#romanxdrake

Sat at the little desk by the doors to the balcony, Charlie was less eating her dinner rations than pushing them around the tray, despite just how delicious they were. James, it turned out, was an exceptional cook, but his food just turned to ash in her mouth. It tasted like betrayal.

Book open beside her as she did her best to decipher what it was she was reading in one of Toby's old medical texts about comas, but a lot of it went way over her head and her written down list of terms to look up was growing by the minute. Though nausea had finally started to creep in, it was the barely there growth of her stomach that truly had made it all so real.

When: April 7th

Where: Rosie's diner

The blow up between the Rose family - blood or otherwise - had been worse than he could have ever expected. He hadn't talked to either Charlie or Jeremiah since. Mal either. And the only reason he and Ash had words was because of the serendipitous meeting they'd had the next morning. Otherwise they too would not have spoken. John-Paul was still fucked up over his only friends, Sada included, keeping something so monumental from him, but he wasn't keepng his silence out of malice. He could, and would, enventually forgive them all, but he couldn't get past the feeling that they would all be better off without him.

His meds were damn near out which meant he was going to be harder and harder to control. His sleep was minimal, insomnia taking over each night and the lack of sleep caused his stomach to turn at the mere mention of food. He couldn't quiet his mind long enough to even try and forget the last six months of Hell he'd been through. He was doing his best, but he was falling apart. And his uncontrolled disorders weren't exactly ideal for a newborn to be around - no matter how badly he wanted to be the best uncle he could for Charlie's kid. Hell, he would have loved to have been one to Jeremiah's kid if he'd ever had one. But he knew things would only end badlt for him. Like always. He figured removing himself from the equation was the least he could do. But that didn't mean he didn't still care about their well being. Especially Charlotte's.

Lately his appearances in the diner had become more and more infrequent, but when he'd caught sight of Roman heading inside he followed. His eyes darted to his sister behin the counter and his heart broke even more. He felt like such an asshole for avoiding both her and Jer, but what had to be done had to be done. He averted his gaze before she caught sight of him and headed over to where Roman sat, taking the space across from him. He folded his hands in front of him on the table, nearly white knuckling his grip as he fought the urge to punch him right then and there - blaming him just as much as himself for the fall of the Rose family

"Get a good breakfast in?" he asked, truly uncaring whether or not Roman had acutally been fed or not.

@romanxdrake sent 💛 for a moodboard about our muses’ relationship

"See... This is how we do it." Charlie had spent the better part of day following the wedding planning the perfect little picnic in the park for them and the kids. She'd even used the very last of her dry yeast to make them a small loaf of bread for sandwiches. It had been somewhat of a struggle, considering she didn't feel a hundred percent, but knowing that Roman would be heading out on a run soon and that would mean a quarantine away from the family, it was worth it.

Breakfast rations were done for the morning, but Roman hadn't come down. Considering the shape he'd been when he'd come in, it was no wonder he was probably still up in his bed. Balancing a tray in her hands as she made her up to the nineth floor, and then on her knee with one hand as she opened the door, Charlie slowly made her way into the space, seeing him for the first time since he'd been brought in with the others. Thankfully alive. She'd already hounded Ruth about his condition, and thus made sure she stepped into his line of sight before bringing the tray over with a concerned little look but a small smile.

Before even going to the diner to start prep for morning rations Charlie found herself outside their his door, breathing in the familiar quiet of the early morning on the third floor before ever so gently knocking a few times. With everything that had gone on the night before, and just how explosive the revelation of everything had been, he definitely deserved as heads up.

The moment the door opened, she'd slipped inside reaching down to link together their fingers with just the tips of their fingers pressed together, knowing he probably expected that she was there to sleep despite the looming breakfast hour. Drinking in his touch, she let the feather light touch sink into her, a grounding force. "I'm not here for a nap, I promise... I just... I don't know if you heard about what happened at the party?"

This time, Charlie had no frying pan, nothing but the tray she'd been using to clean off the tables, and even that had been knocked from her hands as Abby Jenkins first was launched from one of the men in the booths and onto Emily. There was hardly time to react, there was hardly even time to register that the woman was dead, before she was on top of Charlie was well.