#roman001

“Hey, you.”

She seemed pretty calm for someone with such a huge bump on her head. Scratches adorned her knuckles, patches of dirt on her white shirt that she had kept tidy till now. Among the many bodies that laid around her, she appeared to be the one in the best of conditions. Sometimes you are magnet for trouble and this was bound to be a very long day for the Nekketsu High student.  

When Stella called him thirty minutes ago, asking if he could hurry back to The Pit, he assumed it was some sort of problem— a pipe burst, a quasi-bar fight, something Dex could easily handle. When he came up to the door of his coffee shop and saw another man, a lycan, his nose was telling him, filled with some sort of anxiety. Dex became furious, of course she’d leave him on babysitting duty, while she went off and fucked around doing... whatever. Sighing, he pushed open the door, introducing himself with a “Guess this is what Stella meant by an emergency... Jesus Christ kid, how long have you been here?” When Dex looked up, catching a glimpse of his face, something set off in his chest. Fear, maybe. He’d remember that face anywhere, Christ. Honestly, Dex thought the man probably died too. Instead, he turned him in to this. 

There was a weird part of his mind that took pride in this, establishing himself as some sort of big bad. Another part, much smaller, felt guilty. Then Dex realized he was staring. “Sorry, sorry. Caught me off guard. You look a lot older than expected,” he said, trying to get over his quick flub. He needed to play nice, long enough for Stella to retrieve him and for Dex to explain why they could never be in the same room again. “I’m Dexter Woo, a friend of Stella’s. She, of course, hasn’t given me any information about all this,” he made a hand gesture at the space between them, hoping it might clear something up. “So I’m a little caught off guard. Don’t often see handsome men like you around these parts.” 

“Doctor Roman?”

This shouldn’t be. He is gone and his absence weighed heavily on Chaldea. But she already has seen enough to think something is illogical, irrational and specially impossible. Inhaling, the Master closed eyelids in order to process it. Then, a long exhale. Keeping her tears from falling, her determination is now firmer than ever.

“Doctor Roman.”

She says his name more confidently, her hands grasping each other and her chest swelling in hope. She won’t doubt, nor fall into despair. If it’s not him then that can be solved later, reprimands can wait. 

“DOCTOR ROMAN!” 

So she rushes toward him, a fast leap that can attest how her body has grown stronger over the course from the Orders. However, she was not aiming for a hug. No, her arms spread in order to hold him by the neck and keep him into a headlock. 

date: december 26th time: 9:12PM location: the gardens status: reserved for @romanmontague​

Pandora winces in annoyance as a weight presses down against her shoulders — but it’s not the armored layers of her gown that are at fault for the inconvenience. A blur of clinking champagne flutes and fluttering dresses surrounds her, and there are many unwelcome memories to be found within the fray -- of a childhood that had been wasted choking on silver spoons; of a former innocence that was once sheltered by the false security that comes with growing up in a world made of paper. If the younger version of Pandora still lived, she would have been right at home with the night’s festivities — but the woman she is today is a harsher breed of creature. She feels only a sense of detachment as she makes her way through the evening, like she’s a warlord that’s been forced to play the part of royalty. 

She sighs, glancing around for something that can distract her from her anxious thoughts, but when she spots the familiar dark hair and lanky body of her superior, a relieved smile spreads out across her features. She makes her way over to the masked man, not even bothering to greet him before grabbing his tie and jerking it with a sharp tug. She drags him behind her as she walks away, dodging servers and squeezing through the crowd of anonymous elite. She doesn’t stop until she’s reached the entrance of the gardens, breathing in the fresh air and enjoying the comforting shift of atmosphere.

She turns to face her captive after making sure that their space is shared privately between them, removing his mask before he has the chance to process what she’s doing. “Roman,” she breathes, glad to know that her recognizing the Montague heir hadn’t been an embarrassing mistake. “Could you keep me company? Please?” she asks him with a softness that few know, placing a hand on his arm. “The party’s getting to be too much for me to handle -- the buzz of everything; all of the pretending. I’ve never dealt well with the unknown.” She grins, tightening her grip with a playfulness that has always been shared between the two of them.

“But I know you.”