hare

she/her | 18

masterlist

fandoms: boyliife, arcane, tlou, yellowjackets, zeroday, skins, twd, twdg, passenger, ointb

music: bjork, KMFDM, fiona apple, descendants, rommulas (hes good idc), radiohead, sunami, kittie, hole, you’ll never get to heaven, vs self, train breaks down, crystal castles, NIN, Outta Pocket, Catalyst…, Oakwood, TOOL, Massive Attack, Los Crudos, teen suicide, adolescents

artists i've seen live: bjork, radiohead, the smile, nick cave, hoover phonic, placebo, alex g, integrity, and a bunch of local punk/metal bands

my blog: ill mostly stick to fanfics of whatever I like at the moment. I take reqs and I’ll about almost anything as long as its not some creep shit. I’m inconsistent bc school is kicking my ass right now.

childhood bestfriend!roman x reader - chapter 1 wc: 5900 cw: underage weed consumption synopsis: you and Roman met each other when you were 7 after a not-so-pleasant encounter at the park. You became inseparable after that. In the many years of friendship you developed feelings for Roman, but you somehow managed to keep them hidden. It was all in vain, however, as your friendship ended a couple of days before graduation. After four years of not hearing from him, you meet him at a party you were working at as a photographer, lighting up a flame you didn't know was still burning inside, buried and long forgotten. author's note: new series!!! hope you guys like this :3 sorry for disappearing for a while, i've been really busy. hopefully i'll remember to update this regularly,,, also all my fics are gonna be based off songs just letting yall know.

2011

Air grazed your skin aggressively as your legs moved at speeds you didn’t even know were possible. Trees and people blurred past as you ran – you didn’t have time to stop for anything in the world.

Suddenly, a small twig appeared in front of you, and before you could notice it, you toppled over, falling face first into the grass. Laughter surrounded you, coming from all parts and you slammed your small fist against the wet grass, angry at your own incompetence.

A shadow appeared over you, blocking the warm light rays from the sun. A hand extended towards you, offering help.

You looked up to see a boy. He had dark, messy hair and deep, soft eyes. He was wearing a large white shirt with blue jeans. You had seen him before when walking around the neighborhood with your parents, but you never really spoke to him.

Although you were taught to never trust strangers, the other kids in the park were catching up to you. You couldn’t lose the game. So in a leap of faith, you grabbed the boy’s hand and got back up on your feet. Covered in the green pigment of the wet grass, you began incessantly rubbing it off your knees and face. Before you could even look up and thank the boy, you felt his hand touch your shoulder.

“Tag. You’re it,” he said calmly, and when you lifted your gaze he had a mischievous smile. You couldn’t believe it. He tricked you.

“You’re not even playing!” you argued angrily.

“I am now,” he shrugged, and without wasting another moment, he ran away, joining the other kids as you were now tasked with catching them.

The warm, damp wind of summer evenings caressed your hair while you sat on the curb in front of your house. The sound of crickets and dogs barking filled the small neighborhood. Every now and then, a firefly would pass by, illuminating the dark sky as the sun slowly hid underneath the horizon.

Irritated, you looked at your bike. Your dad removed the training wheels and sent you outside to practice while he made dinner with your mom. After falling off your bike five times, you gave up, looking at the bike with angry tears pricking in your eyes.

“Hi,” you heard a chirpy voice say from somewhere in the dark. Scared, you lifted your eyes to search for whoever was calling out to you. On the other side of the road you noticed a small figure with the same messy hair of the boy you saw at the park.

“Hi,” you replied, relaxing as there was no threat or monster, just the boy that tricked you earlier that day.

“What’s up?” he walked towards you. Like his mom taught him, he looked both ways before crossing the street, even though no cars passed by this late in the evening.

“I’m riding my bike,” you answered, looking up at him once he stopped in front of you.

“How can you ride your bike if you’re not on it?” he looked at the bike that was laying a couple of feet away from you.

“My dad took off the training wheels,” you explained.

“You don’t know how to ride it, do you?” he smiled, tilting his head.

“Yes I do,” you defensively argued, too embarrassed to admit it.

“Show me then,” he gestured towards the bike before putting his hands on his hips, waiting patiently for your lie to be uncovered.

You looked at him for a second, debating whether this was worth it or not. You didn’t know much about him, but after the way he betrayed you earlier that day at the park, you knew he was up to no good. What if you fell again and he’d tell all the other kids you can’t ride a bike without training wheels?

“No,” you replied, shrugging as if you didn’t care. “I’m too tired,” you explained, but it was clear you were lying through your teeth.

The boy hummed in response, smiling knowingly. You looked down at the ground, waiting for him to leave you alone, but instead he stepped closer. Confused, you lifted your gaze.

“I’m sorry about today at the park,” he said, a sudden shyness in his words. “I didn’t know your friends were gonna laugh at you.”

“It’s ok. They always laugh when I lose,” you scoffed, not thinking much of it.

“You need new friends then,” the boy smiled.

You understood what he meant, although you were reluctant. He wasn’t so kind earlier at the park when he tricked you into trusting him. “What’s your name?”

“Roman. I live right there,” he pointed a couple of houses down the street.

Hesitantly, you gave him your name, but you didn’t tell him where you lived as you thought it was a smart move, although you sat right in front of your house. Roman looked at your parents in the kitchen through the window. He watched them for a moment as they cooked.

“Are they making dinner?” he nodded towards the window.

“Yeah. I probably have to go back inside.”

“Well, let me teach you how to ride the bike before you go back in,” he stepped towards your bike, lifting it off the concrete.

“I told you I already know how to do it,” you argued.

“You’re not very good at lying.”

You stood up, looking at Roman skeptically for a moment. You looked back at your parents in the window. They didn’t seem to be quite done with dinner yet, meaning you had a couple of minutes to spare. You looked back at Roman, and after rolling your eyes dramatically, you hopped on your bike and allowed him to teach you.

2014

“Roman! I told you to be careful!” you practically yelled in Roman’s face as you helped him sit down on the hot concrete of the skate park.

You weren’t a big fan of Roman’s new hobby – skateboarding. Well, it wasn’t exactly new. He had been doing it for a couple of years now. But whenever you would go to this specific skatepark, he would always try to impress the older kids which resulted in him doing all sorts of tricks he wasn’t ready for yet.

You reached for his backpack, searching through it frantically as blood pooled on the concrete around Roman’s leg, the scratch on his knee although not deep, was painful enough to leave him wincing. But he couldn’t let you see this.

“I’m fine! This happens all of the time,” he tried to argue, but he soon realized he wasn’t making it any better. You shot him a look, before going back to the backpack.

“Well, if it happens all the time maybe you can tell me where you keep your stupid bandages.”

“The side pocket,” he gestured towards his backpack, holding his leg as the stinging became more intense. You quickly followed his instructions, digging through the small pocket until you found an almost-finished gauze roll. It was dirty around the edges and overall disgusting. But it would have to do as you didn’t have any other option.

You crawled back to Roman, your eyes widening at the small pool of blood that had gathered around his leg, the red liquid almost instantly drying on the hot concrete.

Grabbing your water bottle, you placed a hand on Roman’s knee, lightly cleaning his wound of dirt and blood. You watched his face as he squeezed his eyes shut at the sudden stinging caused by the water against his open wound, and he leaned back on his hands. You then grabbed the gauze roll, wrapping it around Roman’s knee, careful not to hurt him.

“Is it too tight?” you asked, worried eyes looking up at him. He simply shook his head in response, and you followed by tying the gauze, ripping the excess piece which was all that was left of the roll. You put the piece in your pocket.

Then, without thinking, you lowered your torso to reach Roman’s bandaged knee, puckering your lips. But before you could move any further, Roman interrupted you.

“What are you doing?” he smiled.

“Kissing it better?” you answered as if it was obvious.

“That doesn't work,” he scoffed with a smile, looking down at you.

“You don’t know that,” you argued. Roman didn’t answer, but instead kept his gaze fixed on you, allowing you to proceed. You pressed a gentle kiss against the gauze, careful not to put too much pressure on his wound. You straightened up, looking at Roman as you waited for an answer, but all he did was look at you with a shocked expression. “Well, does it?”

