I never knew I could have a favorite sound, but as I lay in the silence of the room, I realize that nothing could ever compare to the sound of Roman’s beating heart.
For my comfort, Roman leaves the blinds open at night, allowing the bright lamps from outside to shine in the room, so I’m never left in the dark.
It may hinder his sleep, but he’s willing to go through it for me.
Roman’s willing to go through a lot for me.
Just so I’m happy…
“I don’t deserve you,” I whisper into his chest, giving his pec a tender kiss before moving back to my spot to face the door.
The clock reads three forty-five in the morning, hours before Roman will even begin to stir awake.
Watching the shadows dance on the wall from the trees swaying outside of our window, I let my thoughts drift to the moment Roman and I shared earlier this evening.
I felt a slight surge of power zipping through my veins as I watched Roman pant for me. The desire I feel for him drenched my center until it flooded my hand, but then the crippling sensation of anxiety began clawing up my throat, and that second of power was snuffed out like a wick.
I didn’t want to stop because I could see the excitement swirling in his eyes, and Roman has been more than patient with me and my lack of sexual drive.
He deserved for me to try.
It’s ingrained in my mind that I have to please, and if I don’t, then I will be punished.
I know it’s not that way with Roman, but that way of thinking has been forced on me for years. I can’t just stop thinking that way… no matter how hard I try.
At the beginning of our heated moment, I could push through my anxiety and focus on the feeling of Roman’s lips on my skin, reminding myself that he’s Roman, and this is fine.
This is supposed to be acceptable.
But once my eyes fell shut, the world dissipated under me, and I couldn’t pretend I was okay anymore.
Maybe time will heal me, but maybe not. I don’t want to lie in bed for another five hours and stare at the wall, and I can’t go out in the living room because Ash is sleeping after another night washed away with liquor. So, very quietly, I open the drawer to the table beside me and stick my hand inside, pulling out the phone I never use but always keep charged.
As I power it on, I’m blinded by the bright white light glowing from the screen. Quickly, I drop the phone to the sheet, not wanting to disturb Roman by shining the glare in his face.
Shuffling under the blanket, I squint against the luminescent screen and dim the settings.
Once my vision returns to normal, I open the internet application on my phone and search for the national news.
I probably shouldn’t be looking for updates on Roman’s case this late at night, but my mind won’t let me relax until I make sure nothing more has been found.
The same articles from before are there, along with one new search from The Daily Chronicle at the very top of the page.
The sight of it makes my heart falter.
Not giving my brain the option to overthink, I click the article and hold my breath while it loads.
My exhale releases slowly as my eyes skim the story, the boulder sitting at the bottom of my stomach fading to nothing as I see this investigation falling apart before my eyes.
“No updates have been made on the murder of Augustus sheriff, John McLaren. Police continue to investigate, but at this time, no new leads have been reported, and hope for justice seems to be dwindling down to nothing.”
He doesn’t deserve justice.
The relief in my system from their lack of information is intoxicating, giving me a high I’ve never felt before.
I reach behind me and give Roman’s chest a tender rub, saying quietly that he’s going to be okay.
We’re going to be all right.
