ouroboros;
unity related to something existing in or persisting from the beginning with such force or qualities it cannot be extinguished. the eternal return.
roman awoke with a gasp. it was daylight. he was propped up against the cab of the truck, ” … peter? ” he voiced groggily. before recalling that the night before had been a full moon.
long fingers drag across his face, trying to pull him from that place between dream and reality. deciding that a cigarette would help, he dug into his pockets for his pack and couldn’t find it ” fuck, “
strike one.
after a few more minutes, roman got out of the truck, and walked into the woods a couple feet. there was a fog on the air. which made the search for peter’s clothes difficult… have spent at least 10 minutes searching before he gave up entirely. peter had other clothes,
strike two.
” where are you peter…? ” he practically growled impatience, and unsettling turn of his stomach before peter turned last night - they had been talking about something….something being not right. the sun had fully risen over the horizon peter was usually back by now…
strike three.
” PETER ” roman’s voice was loud and desperate. carrying through the trees like light carries through the d a r k & and he began to run.
—- ωσℓƒ ⊱
it’s been a long night. too long, in his opinion. the anxiety the two felt before his change didn’t dwindle at all. if anything it pushed his change sooner– he ran. oh, how he ran. it felt so GOOD to run again, but even his wolf was on edge. on edge and anxious and hungry the moment it stumbled upon a body. a body of a young woman. one he wouldn’t recall until he woke with blood on his hand, his chest, his mouth.
had he fed? had he killed?
Peter panicked and he couldn’t understand just what had happened… he needed Roman. he needed his soul mate in that moment and he needed the comfort and reassurance that he wasn’t bad. ❝ Roman… ❞
( RUN )
and run he did. toward the last place he remembered. the truck, the road, and his best friend. though he was swiftly side tracked by the rising sun and the… oh, was that his pile of clothing? some. at least he had his pants. that was something. taking a moment to slip them on, he was about to run again when he heard the familiar pit-pat of shoes against the Earth. Roman!
the teen smiled despite himself, despite his fear.
❝ ROMAN ❞ he barks in return to the distant echo of his name gone unheard earlier.
and there he was. and there Peter was racing toward him and nearly stumbling over his own bare feet. what would he think? what would he say? of course, Peter didn’t recall that he hadn’t been the one to kill the girl… and he wouldn’t for at least a short while… but his wild and frightened eyes had to be enough for Roman to realize something terrible had happened.
❝ i think i fucked up. ❞
like a bullet, peter’s fear shot through him down both their spines to settle into that place. the one peter always talked about...in his balls roman’s of course, was more a sympathetic feeling he was no wolf.
as they closed the space between them, roman’s long arms reached out and to grasp peter’s shoulders firmly looking deep into the shorter, scruffier man’s eyes searching, searching, s e a r c h i n g
“no,” he said, he didn’t know how he knew but those blue-green hues couldn’t lie to him he just knew....
“no it wasn’t you i know, i know you peter are you okay? are you hurt?” finally roman’s eyes dropped looking over the boys bare chest for wounds, there were flecks of blood, which was usual after a turn but he looked alright and with peter’s own confirmation of being fine, roman pulled him in close for a hug. which despite their closeness was a rare occurrence.
we will always return, to one another we will always return to this
“you found your pants,” his voice was like a commendation for achieving something that he hadn’t earlier. as he pulled away and started leading peter back in the direction of the truck “so what happened last night? anything?” there was a trace of worry in his voice.