“Uhm –“ he snapped out of his thoughts, a pink hue spreading across his face. He looked down in an attempt to cover it. “Yeah,” he answered shortly.

“You need more bandages,” you noted. “And you need to stop doing tricks you don’t know,” you joked, looking down at his wrapped knee, blood already seeping through the white cloth.

“I know how to do a 720,” he rolled his eyes.

“Clearly, you don’t,” you nodded towards his knee.

“Whatever. I just had a pebble in my way.”

“Sure,” you grinned, looking at him.

Roman wasn’t sure what shifted that day. Maybe it was the way the sun gently caressed your features, maybe it was the way you watched him skate, cheering after every trick he landed, maybe it was the whole ‘kiss it better’ crap he didn’t believe in until now. Maybe it was just the heat messing with his head. But that night, twisting and turning in his bed, the window wide open brining in that familiar summer night smell, he couldn’t get you out of his head.

A couple of houses down the street, in your room, you opened your closet quietly as you didn’t want to wake up your parents. The nightlight on your bedside table struggled to illuminate the entire bedroom, and you struggled to find what you were looking for in the dark corners of the closet’s top shelf.

You felt around with your hands, trying to grasp that familiar carboard texture until your hands landed on an old shoebox. You pulled it out of the closet and placed it on your bed before opening it. The box was relatively empty – the shoes were long gone as you grew out of them. But you kept their box.

Your favorite pencil from second grade, a drawing you made for mother’s day, a note from Roman that wrote ‘Let’s skip’ – these were all small trinkets you had gathered over the years. Things you didn’t want to forget.

You pulled out the last piece of gauze from your pocket, storing it safely in the shoe box before closing it gently and hiding it back in the closet, the box serving as a timeless reminder of your childhood and the days everything seemed so simple.

2017

Sweat trickled down your skin as you hiked up the hill Roman and you liked to hang out on. However, due to a recent coyote spotting a couple of weeks ago, your visits to the hill had lessened.

Both you and Roman’s legs were covered in scratches from all the bushes and rocks you had fallen onto as you had to take a different route than usual to avoid the reported coyotes.

“Fuck!” you sighed, wiping sweat off your forehead. “I can’t do this anymore.”

“Come on, we’re almost there,” Roman came up from behind you.

The day had already been eventful enough, with Roman’s birthday party and all. But you two snuck out earlier, which was also a hell of a hassle, hiding from both your parents as you jumped through Roman’s bedroom window. Then you had to walk around town for 2 hours just because Roman’s plug decided to give you the wrong meetup spot.

Smoking weed at 13 wasn’t the brightest idea, especially on a hill with sprouting wildlife, but it was Roman’s birthday and he set his mind on smoking weed for the first time. And who’s better to smoke with than his best friend?

You and Roman did everything for the first time together: first fight when Roman got his ass kicked and you had to help patch him up, first time getting drunk at your older cousin’s birthday party, first smoke, the used cigarette butt now put away in your shoe box. It was almost a tradition.

So smoking weed together for the first time seemed natural. You just never expected to do it so early.

“Hurry up!” Roman yelled, being far in front of you. “Last one to reach the top is a loser!” he suddenly began sprinting, jumping over bushes and rocks.

“That’s not fair! You’re already in front of me!” you tried to argue with him, but he didn’t answer. So you followed him in the fastest sprint you could muster, with your legs already giving up when you took the second step.

Of course, when you finally reached the top he was already there, sprawled out in the grass underneath the orange sunset. You joined him, collapsing right next to Roman as you panted incessantly.

Roman wasted no time, reaching into his back pocket to grab the two pre-rolled joints Roman’s plug gave you.

“You know,” you started, sitting up in the grass. “When you said you had a plug I expected some scary buff dude. I didn’t picture some scrawny little kid that’s probably younger than us,” you recalled his so-called ‘plug’ you had to hold back from laughing at.

“He’s chill,” Roman also sat up, continuing to dig in his pocket to find the lighter. “I met him at the skate park.”

“You meet a lot of people at that park.”

“Are you jealous?” he grinned, pulling out the lighter.

“No,” you quickly shut him down, the question making you nervous. “I’m just worried.”

“Why? You think I’ll replace you or something?” Roman handed you one of the crumpled-up joints. You took it, examining it closely.

“What if it’s laced?” you ignored Roman’s question.

“It’s not,” he assured you before looking at you for a second longer. Then, he grabbed the lighter and crawled towards you, your knees touching in the grass. “You ready?”

“What, I’m going first?” your face dropped.

“Of course.”

“Hell no! I don’t know how to do this,” you shook your head, trying to save yourself.

“I don’t know either. It’s just like a cigarette, I guess,” Roman shrugged. “Plus, it’s my birthday so you have to do whatever I say.”

You gave Roman a look, debating whether this was worth it or not. Eventually, you caved like you always did, placing the joint between your lips. Roman brought up the lighter, the orange beam illuminating his face. You took a hit, instantly coughing sporadically. Roman laughed as you leaned forward, and he patted your back.

“This is nothing like a cigarette,” you managed between coughs.

“How is it?”

“Terrible,” you sat back up. “You try,” you pointed at the other joint that sat in his hand.

He lit it up and took a hit. Just like you, he choked on the thick smoke.

“Holy shit!” he said, making you laugh at his misery.

“Told you,” you shrugged.

The finished joints lay together in a patch of dirt, surrounded by the grass dancing in the wind. You couldn’t remember when the sun finally set and the moon came up, but it seemed like you had been looking at the swarm of stars against the dark sky for ages.

Roman lay beside you, arms underneath his head, while you held yours on your stomach. A word would be said every now an then, but since finishing the joints, both you and Roman were hit with a wave of silence.

“You know,” he started, his voice low and deeper than usual. “You’re the one I’m on this hill with right now,” he spoke, his words confusing you.

“What?” you watched as a plane went by, racing the stars.

“I’m saying, you’re the only one I want to do this with. I wouldn’t replace you. Ever. No one would climb a hill just to smoke weed on my birthday.”

Although high, his words marked you. How could he speak so freely, saying words so easily, as if what he said didn’t make your heart beat out of your chest?

Your head was spinning, not knowing how to answer. Needing to ground yourself, you removed a hand from your stomach and put it between you and Roman, twirling the grass with your fingers.

Suddenly, you felt a warm graze on the back of your hand. Roman gently took your hand in his, not removing his eyes from the night sky. Maybe he was too scared. Or maybe this was nothing to him. But to you it felt as if all the weed left your system, replaced by an intrusive comfort you had never felt towards Roman before. You suddenly felt the urge to inch towards him, yearning for his closeness. Surely, you had gotten way too high.

You ignored the urge and instead you just lay there, next to your best friend, watching the stars as they slowly went by. Roman’s grasp on your hand never faltered as he knew this was exactly where he wanted to be.

2026

There were no more crickets. No more dogs barking in the silence of the night. No more voices of teenagers sneaking out in the middle of the night.

All there was were cars, the city being active even when the sun was no longer there to shine.

You sat at your desk, the bright light from your laptop casting a sharp glow over your face as you edited the last batch of photos from your previous gig.

Finally you closed your laptop, shutting the lid with a loud sigh as your room was depleted of its only source of light, now engulfed by the darkness of the night. Well, it was never really dark.

You looked out the window, a multitude of street and headlights rushing by in a blur below you. A sudden shift in the air reminded you of the nostalgic summer nights back at your parents' house, looking out the window and seeing one single flickering light.

You remembered how scared you were, cuddled up in between pillows and blankets, and although you were drenched in sweat as the summer nights were merciless, you were thankful for the safety of your bed and nightlight, begging for the streetlight to stay on for just one moment.

Now you were all alone. You didn’t need a dozen blankets to keep you safe. You had no nightlight, the only outlet beside your bed occupied by your phone’s charger. And you begged for the hundreds of streetlights to flicker, and just for one moment, to turn off.

You laid down in your bed after another workday, phone in hand, but not on just yet. You took a moment for yourself as your eyes could finally rest, shutting them to see the calm darkness behind your eyelids for a couple of moments.

Sometimes you thought about that little girl in her parent’s house, in a small neighborhood. You had posters of your favorite actors and CDs lined up on every shelf. You had photos of you and your friends to brighten every wall, and all your memories were confined to a shoe box.

