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thistlerock · 2 months ago

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I think Gorgug grows up trying to take up as little space as possible.

I think that as a child, before he was all that conscious of his own decisions, he broke a lot of stuff. That's fine, small children do that and his parents have had him since he was a baby. A huge baby, especially for gnomes. A huge baby that grew into a toddler the size of his parents who's (again, normal and okay) tantrums did actual property damage because he's an orc. They were never mad at him for it, they'd never be mad at a child experiencing big emotions and not yet able to process them or understand consequences, but we know how their families reacted to that. We know that they always saw him as something that would grow up to be a threat.

I think that pretty much as soon as he develops a sense of it Gorgug starts feeling ashamed. He's ashamed of how nothing ever fits right, and of how loud he gets when he's upset, and of how the other kids in the neighbourhood (because it's a small folk neighbourhood!!) get scared of him sometimes, and of how when he has bad dreams he breaks his bed and is unable to control himself, like a baby. There was probably a time where he thought he was really clumsy and he was ashamed of that too, but by the time he turns like twelve Gorgug kind of understands that he's not more clumsy than the average kid, it's just that every time he drops something or bumps into a shelf it'll do so much more damage than if anyone else he lives around were to do the same.

(And his parents are talented tinkerers but sometimes their work is so delicate and all he ever does is wreck things. He doesn't dare touch it no matter how much they try to share this passion with him — eventually they assume he just doesn't like it and they would never force him to do something he doesn't want. Gorgug doesn't let himself discover how much he enjoys it until sophomore year. I wonder if he regrets all those years he spent fearing the possibility of ruining things and depriving himself of something he ended up loving.)

(And he was never "stupid", it's just that all he ever thought himself of was a brute so he never entertained the possibility of his own intelligence until faced with it. He didn't know he could thrive academically so it wasn't something he ever considered committing to. He literally just played bloodrush because he was good at it, not because he liked it. He just thought he had to, and he thought math is something he couldn't possibly do. Why try?)

Entering Highschool Gorgug is very shy, and he doesn't really have friends. Adults always like to blame the latter on the first, but sometimes it's the other way around and sometimes it's a vicious cycle. Sometimes you're six years old and none of the kids in your elementary school class are anything like you but you desperately try to fit in until you slip up and show them how much of a freak you are one time (I think he got mad. I think he broke a table. I think someone cried. I think maybe there was a teacher who was so much smaller than him and looked at him as if he were something to be feared. I think that in that moment he decided that he is. Or at least his rage, maybe.) and then you never get to have friends again and you shrink in on yourself and you don't understand how anyone else does it — it's not even that you're scared you just don't understand, and maybe you just want to be alone. And then a happy outspoken child grows into a shy teenager because they don't have any friends.

I think Gorgug is careful. He is so gentle and empathetic and kind and he is so careful because every time he isn't something breaks. And every time he raises his voice someone is scared of him and all he ever wants is people to not be afraid. So he hunches over, and he stands in the corner, and he scoots to the very edge of the bench so you don't have to sit too close to him, and he takes every insult to his face without fighting back lest he'll get upset and despite all his fucking efforts all it takes is one asshole to take it too far and he feels himself snap and all he wants to do is break something and hurt and twist and kill. And that scares him. He doesn't allow himself to be angry (and as wonderful as Digby and Wilma are they don't understand. They don't understand that he has to be, that he has to let it out some time.) so he bottles it up and every time it explodes out of him he doesn't know how to handle it other than to swing his axe and kill maul bite snarl kill.

But then, his adventuring party seems to not mind his rage, or his size, or his freakish strength. If anything they seem to like it, or at least respect him for it. He's never considered doing something like music before because that's for talented people and it's art and he doesn't do art because his hands are only good for destruction, not creation. Right? He does the music anyway. It's nice because there he's allowed to be angry on the drums and no one thinks it's weird.

He meets a girl that finds his rage attractive and he was scared that he'd scared her but he didn't. Ragh becomes one of his dearest friends and maybe for the first time Gorgug looks at a raging (half-)orc — all snarling and panting and bearing his teeth and twitching at any sound or scent — and doesn't find himself appalled because all he sees is someone that's fighting to keep him and his friends safe. And oh, maybe it's okay to be enraged.

I think he grows into a young man that doesn't love being angry but stops hating it too. He likes, in a way, that he gets angry over the right things, and he likes that being angry enables him to protect those he cares for. In the end his rage is a survival instinct and it's good to be alive. That leads to him, for a while, only accepting his rage as something that's fine to express in combat, and if it's outside of combat then only to his friends. There's still this need to make himself palatable, to tone himself down so everyone stays comfortable around him, but that also fades eventually.

During junior year he does finally come out of his shell enough to just express his anger the second he feels it. I think it is liberating and it's also the scariest thing he's ever done, and he went through a forest that made him confront his deepest fears already. (And that's exactly what it was. The inconvenience to his parents, the fear it strikes in others, the rejection it brings, the way it seems to reduce him to a weapon or maybe a wild animal and to some people including parts of him means he absolutely cannot be an intelligent or loveworthy person. He's always been afraid of his own rage.)

I think that if a younger Gorgug could see his older self snarl at one of his friends for making a joke about his parents' lawnmower, with his tusks fully grown out and muscle finally starting to fill out his clothes a little, so strong and so dangerous and so unashamed of it, he'd feel no relief and only horror. I think acceptance is something that feels alien to him right up until he suddenly achieves it.

#dimension 20 #fantasy high #rambling into the void #gorgug thistlespring #headcanons #digby and wilma thistlespring #somewhere I need to add that parts of this can be a very real experience for young men of colour #and he's adopted and. and. god you understand #probably men in general and definitely poc in general but the overlap makes it worse #something something if your anger isn't palatable it means they were 'right' about you. so you can't express anger at being wronged #but hey insane thing to hide in the tags of my post abt a teenage orc who goes to magic Highschool #what do I know am I right

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kingkat12 · 26 days ago

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unclean (roman godfrey x reader)

WARNINGS: angst, jealousy-schemes, mentions of sex, weird biblical references lol, ANGST (ouch ouch ouch)

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.

word count: 6,150 (warming y'all up for the last chapter oop)

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°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･seven minutes in heaven masterlist

a/n: THANK YOU FOR 1K FOLLOWERS!! enjoy the second-to-last chapter and the calm before the absolute shitstorm;) MWAH, thank you for all your support my lovelies!!<333

"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.

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.

"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.

(a/n: AHHH I can't WAIT for y'all to see what's gonna go down at the party!! this was like a teeny tiny little appetizer... omfg. thank you so so much for reading this far!! 🥹💕)

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