He's apologizing as the words spill from his mouth and his aforementioned lack of romance continues. "Will you marry me? Please" The please is a soft reminder of how much he needs her, how vulnerable he's willing to be to show that to her from now on. No more secrets. No more pretending to be a stoic to shirk emotional responsibility.
Concerns that this was a stupid time to pop the question were quick to fill his mind and Roman regretted not at least getting down on one knee. Way to blow it at the start!
There's perfection in this moment, the golden light of gathering sunset illuminating specks of dust that hang in the air like glitter, catching and releasing the light in a slow drift through the quiet air around them. The whole world could have been gone in that moment, nothing but a void outside the walls, this moment drifting off into eternity, and she'd be happy. Happy with the gossamer sheers and firefly dust, his chest pressing on her thighs with each inhale, and the tug of resistance that came with her fingers gliding through his hair. A third heart beat among them.
"Us." The Roses. And he did fit right in with them, slotted there like part of the family, not matter how much JP might moan and gripe about it. Roman was a pea in their pod. "Roman Rose... I like it."
Listening as he painted the picture of their family, her fingers danced from his crown down the back of his neck and then back up once more. "June is going to be an amazing big sister. This baby is going to be so loved." So protected.
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A grimace tugged his face at Charlie's confession, too easily picturing the way she'd looked just weeks before, exhausted and sickly; The evidence of her emotional turmoil clear in the hollow of her neck or the sharp lines in her cheeks. The ghost of Charlie's image would haunt him as a painful reminder of the trust she'd given him with her heart. Nothing the insecurities inside his head could whisper would ever drive him to hurt Charlie like that again.
He could sense the hesitation in her tone but left it alone. For as much as Roman knew, the moments between him and Charlie were finite and the cosmic fluke that had led to him waking up in this bed would soon be undone. He didn't want to waste that time after all the years spent dancing around each other.
Roman watched her curiously as she turned off the lights and then returned to the bed, easing herself into it. She's met with little resistance when she repositions his head onto her stomach and when his vision starts to blur he worries that something's wrong only to realize that there are tears in his eyes. There's so much to be afraid of, so much that he stands to lose it makes his stomach twist to think about.
But he's not thinking about that.
Right now the only thing on Roman Drake's mind is how happy he is--How he never thought he could deserve to feel this happy. "Us? The Roses?" He inhales a wet breath and tries not to let her hear him crying. "Yeah... I'd really like that."
"Birdie's a really good aunt." He declares, full of emotion. They were going to do this. They were going to be a family. "And June, she'll never change a diaper but she's got a knack for getting her cousins to fall asleep."
"Nah... still too early for that. I get sick all the time, though, so that's fun." The relief was so monumental she almost felt high on it. Like for the first time she could truly breathe and the tension could slip away because not only was he alive but it seemed like he was okay.
"Yeah... Yeah. Everyone is okay." At least, everyone he meant, but for now that was good enough. He didn't need all the nasty details upon waking, and frankly, selfishly, Charlie didn't want to dwell on the, right then either. Getting up, she nodded to Mamode that he could go, assuring him in soft whispers and still shaky sign language, that she'd call him if anything happened.
Locking the door behind him and turning off the lights, the room was lit just with the light through the balcony doors and large window, diffused through pale purple sheers closed over them. Returning to the bed to crawl up into it with him, Charlie adjusted the pillows so she could gather him carefully into her. Head pillowed on her stomach above their baby, fingers dancing through his hair.
"We'll name it Rose... I like that." It meant a lot. "When we get married for real... are you going to take my name then?" Speaking low, hardly more than whisper for how close they were together, she memorized the peace of this moment to hold onto no matter what was to come.
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💬oscar
"Seems like a straight-arrow." Maybe Oscar came off as a little vanilla to Roman but to someone else that predictability could read as consistency and safety. "I'm glad there's people like him still left in the world. He's probably the closest thing to a friend I've had since all this shit started." And well before that, if he was being honest.
@survivalxofxthexfittest
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TRUTH What does a perfect future look like to you right now?
"My family, all of it, safe and alive and finding some semblance of peace in the world." He needed to build a home that he and Charlie and their baby could thrive in but that world wouldn't be complete without June and Hannah and Jp and Jeremiah, all their differences aside. "The chance to raise this baby to know love, kindness, and hope.." That was all he needed. The details didn't matter.
