Finally, as daylight softens the room, he relaxes.
***
I wake with the sun in my eyes and Roman still holding me. I put my hand over his and start stroking with my thumb. He takes a deep breath behind me. He’s awake. Maybe he has been this whole time.
When he starts to disentangle himself from me, I start to push myself up, but he growls softly. I settle and let him get up. He slides out of the bed and goes into the bathroom. I hear the water run, then he comes back with two towels, one damp and one dry.
I gasp and sit up when I get my first look at his torso in the daylight. “Oh my god, Roman.”
There are multiple circular bruises on his chest and abdomen. They’re dark purple. They look really, really bad.
Roman doesn’t respond to my exclamation. He just gets back on the bed and pushes my shoulder until I lie down on my back. He settles between my legs and starts cleaning the traces of cum from my stomach and chest. I try to relax and let him work, but I can’t stop staring at the bruises. At least they’re just bruises, but fuck.
Roman cleans my cock. He’s gentle, but he won’t meet my eyes. He’s controlled, but he’s upset. He parts my cheeks to clean my hole. In some ways, thecare is more intimate than sex, but it’s one-sided. It’s him touching me. He doesn’t want me to touch him, I can tell. Maybe that’s why the tears well in my eyes. Or maybe it’s because he hasn’t said a word and I don’t know how far back he’s gone in his mind.
He notices quickly. I can see the torment in his eyes, but he’s still only sort of looking at me. He does, however, pull me up. That’s enough permission for me, and I launch myself into his arms. I cling to him. He holds onto me too, but he’s not relaxed.
We need to talk, but I don’t know how to begin.
I pet his hair, like he so often pets mine. I whisper, “I know you’re trying to come back to me.”
A harsh breath stutters into him. He presses his face into the crook of my neck.
“It’s okay,” I say softly. “It’s okay.”
His chest starts heaving against me. His arms are tight around me now. I keep petting his hair as shudders start going through him. It takes a long time for them to pass.
When his body finally relaxes, I ask, “Can we shower?”
I don’t know if he’s ready. He brought the towels and cleaned me up because he didn’t want me to leave the bed, but I think we need to move forward a little. I know how he can get stuck like this.
Roman takes a deep breath, then he gets up off the bed, pulling me with him. We walk into the bathroom, where he goes to turn on the shower.
He still won’t look at me.
He never does, not all through the shower. He doesn’t want me to touch him either. He doesn’t forbid it, but I can tell.
He still hasn’t said a word.
After we’re done and have gotten dressed in clean clothes, I tell him that I’m hungry. He nods. He indicates for me to stay, but I start walking with him to the door. He stops. He puts his hand out as though to hold me back, but I just take his hand in mine.
“We’re not doing that again,” I tell him. I don’t want to regress all the way back to our first days here when he wouldn’t let me leave this room. “Please, Roman.”
He takes a deep breath. Then he opens the door and leads me out.
TWELVE
Roman
I lead Lucas down the hallway to the stairs, and we walk down to the mess of the sitting room. The body is gone, and the broken furniture has been set aside for removal, but the floor is damaged and so is the drywall. The worst of the blood is gone, but not all of it.
From the corner of my eye, I watch Lucas take in the sight. His eyes don’t even widen. He knows what I am.
He wasn’t shocked last night either. He didn’t mind my aggressive behavior.
I don’t know why I’m upset about it. I guess because … it felt so good. But at the same time, it felt bad too.
I don’t know how to sort through it. I don’t know how to transition out of it. I don’t know what I’m supposed to transitionto.
