@rustruin CONTINUED FROM THIS.
roman had never been known for kindness or an ability to hold onto friends. he had few enough in school, though his popularity might have made it seem otherwise. so much had happened - and perhaps that was all it was that had connected the two of them. maybe it was all in their heads, their closeness, but roman didn't believe it. never had he shared dreams, prophecies even, with another. they were connected, that much had been clear to him from the moment that peter had come to hemlock grove. and when he'd left, he'd torn himself away, leaving a festering wound for roman to clean up without warning. and no matter how angry he'd become, if it had been anyone else trying to coerce their way back into his life, roman wouldn't have had the patience for it. the door would have been closed long ago, and should they have continued to push, he wouldn't have been afraid to go to extremes. but this was peter. he could already feel forgiveness trickling through him, the ache of that wound beginning to close at his return, no matter how much roman pushed it back. he wanted to stay angry! he wanted to fume and stomp and throw his arms in the air! after all, what was stopping him from leaning in to his true nature? he had fangs, why not use them? but the second the thoughts slide into his mind, they're washed over with a wave, already fading back and away. ire is replaced instead by the way the other smells and the disbelief at himself for ever forgetting such a scent. he hangs onto his disgruntled attitude as much as outwardly possible, arms crossing over his chest as he puts his wall up. i fucked up. he doesn't let his softness show, jaw clenching, brows still forrowed as he stares at peter, watching his sudden stress. "sounds about right," he mumbles with a shake of his head, licking his lips, but gaze returns to the other. he's been good at keeping up his facade thus far, but the words that come out of peter's mouth are the last thing he's expecting. his jaw relaxes until his lips part in a gentle o, arms slow to unfold and return to his sides, and once he stills, he becomes frozen solid. peter's words echo in his mind as he tries to make sense of it. roman finally blinks, gaze flickering over him, waiting for more information.
the frown returns, and he shakes his head, slapping a palm down on the counter. "how the fuck would you know that? huh? what the fuck are you on? she's dead. i saw her die." but he knows peter wouldn't come here to spin some lie. if he'd been desperate for money he would have just asked, not make up some insane story. his voice drops to a whisper and he presses his thumb between his teeth. "i saw her die..."