You thought of how she wouldn’t believe that in a couple of years she would have her own penthouse that she bought all by herself through her successful career. She wouldn’t believe that her job basically meant going to parties every weekend and getting hired by all sorts of celebrities. She wouldn’t believe that while having such an active life she would still be lonely, having no one to confide in or truly and confidently call a friend.

But what she could believe was that in a couple of years, in that big penthouse with streetlights brightening every corner, somewhere deep inside her closet would sit that same old shoebox, littered with all sorts of memories she would never forget.

Suddenly, a loud buzzing noise coming from your phone snapped you out of your thoughts.

Music bounced off the walls throughout the club as people socialized, scattered around the building.

You had been at The Echo for jobs before, whether it was a show or party, but never for someone as big as 2Hollis. You knew how big he had gotten in the past two years as part of your job was to keep up with the newest celebrities.

Looking around the room you recognized some faces: microcelebrities, influencers you followed on social media, and artists Hollis was friends with.

The party wasn’t what you were used to: the music wasn’t too loud, there were no flashing lights, the atmosphere being a lot more calm as everyone prioritized socializing rather than getting fucked up and hooking up.

You made your way through the club, over to one of the backrooms where you knew you’d find Hollis. As you reached for the door handle, a sudden wave of anxiety coursed through your veins, the reality kicking in: you hadn’t seen Hollis since highschool. And he was never really your friend, just Roman’s friend he would often ditch you to hang out with. In fact, from what you remember, your last conversation with Hollis was an argument.

You had never been hired by someone you knew before. And knowing Hollis, he was still close friends with most of the people from around that time. Including Roman.

When Hollis hired you for the party, you instantly knew Roman will also be there. You didn’t follow him or Hollis on social media, but as their fame grew they would inevitably pop up in every corner of the internet. A certain ‘boyliife’ had been growing, and upon one curious search on Instagram, you saw the faces of the boys Roman would hang out with in highschool.

In the days leading up to the party, you found it harder and harder to sleep as you lay in bed, thinking of all the possibilities of what would go down at the party. And every night, like a ritual, you’d roll over on your side and realize how ridiculous this all was: you had known Roman since you were seven. You grew up together. There was no reason to be nervous.

Gathering yourself, you opened the door and you were instantly thrown in an ocean of greetings. In front of you was Nate and Ryan. You met both of them around a month before graduation when Roman took you to the skatepark for the last time. Finn, a guy you had only seen pictures of, was sitting on a chair and talking to the DJ. Scattered around the room were a couple of people that worked for the venue.  

And finally, leaned up against a wall and talking to the girl you could only assume was his girlfriend, according to his Instagram profile picture, was Hollis. He wasn’t hard to recognize with his platinum blond hair, which became his staple. But he was very different from the guy you met in highschool.

“Hey!” he pushed himself off the wall and walked towards you, giving you a side hug. “It’s been a while, huh?” he said, trying to avoid what would soon become a very awkward conversation.

“Yeah,” you huffed a small chuckle. “I just got here, but I’m ready to start,” you continued, opening your bag to take out your camera.

“Good,” Hollis replied.

“Do you have anything specific you’d like me to take pictures of?” you asked while going through the settings on your camera, reading the tiny words on the screen.

“Not really. Maybe do some closeups of the DJ. But other than that you can do pretty much whatever you usually do.”

You nodded, taking note of his vague instructions. You looked around the room one last time, smiling at the few faces you recognized, before turning around to go back into the main room.

As you walked towards the bar and examined the room closely to see what could make an interesting picture, you couldn’t help but notice Roman’s absence. You didn’t see him in the back room and you couldn’t spot him anywhere around the club. Maybe he hadn’t showed up.

In a way you were relieved. Seeing him after so long was bound to be awkward. Especially since you two didn’t leave off on the brightest note.

But at the same time, you were disappointed. Roman had been a big part of your life. All your best memories included him and the shoebox in your closet was filled with things he had given you: notes from class, small trinkets he’d buy when he would go to Mexico, the piece of leftover gauze.

Highschool friendships never last. That’s what you always told yourself. But upon seeing Roman with Hollis and the other boys from that time still being friends, you couldn’t help but feel a sharp pain deep in your chest.

You felt betrayed, in a way. Why did Roman stay friends with Hollis after all these years, and not you? Why didn’t it work out between you and him? You had known him years before he even met Hollis. And that same boy with bleached hair and freakishly long legs would lead to you and Roman’s untimely separation.

You got yourself a drink – nothing too crazy as you didn’t like to drink on the job – and began taking pictures of whatever you deemed interesting: some guests laughing, a drunk girl dancing by herself, the DJ, the way the lights cast an angelic glow upon the crowd.

You were familiar enough with The Echo to already know all the good spots to take pictures from. You found yourself in a corner, looking through the viewfinder at all the possible frames, until your lens lined up perfectly, right in the middle of your screen, with a brunette man.

He stood tall in the middle of the room, chatting with some people. He was facing away from you, his long hair standing out as he moved to push a loose strand out of his face. You zoomed in on him, admiring how the lights framed his dark figure, contrasting colors throwing off your camera’s setting.

Annoyed, you rushed to lower the exposure in order to perfectly capture the imagine you could only describe as divine. Once you were all set, you quickly aligned your eye with the viewfinder, your finger hovering just above the shutter, only to see the man had turned around.

And right there, in the center of the grid lines, with long hair and dark eyes, stood Roman. Your finger instinctively pressed the shutter before you could even process the situation.

Left in a state of shock, you lowered your camera as your lips parted slightly, staring at the same man whose name you could never get out of your head.

Roman made his way towards you, heavy boots thumping against the hardwood floor before he stopped right in front of you.

His expression didn’t tell you anything – he was just as calm as if he would be looking at a person he’d known for years. Well, someone he saw daily, not someone he hadn’t spoken with in four years.

“Hi,” he smiled, looking down at you with wide eyes, equally as surprised by your presence.

“Hey,” you smiled back, still in shock at his sudden appearance. You had already settled with the thought that you wouldn’t see him tonight, so to say that you were taken aback was an understatement.

Roman’s eyes travelled down your body, before lifting back up to your face again. “You look good,” he said, taking note of your camera.

“Thanks. You too.”

“Hollis told me you’re coming.”

“Yeah. I never thought I’d end up working for him,” you let out an awkward laugh, trying to ease the tension. Roman didn’t laugh. He didn’t even smile. He just looked at you as if he was examining your every feature.

Somewhere from the crowd a guy emerged holding a couple of drinks. Roman instantly jumped to help him, taking some of the drinks from his hands. The guy urged Roman to join him in a toast for Hollis, saying he was headed to their booth. Roman nodded, looking back at you and giving you a simple smile, before walking away with the guy.

You were left in a state of shock that didn’t leave you since you first spotted Roman in the crowd.

Ever since highschool, you imagined what it would be like to see Roman again. Sometimes you’d imagine hugging him and picking up your friendship from where you left off. Sometimes you’d imagine yelling at him for causing you so much suffering and pain.

But you never imagined this: a half-assed conversation while you were on the job. It was underwhelming, to say the least.

In the four years since last seeing Roman, you two became very different people. You always had your differences: he had his music; you had a camera you took with you wherever you went. But there was never a time you had nothing to talk about.

In that moment the reality set in. Roman and you would never be the same. He was a big star, growing to be a man very different from the boy your grew up hand in hand with.

He would never know about the sleepless nights wasted thinking about him. He would never know about how much you missed him, even four years later. Worst of all, he would never know how much you grew to love him growing up. More than friends should love each other.

After him, you never had a friend that would even get close to comparing to what you and Roman had.  

And now he was drinking in his VIP booth, having the time of his life with his friends, while you were working.

You picked up your camera, grabbing it with both hands as if to remind yourself you were working.

So that’s what you did for the rest of the night. You took pictures of the guests, the lights, the stage and the bar. It was all the same ritual, just like every other night. You loved it.

3AM

The numbers on your phone were the first indicator that the party was coming to an end. Then the guests started leaving, group by group, until the damp air of the club was replaced by a lonely cold wind.

You scrolled through the photos, squinting to see the smallest of details on the tiny screen. You knew it was pointless as you could see the full-size pictures once you downloaded them on your laptop, but you still felt the need to check and admire your work.