"I mean... it would be nice if dead people stayed dead again." Or if people could stop murdering each other on a semi daily basis. "But beggars can't be choosers."
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ruth didn't seem likely to be involved in a situation where someone would douse her with a drink on purpose ( and if by some circumstance that had been the case, roman would be having a strong fucking word with that someone ). but from her sniffling and attempts at regaining composure it was clear the details like who and how and why didn't matter as much as the fact that she was standing her wet and cold and sticky.
he nodded at her request but there was still a moment of hesitation before leaving her side to do as asked. roman returned behind the bar top and eyed the usually-empty shelves, stocked for the occasion, in search of soda water.
despite his frequent attempts at easy conversation with her over the years ( where's the best take-out place in the city? is he technically still a tourist with his frequent visits? how many subway rats could they each take in a fight? ) there had been a few very real and very raw moments between them that alluded to the aloof man he truly was under his charade.
moments like these. where he just didn't know what the hell to say.
roman followed her to the w's bathroom and offered the bottles of soda water in outstretched hands. he wasn't sure what her plan was ( wasn't sure she really had a plan right now ) but he'd do what he could. "you want my jacket? so you're not just.." standing alone in the bathroom cold and embarrassed in her underwear. the attempts at sincerity were feeling too intimate and roman searched for some levity in an attempt to get a pity laugh from her.
"unless you were hoping the night ended with you and me getting undressed, and in that case i'd have to remind you i'm in a very vulnerable state right now and you'll have to make love to me gently."
the pressure of the zipper releases, though the dress hardly falls away given the way it's stuck to her skin with lime juice and sugar. his question isn't met with an immediate answer, the tears which had subdued were almost back in full force. she didn't mean to look so bad, to have to close her eyes and see the expression of disappointment that had settled on his face.
she nodded finally, trying to wipe more of the remnants of upset off of her own face before she turns back around to face him. there's a few random towels that have been scattered on the bar top throughout the night, and she grabs them all, holding them to the front of her dress as she turns back around.
their relationship is not transactional. for so long the bank deposits that she'd found in her account after one of his visits had been an afterthought. the conversation, the practice, that was the material of them. this was, after all this time, new territory that they hadn't discovered.
"can you bring some soda water to the bathroom?" now she was the one asking and there was no lesson to be gained. it was just her need for one person who could help her. she imagines she's making it much worse that it needs to be, and yet the judgement is bypassed by her words, which seem to continue to tumble out: "i just need to get the stain out."
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There's battle lines being drawn And nobody's right if everybody's wrong Young people speaking their minds Are gettin' so much resistance from behind
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👥 Charlie's unborn baby
he's been singing to charlie's belly nearly every night. mostly the classics--cash, clearwater, springfield, jennings. his baby is going to have that old school swagger.
still pretty adamant he doesn't want charlie or the baby to take his last name which has been a point of contention between them. roman's suggestion was to keep rose as their last name in honor of jeremiah because he knows how much naming the kid after miah means to charlie ( but roman is not naming that kid jeremiah please don't do that to him )
roman's aware that the chances of him living to see this kid grow up are pretty slim. he doesn't want to be a faded memory or some words in a letter that the kid will have to read one day. he's been talking to june about what it means to be a big sister and how she can teach the baby all the silly games and traditions that roman had done with her. he can live on in her memory if nothing else.
he likes laying with charlie while she reads aloud to him and the baby. occasionally he might fall asleep... but the sentiment is there.
@pxtitxrosx
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Her confession had more of an effect on him than she would ever know. Roman had already failed as a husband once before and despite that Charlie still saw a future with him. There must be a better man buried deep inside of Roman that only Charlie had been able to see because he would never give himself the same grace ( and he was hard pressed to think of anyone besides her who would ).
Roman's face warmed with relief as his hand was pressed against Charlie's stomach. She was okay--they were okay. "They start kicking yet?" He wanted to feel the life they'd made. He wanted that baby to know that it's daddy was here and fighting like Hell to give their family a better world. 'Course that was easier said than done after the repeated ass-kickings Roman had received the past few months.. He rubbed his eyes hoping to ease the sting of the room's lights.
Fuck he felt old.
"June okay? And Hannah?" Roman's face faltered with the question. Hannah was a strong woman but she had a tendency to fall apart once she reached her limit. He had no doubts that Birdie would be alive and his concern for her was more so hoping she'd stayed out of trouble these past few days.
