make your heart steel

His brows knit. To him, Roman sounds like a boy that can be knocked down a few pegs. He follows the other’s eyes and sees Roman’s last name plastered on the white tower. Or at least that’s what it looks like to him and he takes a guess that Roman is associated with the local wealth he heard about. There’s a sort distinct expression of disgust. Wealth makes people cold. Heartless. He’s experienced more ugliness in a human that possesses money then those who do not.

"Shame."

It was true, Roman could stand to be put in a better suited place for him but it had been tried before and it never worked. It probably never would.

His features paint a picture of the boy being more irritated than curious about the comment. Still, he asks, "How's it a shame?" Some people might have thought that he was just lucky that he was so rich. Others might have thought the pressure of running a company like that was too much for an eighteen year old. Either way, no one really knew what it was like to be a Godfrey unless they were a Godfrey. They just thought about it.

Louis eyes Roman in their silence and rubs at his throat where the pin prick scars flush at his touch. His eyes catch the reflection of people passing them by on the sidewalk across the street, then he closes them in an attempt to stave off dinner time.

”I am Louis.”

He guesses the other is piqued now by his presene and he returns the question mutually because he’s interested in knowing more about the youth that just threw a tantrum.

”Who are you?”

Through his slightly blurry vision, Roman could still register the look on the blond's face too-- like maybe they were experiencing something similar. He chose not to believe it though, just breathing in and out another puff of smoke before his eyebrows raised in surprise. Did he really not know who he was? He could barely remember the last time someone didn't recognize him as being the wealthiest little brat around.

"Roman Godfrey." The upir's reply almost sounds questioning, like he's waiting for Louis to go 'ooooh' as most people do. His head even turns slightly as his eyes instinctively go towards the direction he knows the White Tower will be.

#;rich boy.#roman godfrey: a boy who wants to be a hero but looks like a villain #like really all slumped over in that chair with a fucking cat

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#;music.#;this charming man.

Louis catches the cigarette pack and fumbles with it in his shaky fingers. He nods in thanks and settles with the cigarette in between is full lips before handing it back to the other, of course not without his fingers extended for his own lighter. Moistening his lips with some difficulty, he opens his silent mouth as if he could physically say something.

The hybrid sucks in air past his teeth before forcing the glamor to speak for him, “Thanks.” The magic is difficult for him to process. It leaves him drained. Hungrier. Angrier.

The upir shifts his weight between his feet like he's mentally weighing something. He should probably get away from the blond soon before he does something bad like rip into his neck and leave him unable to walk or something else that would be horrible and tragic. He needed to find someone that no one would miss, and soon.

He allows some time to pass in silence after they've gone through the motions before Roman gets a little curious. He's never seen this person around before.

"What's your name?"

#(in poor taste.)#(self promo.)#womp womp womp reblogs again sorry bye

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He itches for a cigarette. Seeing Roman with one reminds him of some one else and he has to look away for a moment. He makes a gesture that signifies if Roman could spare one. Just one. Before a meal, Louis feels like a junkie, itching and scratching, shaking and desperate. A hunger like this isn’t right. Nicotine helps. Before getting all wrung out Louis was fine. He was on the ball. Recovering. Now he’s a mess looking for a fast meal.

Roman sucks in a deep breath through he cigarette and his eyes appear to be going a bit cross eyed so that he can stare at the burning end of the stick. It hardly does anything to calm him but it feels enough like a distraction for now. He keeps the smoke between his lips as he pulls himself out of his head for a moment to hand the lighter back to the stranger.

When he registers the look given to him, his eyebrows raise and he pulls the item from his lips to speak more clearly. "What, do you want one?" He didn't get why the guy didn't just ask. He doesn't bother waiting for an answer before he pulls the pack out and tosses it at the other.

The angelic imitation watches Roman with a sort of amusement he can’t name. Approaching with hands in the pockets of his hoodie, he eyes the other. Perhaps they weren’t so different. Pulling a lighter out, he offers it to the other quietly since there is no other way for him to, the devil himself spooked away his voice not too long ago.

Roman was more or less embarrassed by his little outburst but he also felt that he didn't have the capacity for embarrassment right now. Most people already thought that he was some psychopathic freak anyways, and his increasingly frequent scenes weren't helping that. In his defense tough, it hadn't been long since his transformation into a full upir. He looks the other up and down and hesitates before pushing off of his car to take the lighter from him with more delicate hands than one would think.

The Godfrey gives a nod of thanks as he pulls his now slightly crinkled cigarette back to his lips and lights it.