As the DJ began gathering his equipment, you realized it was your time to go as well. But not before getting your paycheck.

You walked back towards the back room, dreading each step as you knew exactly who you’d find behind that door. Once you pressed the door handle, pushing the wooden door slowly, two heads lifted to look at you: Hollis and Roman. The rest had seemingly left, leaving only them two sitting down on some chairs.

“Hey,” Hollis shot up from his chair and walked up to you while Roman stayed sat down, his eyes glued onto you. “You’re done?” he asked.

“Yeah,” you nodded, bringing up the camera to show him some of the photos.

“This is sick!” he smiled, giving a pat on your back before taking the camera into his own hands. “Roman, come look at this.”

Roman reluctantly got up from his chair, walking up to you and looking down at the small screen of the camera. You took note of how far away from you he positioned himself, as if an invisible barrier was keeping him away. You noticed this earlier as well as he stood at an awkward distance.

“It’s cool,” Roman nodded, looking up at Hollis as if he was the one that took the photos. He acknowledged you with a small smile and then he stepped back as you grabbed your camera from Hollis and put it safely in your bag.

“Anyway,” you started. “I should get going.”

“Yeah, let me just get your money,” Hollis agreed while walking off to another room. You had never had a job in which you were paid upfront in cold hard cash. It just went to show how successful Hollis had truly become in these four years. Or he was just trying to show off like he always did.  

Roman watched Hollis walk away, letting out a loud exhale in the now emptier room. You stood beside each other, looking around, neither of you sure of how to initiate a conversation.

“I heard you do music,” you tried after a long moment of awkward silence.

“Yeah. I don’t have many songs out right now, but I’m working on some more,” he explained.

“It’s pretty cool. You have an EP right?” you asked to which Roman answered with a quick nod. “I heard it at a party I was working at. I thought the voice sounded familiar, so I did some research when I got back home.”

“I’ve seen your work too. Not just today, like on insta,” he attempted to keep the dry conversation going.

“Yeah?” you smiled, looking up at him. He was basically admitting to checking to see what you have been up to. “What’d you think?”

“It’s cool you followed your dreams. Made a career out of it and all. I remember you always had a camera with you back in highschool.”

“And you always complained about it because I’d always stop to take pictures,” you chuckled, being reminded of small details you had seemingly forgotten.

“Nah, I was just teasing you. I thought it was pretty cool, you know? How you had such a strong passion. But it was pretty annoying sometimes,” Roman admitted, letting out a small laugh – one that you hadn’t heard in years.

And suddenly, it felt like you were back to freshman year. You looked up at Roman, and through his dark eyeliner and long hair you could see his softer features you had known for so long. You felt your chest tighten as all those memories of the greatest years came flooding back.

“Here you go,” Hollis spoke up, jogging towards you with a stack of cash in his hand.

“Oh wow,” you raised your eyebrows as you took the cash from his hand. “Thanks.”

You looked at the cash in your hand, amazed. Whenever you would get sent your paycheck, it would all be numbers on a screen. And for the first time you truly got to see the value of your work. Hollis noticed your amazement, grinning.

“Thanks for tonight,” he said. “You were great.”

“No problem,” you gave Hollis and Roman a thankful smile before gathering your things. “I’ll work on the photos in the morning and send them to you as soon as they are done,” you told Hollis and looked at Roman one last time before heading out the door.

roman x reader text fic + writing (slow burn) - FINALE chapter 9 wc: 3700 cw: none :) synopsis: you move to LA for college and end up moving in with Chessa. One night, Nate, your roommate's brother, brings over some of his friends, among whom is Roman. You and him get off on the wrong foot from the very start, and while in other cases that would've been enough for you to keep your distance, something about him keeps drawing you in. author's note: the long awaited last chapter!!! i'm very sorry about the long wait, i'm really struggling with school rn (im js like reader frfr) but here it is! thank you to everyone that was patient and supported me throughout this!! love yall <222

You didn’t know what to expect. The lights were dim and the music was soft, the calm atmosphere being enough to lull you to sleep as you waited leaning against the green pool table. To be fair, you were already tired from the previous night, and the fact that you were running on three hours of sleep. You tried to take a nap before the date, but the anticipation gave your mind no time to rest.

Roman made his way back to you with two cue sticks and a set of pool balls, struggling to balance the objects. He smiled at you, noticing your low-lidded eyes, and he placed the set of balls on the table, arranging them inside the plastic rack.

You were never the kind to be nervous for a first date: usually there were no expectations to be met. But this wasn’t a usual first date. It was Roman. He knew you. So even in your tired state your stomach twisted in anticipation as an unsettling tingle spread throughout your body.

“You gonna fall asleep?” he looked up at you as he placed the eight ball in the middle of the rack.

“Hell no. Have to stay awake to see you arch, remember?” you pushed yourself off the table, grabbing the cue stick Roman offered you.

“Yeah, that’s not gonna happen,” he scoffed, removing the rack from the table and walking over to the end, leaning over to place the white ball with precision.

“There it is,” you pointed at him, smirking. “Told you.”

Roman looked at himself in the reflective surface of the bar, before straightening himself while rolling his eyes.

“Fuck off,” he muttered under his breath, but he failed to hide his smile.

Roman hadn’t lied: he did not go easy on you. Not for one second. You decided to go best out of three after you won the first game. He called it ‘beginner’s luck’, but you corrected him by saying you’re not a beginner. He won the next one, grinning at you triumphantly. You couldn’t let him step all over you like this. So you won the last one, meaning you won overall.

Once the eight ball went into the hole, you jumped up in excitement and cheered, sticking your tongue out at Roman teasingly. He simply smiled at you. With his friends, he would’ve gotten angry at the loss, but with you it was different.

“Weren’t you so sure you were gonna beat me?” you continued teasing while helping him clean up the table, arranging the balls back in the rack.

“I’ll beat you next time,” he answered, grabbing the cue sticks to take them back to the bar. “I’m just tired.”

“That’s such a shit excuse, I’m also tired,” you followed him.

“Whatever,” Roman smiled, placing a guiding hand on your lower back. The two of you made your way to a table, sitting across from each other. You muttered a small ‘thanks’ when a server came over to hand you guys two menus. Roman’s eyes flickered from the menu to your face as he already knew what he wanted.

“Get the cheeseburger. They make it real good here,” he nodded towards your menu and your eyes searched the paper for the word ‘cheeseburger’. Your eyes shifted right for a moment, looking at the price. It was nothing too crazy, you’d seen worse in LA. But Roman took notice of this before you could even put the menu down. “I’ll take care of it, don’t worry.”

“You really don’t have to,” you began, but he interrupted you.

“I want to,” he reached over, snatching the menu from your hands.

“Wait!” you giggled, grabbing at the menu, but Roman put it beside him before you could reach it. “I didn’t even get to look at the drinks.”

“They have diet coke,” he said absent-mindedly, putting the menus back on the table, one on top of each other.

“How’d you know I like that?” you were stuck staring at him in amazement.

“You always order that when we go out to eat with the group,” he continues talking like it wasn’t a big deal.

“And you were listening?” you taunt with a small grin etched on your face.

“No,” he suddenly becomes aware of what it sounded like. Roman didn’t mean to take note of your favorite drink. Or your favorite food. Or your go-to necklace and bracelet combo. But he couldn’t help but notice these small things in the months you spent together. “Plus, diet coke is pretty basic. It could’ve just been a guess,” he shrugs.

“Sure,” you say, watching Roman with a smile as he rolls his eyes

Roman and you order two cheeseburgers and once the waiter brought over your food and you took a bite, you realized Roman had been right: it was one of the best cheeseburgers you ever tried. You didn’t even notice Roman expectantly waiting for your reaction as he grabbed his own food.

“It’s so good,” you managed with your mouth half full.

“Told you,” he chuckled, biting into his cheeseburger.

You had to admit the thought of a date with Roman – no sexual intentions, no alcohol or anything to help your through the night – terrified you. You didn’t know if there was enough to talk about to fill up a whole evening. But to your surprise, conversations came much easier than you expected. Short exchange of words flowed between the two of you as you both worked on your food, learning more and more about each other.