"Careful." Hovering hands prepared to help should he need it, Charlie knew he'd want to try for himself, relaxing as he settled into a more alert position. Adjusting his pillows behind him to give him a little more support, she nodded her head with a rather losing attempt at not letting the stress of it show around her eyes. He didn't need to be worried about her right now.
"Yeah, well..." Smile soft as she brushed some of the hair off his forehead and drank in the long awaited sight blue of his eyes. The longer the coma had dragged on, the less sure she'd been that she'd ever see it again. "If death was about to do us part, I wanted it to be as your wife." Cheeks warm and smile almost a little bashful despite everything, Charlie brushed a bit of hair behind her ear and gave a bit of a nod.
"Considering you're still kickin'... I'd really like that." Leaning forward to press the most gentle of lingering kisses to his lips, there was a mist over her eyes that she had to blink away as she did. Gingerly lifting his hand and moving it to her stomach, she offered him a happily bleary little smile. "We both love you, and we missed that grumpy face." So much had happened, so much bad to tell him about, but for now... for upon waking... she wanted it to be to at least a little bit of happiness.
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He felt like a man drowning and try as he might, he couldn't get enough of Charlie to quell the ache in his lungs. Roman's hand cupped her ass as he held her up and against himself, lips kissing across her skin as he blindly navigated the apartment to find somewhere with purchase for the increasingly desperate fantasies in his head.
Once he sat Charlie down on the kitchen counter he was able to help her lift the half-removed blouse over her head and Roman was quick to give attention to the revealed skin of her chest and stomach. He kept her body close to his so he could continue to press his growing bulge into her for mutual friction. Hands fumbled with the clasp of her bra and he was relieved when he felt her own come to the rescue and undo the piece he'd begun to struggle with. A small laugh escaped him at the fumble but it was quickly replaced with a low groan when his hands covered her soft breasts.
"You're so beautiful," his thumbs ran over her nipples and Charlie's cheeks pinked just as he'd hoped. Roman removed one hand from her chest and brought it between them to stroke the pale skin of her thigh, sliding into the fabric of her skirt to find the front of her panties. His lips took Charlie's nipple into his mouth before Roman slid a finger gently inside of her. The wetness he was met with had him adding another and stroking the inside of her while rocking his hand.
He wanted her to feel good, to feel loved. To know that putting up with all his fuck-ups had been worth it because he was here, for her, and the life they were going to have together would be so beautiful.
Even now in her room on the higher floor, the decorated shoebox that held every single card was nestled safely in the back of one of her drawers. The most precious of her keepsakes, the edges of them curled from being picked up and read a hundred thousand times over the years. For all that they'd danced around each other, she'd been his the entire time, and Charlie knew now more than ever that he'd been hers as well. They'd both been so silly not to admit it, to wait so long to.
Despite it all. Despite the trauma and pain that came with the end of the world, they were finding remnants of their shared dream for the life they'd wanted, and were patchworking it together over the obstacles of the apocalypse.
For all that the world was tearing them apart, separately and as a unit, they still found each other. Thrived off each other. And now after a desert of disconnection they'd found the oasis of each other and the desperation to drink in of each other was all consuming. Hands and mouths grasping and clawing, breaths heated stolen gasps through the thickness of passion.
His apology, his declaration was met with a locking of her hooded gaze on his own, lips broken apart from each other, swollen and sensitive enough to feel her heartbeat in them. A nod, an acceptance, and then a renewed devouring of his mouth, a leg lifting in offering to be lifted so she could wrap herself around his waist.
She'd never need to a part of him so badly, hurried fingers starting frenzied work of trying to removed the layers from between them.
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💬 + miss bird!
"i'm proud of her." he wasn't sure if he'd ever told her that. he wasn't sure if he ever could. "i think it's obvious that she's smarter than me but in a lot of ways she's stronger, too." self-assured to a fault. they were polar opposites in that regard. "she didn't let all this... shit.. weigh her down." she'd built a life for herself that revolved around more than her shitty childhood. if only roman could say the same.
"look she's gonna have my balls if i get any more sentimental than that."
@birdiedrake
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📨 for a text my muse would send to yours.
EVER WONDER WHAT MY MUSE SAYS ABOUT YOURS? @ashton-ryder
[ → ] it's drake. the doctor's out. [ → ] she told me you could patch me up if she was busy. [ → ] do you know how to set a broken nose?
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Jake Gyllenhaal
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