#limro

Roman studies the end of the cigarette in his hand with some interest, the fire crackling about him. Briefly, he thinks about shoving his hand into the fire, to feel it consume him, and wonders if it would leave a mark. He's not sure any more, the limits of what could scar him.

"How are you doing?" He looks up from the cigarette - which tastes sweetly of honey amongst the tobacco - to see Liminal, huddled in a long fur coat.

"How are you cold?"

"It's the middle of winter!" Roman snorts quietly, looking down at the scales on his hand. Maybe his blood was turning cold?

"Spring isn't much warmer."

Lim doesn't reply, but he does roll his eyes, sitting down beside the grouchy siren and resting his leaf-covered head against him. Roman smiles, but hides it behind a deep inhale of his cigarette.

"You didn't answer my question - how are you doing?"

"Tired, confused."

"Yeah, makes sense." Silence descends between them, "by the way - uh..." He trails off, frowning. Roman looks down at him, eyebrows furrowed, as he scans his expression for some indication of how he's feeling. "Listen, there was someone asking for you, but i sent them away..."

The silence resumes, quieter than before, full of a stark tenseness that reminds Roman of the crack of lightning.

"What...what do you mean?"

"A guy, was asking after you, sort of anyway, he just said he wanted to speak to the siren."

"Oh."

"I didn't think he was...good enough for you." Lim's cheeks flush heavily, "Sometimes you just know, y'know? Like the way he was speaking, the way he looked, the way he said...what you are, I...sorry, I know you should decide for yourself."

Roman nods "...Yes, I should..." he looks up at the sky with a heavy sigh.

They'd reached the point, hadn't they? No amount of twisting and turning away from this would change a thing, Lim was invested in him, and he was invested in Lim. And despite the fact that with any other person, it would've set off a thousand alarm bells-

"It's okay," Roman finally whispered, "...I trust your judgement, if he freaked you out, and you didn't think he had good intentions, then I trust you."

The faery sighs with relief, sinking his head back against Roman's shoulder. The poor thing must have been tortured by something so simple. Roman thinks of the men he'd seen in the past, how little remorse they'd left for the destruction of his autonomy.