You hated how much you enjoyed listening to him ramble about his music and upcoming projects. You hated how he listened carefully when you spoke about college, your plans for the future, and your passions. You hated how well you got along. But most of all, you hated yourself for how you ran away from him just because you were scared. It was hard to understand why you were so scared to begin with when you looked at him sitting across from you, big dark eyes fixed onto yours as he tucked a curl behind his ear, his muscles flexing with every move.

To you Roman seemed to effortlessly pull of any situation he was in. Talking to fans, performing on stage, speaking in front of a large crowd. This date was no different. He pulled out his card, paying for the meal and thanking the waiter like he had done it a million times before. Knowing him, he probably had. He lead you out the bar with a hand snaked around your waist like it was nothing, looked at you with his piercing eyes like he wasn’t making your stomach backflip.

To him, this was anything but effortless. It was pretty simple for a first date and he knew he could’ve done so much better, picking a fancier place to match the importance of the evening. He thought out every move carefully as he felt he had to impress you. Roman spent months going in and out of your apartment, no promises, no kiss goodbye, no certainty that he will ever get to touch you again.

So,  when he got the chance to have you for a night, he felt it was too easy to screw it up and go back to square one. He was conflicted about what he wanted from this. He wasn’t the kind to settle down, everyone knew that. But when he looked down at you, the pink and orange hues of the sunset beaming down your face, casting an alluring glow upon your features, he knew this was right.

“I should go home. I’m tired as fuck,” you spoke, breaking him away from his thoughts.

“Yeah, me too,” he nodded, running a hand through his hair. “Let me take you home.”

You smiled in response, looking into his eyes. A part of you couldn’t believe this was happening: falling for the guy you once hated. The other part of you couldn’t get enough.

You noticed Roman’s attitude shift when he placed a shy hand on your face, cupping your cheek. And just like that, painfully effortless, he leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to your lips. You kissed him back, and everything felt right. It was comforting and warm, giving you the butterflies you hadn’t gotten since high school. Neither of you were sure what this was. But all the questions disappeared as your lips merged together in the warm glow of the sunset.

(2 - 7)

Months flew by. The usual college struggles followed as time passed, and all of a sudden it was March. You and Roman continued hooking up, just like before. However, there was one clear difference: dates. You weren’t just a girl he hooked up with anymore. You and Roman would share eventful nights at the club, dancing your souls away and then hooking up in the bathroom. Cinema dates in which you’d roll your eyes at the corny romcoms with terrible storylines. Walks in the park and movie nights at his place.

However, you didn’t put a name on it. Both of you were too scared to ruin a good thing by calling this a relationship. Although, to anyone on the outside that’s what it would seem to be.

Most of the fear came on your part. You knew who Roman was, you knew his fame and status. Due to the previous incident when his crazed fans saw a picture of you and Roman and dragged you to hell and back for not being the ‘prefect girl’ stained your memory. You felt as if you put a label on it, everything would become too real.

Somehow, you managed to keep it a secret from the others too. Nate and Chessa already knew, but the rest didn’t. Except for Hollis.

You remembered a late night hangout at Roman’s house to which he invited everyone from your group. After everyone left, you stayed a bit longer, sharing a glass of wine with Roman, finally alone and at peace. Right as the two of you began making out on his couch, the front door swung open, but the two of you were too horny to notice. You only noticed when Hollis spoke up.

“Roman, I think I left my jacket here,” he said, but as his gaze slowly raised, noticing you straddling Roman’s lap in your bra and with Roman’s hands on your ass, Hollis stopped dead in his tracks, too shocked to even speak.

Naturally, you jumped off of Roman’s lap, allowing him to get up and scream at Hollis for barging in like that. You watched them as they went into the hallway, and while you didn’t mean to listen in to their conversation, it was hard to keep yourself from doing so.

“What happened to hating her?” Hollis asked, but you can sense a teasing tone in his voice.

“Well, things happened, I don’t know,” Roman explained hurriedly.

“Since when?”

“Halloween.”

“Halloween? That’s a fucking century ago!” Hollis practically screamed. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“It was just a hookup back then,” Roman tried, but he instantly got interrupted.

“So it’s serious?” you could hear Hollis smile, being a lot more happy than you expected.

“Kinda,” Roman smiled back, and although you couldn’t see him, you imagined the exact face he made.

“Oh my God,” Hollis pulled him in a hug. “Romy,” he cooed mockingly, and the nickname stuck in your head, causing you to giggle quietly.

“Shut the fuck up,” Roman chuckled, shoving Hollis playfully. “Don’t tell anyone though.”

“Yeah, of course. We can talk about this tomorrow, get back to work. And give me my fucking jacket.”

After Hollis was finally out the house, Roman plopped down on the couch next to you, the entire conversation exhausting him more than three consecutive rounds would have. But with you hearing their entire conversation, he wouldn’t see the end of it.

“Romy?” you recalled the nickname Hollis used, raising an eyebrow while smiling tauntingly.

“Shut up,” Roman scoffed, pulling you back on top of him.

Hollis was the last person to find out, and as promised, he didn’t tell anyone. He was very supportive, and just like Nate, he liked to tease you and Roman. They would make small, vague comments during hangouts that would confuse the rest, but would leave Hollis, Nate, and Chessa snickering to themselves.

The world moved on, and you reached a point in you and Roman’s relationship in which you finally felt you wanted more.

Him and Hollis had been away for a while, touring and having concerts almost every day. You had only seen him once in the past month, and you couldn’t deny how much you missed him. Phone calls and texts just didn’t cut it anymore. Every day you'd scroll on your phone, watching concert snippets and edits of Roman, the need inside you growing as each moment passed.

You knew you would see him soon – he had just one show left: Mexico. Roman had been growing impatient waiting for this show. You know he is very connected to his culture and he couldn’t wait to sing for his people. So you tried to lay off him for the days leading up to the concert. It was his moment and you didn’t want to overbear him with your stupid college drama.

(8 - 15)

For the next day you continued texting Roman as if everything was normal. You were glad he didn’t have your location, otherwise he’d see you travel hundreds of miles to go see him. Hollis picked you up from the airport once you arrived and once you entered his car you could faint from the excitement.

You would be staying at the same hotel as them and Nate already took care and booked you a room right next to Roman’s.

“Won’t he see me?” you asked Hollis as you stood in the elevator of the hotel, going up to the fourth floor.

“Nah, don’t worry. He’s at the venue right now,” Hollis explained.

Hollis showed you to your room and you wasted no time in starting to get ready. The show was only three hours away after all.

The crowd pushed into itself, moving in tandem like waves in the ocean. It was quite impressive to see how hundreds of people somehow managed to move back and forth at the same time. Well, it was impressive to see it from the balcony. Not when you were amidst the crazy fans, getting pushed around as everyone fought their way to the front.

Hollis ensured you had pit tickets and he was supposed to bring you from the back so you could be at the barricade, but an unexpected error with the sound system made him unable to help you as he was too busy sorting things out backstage.

You weren’t too far from the stage which was surprising given that you arrived quite late. But you weren’t at the barricade. You didn’t know how much more you could say ‘sorry’ and ‘my friend is in front’. You were sure that by now half the venue hated you.

Although you could see the stage perfectly you were afraid Roman would not be able to see you in the crowd as you were lost in a sea of people. You listened to the chatter of the people around you, but you couldn’t understand much as all the voices overlapped. So you just waited for the show to start.

The lights turned off and the long awaited concert began. Lights flashed left and right as Roman walked on stage wearing the same braids he had sent you a few hours ago. You joined the people around you in a loud cheer, putting your hands up as Roman began to sing.

The concert had been the best Roman ever performed. At least from what you have seen. Seeing him up on that stage, singing and dancing alongside Hollis, made your heart flutter. Although he didn’t see you the entire show, you were happy to be there, dancing along to the rapid beats, blending in with the fans around you. You sang all the lyrics that you had subconsciously learned by heart from all the nights at the studio or car rides in which you insisted you listened to Roman’s music.

As the final song approached, you kept searching for Roman’s gaze, hoping that just for one split second he’d look at you. It was selfish, you knew that. But as the night progressed your need for him grew, yearning for his soft touch after not seeing him for months. Your heart beat at an impossible speed, and maybe it was from the adrenaline and trying to stay alive in the roaring crowd. But you knew, deep down, that there was something else. You had never felt this intense towards Roman before. Until tonight.

