Post by starrea on May 16, 2020 16:31:01 GMT
Out of all of things Roman regretted last night, sleeping with Caspian was not one of them. He hadn’t started drinking by then so the memories were delectably clear and he could practically hear Caspian scream out his name. The way he had looked at Roman then... it had been with acceptance and desire. It was nothing like the way Caspian had looked at him after... after whatever Roman had said. It was frustrating that he couldn’t quite remember.
Roman gave Caspian a weak smile at his reassurances. Whatever he had said hadn’t completely shattered their relationship but that was hardly comforting. Roman had plenty of secrets darker than Raevaryn’s struggles and it was terrifying not knowing which one he had spilled to Caspian. If he was truly that loose around Caspian while drunk, then he needed to just swear off alcohol altogether. He wasn’t sure he could handle Caspian looking at him like that ever again and he knew that that memory was going to haunt him indefinitely.
Roman looked at the water Caspian pushed towards him but didn’t touch it. Caspian’s vague description only made him more nervous. He usually didn’t care what others thought about him, but there were a lot of things he had done that Caspian didn’t need to know about. Caspian was too soft, too sheltered from the violence of Roman’s life and he wanted to preserve that.
Trying to push through the memories was like wading through thick mud but all of a sudden, everything came into focus. The realization of what he had told Caspian left him shocked. He couldn’t remember the last time he had made a mistake of this caliber and shame hit him like a ton of bricks. The need to punish himself bubbled up urgently - something else he hadn’t felt since he was a teenager. Pain would sharpen him, pain would remind him of the consequences of being too relaxed, too trusting.
“I... shouldn’t have told you that. I shouldn’t have told you what I’ve done.” Roman said slowly. What he had told Caspian only scratched the surface of Roman’s past. The number he had told Caspian didn’t include the people whose death’s he was responsible for but didn’t actually die by his hand. It didn’t include the deaths he had watched or the what he had done to others but left them alive. The number didn’t tell the story of where he had come from and what he had gone through as a child. It was just a very small piece of Roman, and he was terrified of Caspian seeing more. His self preservation kicked in and he pushed the chair back from the table hastily and stood up.
“I should really leave.” He mumbled. He needed to clear his damn head and indulge in some self discipline. Pain would make him stronger. Pain would prevent this from happening again.
Roman gave Caspian a weak smile at his reassurances. Whatever he had said hadn’t completely shattered their relationship but that was hardly comforting. Roman had plenty of secrets darker than Raevaryn’s struggles and it was terrifying not knowing which one he had spilled to Caspian. If he was truly that loose around Caspian while drunk, then he needed to just swear off alcohol altogether. He wasn’t sure he could handle Caspian looking at him like that ever again and he knew that that memory was going to haunt him indefinitely.
Roman looked at the water Caspian pushed towards him but didn’t touch it. Caspian’s vague description only made him more nervous. He usually didn’t care what others thought about him, but there were a lot of things he had done that Caspian didn’t need to know about. Caspian was too soft, too sheltered from the violence of Roman’s life and he wanted to preserve that.
Trying to push through the memories was like wading through thick mud but all of a sudden, everything came into focus. The realization of what he had told Caspian left him shocked. He couldn’t remember the last time he had made a mistake of this caliber and shame hit him like a ton of bricks. The need to punish himself bubbled up urgently - something else he hadn’t felt since he was a teenager. Pain would sharpen him, pain would remind him of the consequences of being too relaxed, too trusting.
“I... shouldn’t have told you that. I shouldn’t have told you what I’ve done.” Roman said slowly. What he had told Caspian only scratched the surface of Roman’s past. The number he had told Caspian didn’t include the people whose death’s he was responsible for but didn’t actually die by his hand. It didn’t include the deaths he had watched or the what he had done to others but left them alive. The number didn’t tell the story of where he had come from and what he had gone through as a child. It was just a very small piece of Roman, and he was terrified of Caspian seeing more. His self preservation kicked in and he pushed the chair back from the table hastily and stood up.
“I should really leave.” He mumbled. He needed to clear his damn head and indulge in some self discipline. Pain would make him stronger. Pain would prevent this from happening again.