You watched his expression closely as he put the mic down, his face glowing with pride as the crowd sung all the lyrics, including you.

And then the lights turned back on again, the stage being left empty as Hollis and Roman went backstage. Almost instantly, the crowd started pushing backwards as they all wanted to catch Roman and Hollis leaving the venue. So you followed, guided by the waves of people as they all swarmed the exit.

By the time you got out, you realized it was impossible to reach the front. You couldn’t even see the guards that were holding the people back, and upon looking behind you, you noticed you were one of the last people in the crowd. You desperately attempted to push your way a bit closer, but the devoted fans were seemingly a lot more desperate than you.

Once the fans started screaming you realized it was far too late – Roman and Hollis had already come out, signing printed photos and taking pictures with fans. Finally, for a split second, you could see the top of Roman’s head. So without thinking, you began pushing, somehow making your way to the front. But again, you were too late.

Roman’s special moment was gone as the two left the venue and the crowd behind, escorted by guards to the tour bus. You failed in sharing this special day with Roman, the boy that meant the world to you.  

(16 - 18)

You felt a hand grab yours aggressively and without giving you any moment to catch up, you begin getting dragged through the crowd of people. All your panic simmered when you saw Angelo was the one holding your hand. You had met him only once before, at a party. Roman introduced you as his friend, but you assumed he knew it was more than that as he saw the way you two were flirting once you were drunk enough.

Angelo and you finally made it out of the crowd, struggling to keep up with him as he practically sprinted towards the parking lot. Once you saw the tour bus, Angelo let go of your hand and you ran towards it, seeing Hollis and Roman with their backs facing you. You slowed down, trying to step as quietly as possible so you could finally surprise him.

Trying to control your wide grin, you stopped right behind Roman, reaching out to tap on his shoulder gently. Roman turned around, expecting his brother, but once he noticed you his face dropped in shock. He looked at Hollis, noticing he was already smiling ear-to-ear. Roman looked back at your giggly state, finding it hard to contain your excitement as you stood there, waiting for his reaction. Your name escaped Roman’s lips softly as he was still trying to process your sudden appearance, before he pulled you into a tight embrace, burying his nose in the crook of your neck, his eyes squeezed shut.

“How the fuck are you here?” he asked, voice muffled by your skin.

“It was all Hollis and Nate. They got me the tickets and everything.”

Roman pulled away from the hug, walking over to grab Hollis in his arms.

“Thank you bro,” he said and Hollis chuckled.

Roman stepped back towards you, pulling you into a deep kiss, his hands cupping your jaw, supporting himself as he felt his knees could give out at any moment.

“You saw the show?”

“Yeah, I was in the crowd. Couldn’t make it to the front though. I’ve been trying to get to you the whole night,” you admitted with a chuckle, overwhelmed by the joy pulsing through your veins. Roman was still in shock, his eyebrows not relaxing for one second as he tried to connect all the dots. Without anything else to say, he pulled you into another hug, his arms wrapped around your waist.

“I’m so proud of you, Roman,” you spoke. “The show was amazing.”

You and Roman hadn’t had a moment to yourselves in almost a month. It was painful, not having your usual routine of casual hangouts and sweet moments. Not to mention how pent up you were as you hadn’t hooked up in an even longer time with all the shows and travelling he was busy with.

Roman pressed another kiss to your lips, whispering something against them that only you could hear:

I love you.

The words slipped out before he could stop himself, but he didn’t budge even when he realized what he had said. It felt natural. It felt long overdue. Suddenly, you weren’t scared anymore. As Roman’s arms caressed your body you realized you had no reason to be afraid. With him you were safe. With him everything was right.

I love you too.

And you left it at that. You were both unsure of what this would become as the future was unpredictable. You didn’t know how the public would react. How this relationship would turn out to be. You didn’t know if it was the right decision, or if you were ready. All you knew was that you were tired of hiding, tired of pretending this wasn’t exactly what you wanted. All you knew was that this was worth it.

EXTRA:

roman x reader text fic + writing (slow burn) - CHAPTER 9 chapter 8 wc: 4400 cw: smut, p in v, drinking, angst synopsis: you move to LA for college and end up moving in with Chessa. One night, Nate, your roommate's brother, brings over some of his friends, among whom is Roman. You and him get off on the wrong foot from the very start, and while in other cases that would've been enough for you to keep your distance, something about him keeps drawing you in. author's note: very long wait for this one im sorry!!! we're approaching the end guys. Also i know i said angry sex but i lowk failed to do that so sorry.

(2 - 18)

An acidic, sour taste travelled down your throat as you nursed your third drink of the night in an attempt to build up your courage. The pregame had been painfully awkward enough, especially when you went to get a drink from the fridge at the same time as Roman and he instinctively placed his hand on your lower back before realizing his mistake and moving away before you could even look at him. You had been too preoccupied with how good he looked to even enjoy the pregame, having had just one drink that was soon lost after you decided to have a snack.

The third drink finally hit, and you felt slightly lightheaded. Far from enough, but the anticipation was gnawing at you. You had to speak to Roman. So you placed the empty glass down and began walking around the packed club with one person in mind.

You had never seen a room that full, having barely any room to breathe, let alone move freely. Your low-waisted jeans weren’t helping either, the tight fabric leaving no space for air to flow properly. Fortunately, you had enough willpower to move mountains, so you pushed through the hot, sweaty bodies, wanting to enter the new year on good terms with Roman.

Maybe Chessa was right: maybe you two weren’t that bad together. The sex was great, there was no doubt there. But there were moments when you would lie together in bed and the words would just flow between you, like you had known each other for a lifetime. You found yourself basking in those few moments, wishing they would never end. Maybe you wanted more. Maybe you grew fond of Roman in ways you wished you never did.

The dim light interrupted by the occasional flash of the spotlights obstructed your vision, making it hard to identify basically anybody in the club. A bright flash – divine intervention – helped you spot the dark, messy curls that made your stomach flip, as Roman stood a head taller than most of the people in the dark room. He was near the entrance, in a corner, with his back facing you.

You felt your heartbeat quicken as you threaded through the crowd, bumping into dancing bodies and getting unknown liquids spilled all over your shoes. Finally, you emerged from the crowd through the last couple of people. You could finally see Roman fully. There were no more barriers between the two of you.

You gathered yourself, ready to have the most awkward conversation of your life. Roman was just a few feet ahead of you, his cologne already tickling your nose, warming you up. And right in front of him stood a girl, smiling up at him as he held her waist, whispering something into her ear.

You felt sick. Sick that you believed this could ever happen. Sick that you fell for this fantasy. You looked the girl up and down, trying so hard to hate her, but all you saw was yourself: she laughed at his jokes, melted under his touch, fell for his alluring eyes and ‘fuckboy’ attitude, feeling lucky to be his for one night.

Roman would always be like that, just someone you hooked up with. He wasn’t the type to settle down. He couldn’t even hold a normal conversation with you for more than 5 minutes before it lead to fucking. You let a sweet fantasy cloud your mind, forgetting who Roman really was. Who he always would be.

Outside, the air was much colder, contrasting the stiff, warm air from inside the club. The music was muffled by the thick walls, accompanied by the soft hum of the flickering streetlights. There were fewer people outside than usual – just a couple smokers and a drunk girl throwing up on the curb.

You leaned against the wall, staring down at your shoes that were ruined from the alcohol that got spilled on them. You ran a hand through your hair, allowing fresh air to caress your scalp after spending hours in the thick atmosphere of the club. You could cry, but even that felt too draining. So you just sat there, mentally berating yourself for how stupid you had been these past few months.

“Want one?” a voice beside you made you jump, suddenly pulled away from your thoughts. Your shoulders relaxed, slightly in disappointment, slightly in relief, when you saw Roman with a pack of cigarettes in his hand. One sat between his lips as he reached for a lighter, his eyes lingering on the ground as if he was scared to look at you.

“What are you doing here?” you sighed, pushing his hand with the pack of cigarettes away.

“Smoking? Is that not allowed?” he lit up his cigarette, taking a long drag. You watched the smoke swirl in the air, reminding of you of how many encounters you and Roman had outside of clubs and parties.

“You could’ve went anywhere else,” you gestured at the large street.

“It would’ve looked like I’m avoiding you, no?” Roman leaned against the wall beside you, taking another drag.

“Aren’t you?” you muttered, looking somewhere else. Roman remained quiet, but his gaze flickered towards you, a hint of guilt seeping through his heart.

“It’s not like that,” he began explaining, but you made sure to cut him off as you had no more patience for his lame excuses.

“Then what is it like, Roman? Because to me it seems like the second things got too real, you ran away,” you pushed yourself off the wall, ready to leave. But not before letting him answer.

“That’s ironic coming from you. You’re the one always shying away from any kind of interaction beside hooking up. You kick me out of your bed before I can even say ‘good morning’,” his voice raised slightly, but he tried to keep his calm.

“Don’t try to blame me,” you argued, trying to distract yourself from the fact that he was right. “Where were you when everyone and their mom was posting about me? You couldn’t even bother to reach out and ask me if I’m ok,” you felt as if you could break right there, in front of him. But you tried to keep up your wall, although your voice began to shake.

“Fuck,” he ran a hand over his face. “You told me not to text you. My bad for respecting your wishes.”

“Yeah, because all you were talking about was fucking. That’s all. No ‘how are you’, no ‘I’m sorry about how my fans are acting’.”

“Isn’t that too couple-like?” he smirked, mocking the words you said to him a few weeks ago. It angered you how he joked about things you found very serious. It angered you how he treated you like a joke.

“No, that’s not couple-like. That’s human fucking decency, Roman. If you weren’t so busy hooking up with every girl in sight, you’d understand that,” you narrowed your eyes at him, tired of his attitude. You tried to walk back into the club, but he grabbed your hand, pulling you back.

“What the fuck are you on about?” he searched your face for answers, but you were too busy holding back tears. “I haven’t hooked up with anybody since I met you.”

His words flew over your head as your mind was too clouded with irritation. “Please, you were practically all up on that girl just a few minutes ago.”

“Oh,” he realized what you were talking about. “We didn’t hook up. We didn’t even kiss. I couldn’t bring myself to because I was thinking about you,” he admitted, trying to ease the situation, but you knew it was all a practiced line he probably told many other girls before.

“Wow, thank you for being so considerate, Roman,” you mocked in a sarcastic tone. “Thinking doesn’t do shit.”

Your eyes stayed on Roman’s, both of you fueled by anger and desire. A voice was heard talking into the microphone from inside the club and people began making their way back for the countdown. You snapped away from Roman’s grasp, giving him one last look before walking inside.

You watched the visuals behind the mixing board switch to a countdown as people gathered around the dance floor. Everyone grabbed onto their partners or friends, ready to start the new year together. You were surrounded by the usual group and Chessa squeezed your arm, excited to share the moment with the people she cared for the most.

Somewhere between the happy people you spotted Roman as he approached the group, greeting Hollis and Nate. The guys watched the countdown as it went down to 10 seconds, but Roman’s eyes stayed on you.

“10, 9, 8, 7” the crowd roared, Chessa’s voice loud in your ear. Roman remained still, mouthing the numbers along with the rest, but his expression was blank.

“6, 5, 4,” Roman’s expression shifted slightly, a hint of desire in his eyes. You wanted to walk up to him, but you stood right where you were.

3

The crowd got louder as the new year approached. You locked your eyes onto his, the noise dimming around you as if it was just you and him in that entire club.

2

Maybe he would come to you and kiss you and wrap you in his arms. Maybe, for just one night, you could be like all the drunk and happy couple and forget about everything that happened. Maybe you could start fresh and enter the new year together.

1

The crowd erupted in cheers and claps as confetti fell from above. Chessa wrapped you in a hug as all the couples around you kissed, enjoying the new beginning. Roman stayed where he was, feeling as if his shoes were glued to the floor. You finally looked elsewhere, trying to think about anything but him.

The party continued as you reached the first hour of the new year. People continued dancing, drinks were downed one by one, music blasted through the speakers. Nothing changed except for the numbers on the calendar. There were no new beginnings, New Year’s was just a day for people to set up goals they would never achieve.

And just like last year, you and Roman were on weird terms. Your eyes instinctively searched for him, a habit you needed to get rid of. He was nowhere to be seen. Your group was scattered around the club and no one was near enough for your comfort. So you made your way to the bathroom.

Upon seeing the long line outside the small, three-cubicle bathroom, you turned on your heels and walked towards the other bathroom not that many people knew about. Hollis showed it to you at the beginning of the night, and as expected, there was no line out front.

The bathroom was a lot smaller, mostly used by employees. You knocked on the door, listening for an answer, but the music was far too loud to hear one anyway. You opened the wooden door, reaching to turn on the light before noticing it was already on.

“I said I’ll be out soon!” an annoyed voice spoke from the bathroom, causing you to jump, only to see Roman leaned against the sink with his phone in hand. It was the second time he scared you that night. He relaxed his shoulders once he saw it was just you, saying your name with a sigh, seeming genuinely taken aback by your appearance. “Haven’t seen you since last year,” he smiled, gathering his composure.

You caught yourself before chuckling at his stupid joke, reminding yourself of how much you hated him at the moment.

“What are you doing here?” you asked, irritated.

“I’m using the bathroom?” he shot back in a 'stating the obvious' way.

“Well, you don’t seem to need it much since you’re not on the toilet.”

“Do you need it?”

“No. I just needed a moment,” you looked at him as if waiting for him to leave.

“What? Hell no, I was here before you,” he shook his head.

“Fine,” you shrugged, shutting the door behind you. “I’m still gonna stay here,” you leaned against the wall in front of him, the tips of your shoes touching his boots.

“Fine,” he shrugged back, continuing to scroll on his phone like he didn’t have a single care in the world. You two stayed like that for a moment, and you took the time to really look at him. You forgot how good he looked as you hadn’t had a moment alone with him in almost a month.

“You’re so annoying,” you muttered, rolling your eyes.

“I didn’t say anything?” he raised an eyebrow, looking up at you. “Why are you trying to start shit?”

“I’m not.”

“You could’ve went anywhere else, you know? You don’t need to prove shit, you can just leave if you want.”

“I’m not trying to prove anything.”

“Well, I’ll leave you to it. Since I’m so annoying,” Roman rolled his eyes, mocking your words, before pushing himself off the counter. You watched as he walked towards the door, his arm lifting to press the handle, but you could see his movements were uncertain, like he wasn’t sure if he should leave or stay.

Your movements were uncertain as well: when you took a step forward, cautious of startling him; when you grabbed his hand, stopping him from leaving as you hand quivered with doubt; when you looked into his eyes as they flickered with confusion. It was something you had done many times before – gently tucking a stray strand of hair behind his ear and letting your thumb linger on his cheekbone for a second longer – yet it felt unfamiliar, invasive. You were even more uncertain when your hand cupped his cheek and you leaned into him.

You decided there was no time to be uncertain. The only way to get an answer was to ask a question. So you closed the gap between you and Roman quickly, slamming your lips against his in a harsh, direct question. Roman answered, as expected, by kissing you back, his tongue wasting no time in entering you mouth, reaching for the taste he missed oh so much. Your hips fit perfectly into his hands as he pushed you up against the sink, hungry for a feeling he hadn’t had in so long. Too long.

“You missed me, didn’t you?” Roman asked in that cocky tone of his. You hated to admit how much it turned you on.

“Fuck off,” you replied, shutting him up with another breathless kiss.

“You aren’t saying no though,” he shrugged, grinning into your mouth as one of his hands trailed over your stomach, down to where you needed him most. His thumb pressed against the fabric of your jeans, knowing exactly where to touch you without needing to look at you.

It wasn’t hard to realize that during every hook up Roman studied your body, paying attention to what made you tremble and what made you push away. He tried to memorize all of your sweet spots, and all of his efforts would pay off as every orgasm was stronger than the last. It surprised you at first how attentive he was, making sure you felt just as good as he did. But once you got used to it, you found it so endearing.

“Looks like you missed me too,” you trailed your eyes down his torso, to the striking bulge in his pants.

Roman smiled, rushing to undo his belt, followed by the zipper of his jeans. You eagerly helped him pull them down, cupping him through his boxers before pulling them off. It enraged you how easy it was for him to make you forget all about your morals. So you tried your best to recall why you were so mad at him as he pulled down your jeans with pure lust in his eyes.

“You make me feel like a fool, you know that?” Roman spoke in a low voice, anger seeping in his tone. He aligned himself with your entrance, dipping his tip in your slick. “I run around after you, doing all kinds of shit – “

“You don’t do anything, Roman,” you huffed, bucking your hips up as you needed him inside you.

Roman, however, had something else in mind. His face dropped at your words, the lust being replaced by annoyance. He slapped his dick against your clit in a hard manner, causing you to jolt up and let out a yelp, taken aback by his harshness.

“I don’t do anything?” he asked tauntingly. Suddenly, Roman slammed into you, leaving you no time to adjust to his size that you seemed to have forgotten about. “How about all the times I made you cum on my dick then, huh?” he teased, grabbing a fist of your hair as he began pumping in and out of you without giving you a moment to catch up. “How about the fact that I haven’t slept with any other girl except for you because you’re all I can think about?” he continued, his voice growing shaky as he was getting closer. The neediness caught up to him and he knew he wouldn’t last long.

“That’s so sweet,” you managed to sarcastically mutter through your moans, trying to get a hold of yourself as Roman’s cock made you dizzy.

“So what the fuck do you want then?” Roman was practically ramming into you, the aggressive movement making your head bump against the mirror behind you with every thrust. “Huh?” he cooed softly, slowing down for a moment before picking up the pace again. “What is it that you want from me?”

You looked into Roman’s eyes, trying to catch a glimpse of comfort, but all you found was anger. He was upset. That wasn’t hard to figure out. What was, though, was why. He was the one that ghosted you for a month. He was the one that got you into the internet drama and then never even offered to fix it.

Roman posed a question: what did you want from him? And now it was your turn to answer. You knew it, somewhere deep in your mind. And the answer became clearer as Roman’s thumb rubbed against your clit, feeling his dick twitch against your walls. It became clearer as you heard soft whimpers escape his lips as although he was trying to act tough, his pleasure was catching up to him.

You knew the answer. But it was hard to say it out loud.

You grabbed the back of Roman’s neck with both hands as he was approaching his orgasm, pulling him in to rest his forehead on yours. Roman closed his eyes, uttering a small ‘what do you want?’ as he was tumbling over his thoughts. His voice broke slightly upon whispering the same question again. He opened his eyes, and through a small, simple look at you, he got his answer.

“Oh my God!” Nate stood at the door, looking at the two of you with his eyes damn near bulging out of his head. You and Roman jumped up and he pulled out of you, scrambling to cover you up.

“Get the fuck out!” he yelled and Nate snapped out of his state of shock, slamming the bathroom door shut.

You and Roman looked at each other, both sweaty and breathing heavily. You took a second to collect yourself before jumping up from the sink, pulling up your pants and fixing your hair. Roman mirrored you, arranging himself in a panicked state.

“The line for the other bathroom was so long,” Nate spoke from the other side of the door. “The door has a lock, you know?”

“Fuck,” Roman said, suddenly spotting the said lock right below the door handle. He looked at you one last time, checking that you were decent, before opening the door and staring at Nate that was still wide-eyed in pure shellshock. “What the fuck man?” he finally spoke, raising his eyebrows. You stood behind Roman, too embarrassed to even look into Nate’s eyes.

“I’m sorry dude, how was I supposed to know y’all were in there?” Nate put his hands up in defense, still trying to understand what exactly had happened. He looked around, unsure of what to settle on, before he noticed Roman’s crotch. “Dude…” he nodded towards his bulge that was painfully obvious in his pants. Roman looked down in confusion, before instantly covering himself with a hand. You tried to stifle a giggle, but couldn’t help yourself as you laughed into Roman’s shirt. He gave you a look before moving back to Nate.

“I swear to God if you tell anybody about this,” he threatened.

“I won’t, I won’t. I gotta tell Chessa though.”

“Fuck no,” Roman raised his voice.

“Come on, she’s been waiting for y’all to get together for so long!” Nate pried, but Roman wasn’t budging.

“We’re not together,” you clarified, finally stepping up from behind Roman.

“Yeah,” Roman backed you up, yet he was less enthusiastic with his words.

“Whatever, I’m still telling her,” Nate rolled his eyes, reaching for his phone.

“She already knows,” you spoke up, making both Nate and Roman look at you in confusion.

“She does?” Roman spoke, all the new information racing through his mind at hundreds of miles per hour. Not to mention he was on the verge of finishing when you got interrupted, so the pain in his boxers only amplified as the second went by.

“And she didn’t tell me?” Nate said, sounding offended. “How long has this been going on for anyway?”

“Bro, can you get the fuck out?” Roman snapped his head toward Nate, practically shutting the door in his face. You couldn’t see Nate anymore, but you could imagine the confused expression lingering on his face as he went to call Chessa. The conversation of you and Roman’s relationship would have to be put off for another time. Especially with Nate. It would be like trying to explain geopolitics to an infant.

Finally alone again in the bathroom, Roman made sure to lock the door this time. You expected him to get back to what you were doing prior to Nate’s interruption, but he just sighed and took a step back, running a hand down his face. He leaned against a wall, eyes on the ground as he was still processing everything that went down in the past few minutes.

“You want to continue?” you asked awkwardly, stepping towards him. You weren’t really in the mood anymore, but you couldn’t help but feel bad for Roman.

“After that?” he laughed in disbelief. “I don’t think I can. I’m soft as shit after seeing the look on his face.” You giggled at his words, taking another step so your shoes were touching. Roman looked down at you, his gaze being the complete opposite of the one he had mere moments ago. It was a lot softer, like a positive post-nut clarity. Without the nut, unfortunately.

“Do you think he’ll keep his mouth shut?” you asked, staring down at Roman’s boots. You gave one of them a playful kick, not sure how to initiate contact.

“That doesn’t even matter,” he replied, not taking his eyes off you. “What the fuck are we doing?” he asked, doubt clear in his tone.

“I don’t know,” was all you could reply. It took you a long time, but you finally understood what you wanted. However, when it came to saying it out loud, it felt as if your mouth had been stitched closed.

In that moment, you felt a kiss could say a lot more than words ever would. So you leaned in, pressing a tender kiss to Roman’s lips, cupping his cheek as you held him close to your body.

“Let’s go out somewhere tomorrow,” he whispered into your lips as if he was afraid to say it any louder. Upon noticing your sudden withdrawal as you looked at him without giving an answer, he felt the need to clarify his intentions. “We don’t need to figure out anything. I just want to hang out, you know? No sex or any bullshit.”

You tried to relax your shoulders, making yourself realize that it was just Roman. It wasn’t anything set in stone, just going out with someone you were familiar with.

“Where would we go?”

“Uhm,” he thought for a moment. “You know how to play pool?” You smiled and nodded, feeling a rosy tint creep up on your cheeks as Roman extended his hand to play with the fabric of your top. “They serve pretty good fries there.”

“And if we get seen?” although it all seemed very sweet, you still had your worries.

“I’ll wear a hood or something. And I’ll take care of it if rumors start again.”

“You won’t ghost me like last time?” you joked. Roman shook his head in response with a chuckle, trying to ignore the heavy guilt he still felt for the past month.

“That was pretty fucked up of me, I’m sorry,” he admitted.

“Yeah, it was,” you agreed, but there was no heaviness in your words.

You looked at him for a moment longer, and for the first time, the silence didn’t feel uncomfortable. You could hear his steady breathing and the fabric of your shirt as he toyed with it. He leaned in slowly, with certainty, and pressed another kiss to your soft lips, entangling his hand in your hair as the kiss grew more tender.

The two of you eventually made it back to the dancefloor, Roman swaying your hips with his hands as he brought you in to press your back against him. It didn’t feel weird. Everyone was too drunk to notice anyway. It was just you and him, dancing to the beat of some 2000s song as you made it to the second hour of the new year. His touch had nothing to hide as he pressed his forehead to your hair, mouthing the lyrics while moved in tandem, with genuine and precise moves.