From the Ashes

The sound of light rain pattering on the window greets me when I wake up. The room is lit by a dull, grey light from the overcast sky outside, and I turn my head to see Roman lying asleep on the pillow beside me. He’s on his side, his body curled in an ‘L’ shape. One of his arms is slid underneath me, the other draped over my stomach from where I lie tucked into the curve made by his body. I lie on my back, my legs propped in a tent shape under the covers as they drape over his. His breathing is slow and regulated, the gentle gusts gracing my chin and neck. His dark hair is messed up from sleeping. One of my arms is lying on top of his on my stomach, and the one closest to his body is propped against his bare chest. My hand cups his neck and jaw, my fingers touching the side of his face. I blink at him silently in the dreary-day light, studying him.

It was weird to think back to last night, remembering that driving need to have him here with me. Yes, a need. I had needed him there, needed to hold him as tightly as I could, needed to comfort him in the best way I know. Needed to let him know how much I cared.

Cared?

How much did I care for Roman Spade?

Seeing his scars, hearing the way he told me the brief story... It sparked that need. Knowing the pain he’s felt, the physical and emotional burden he carries from day to day, never to go away... Of course I cared for him. Apparently a lot more than I even realized myself. Last night was Saturday night? That means it has been a little over a week since Roman and I had really met. We spent so much time together in that long week. And somewhere in there, a change occurred in the way I feel about him, as well as the way I view him. When I first met him, he came off as cocky, bull headed, self-absorbed, and promiscuous. And he treated me then like he treated everyone else. When had his view of me changed? Both of the changes happened so gradually, I can’t even begin to trace them. But now... He was strong, fiery... Full of spirit, wit, and care. A little more than a week ago, he was looking down at me with his cocky grins and calculated attitude, and I spat it right back in his face.

Now we are lying in my bed, together for the summer, wrapped in each other’s arms.

My thoughts are overwhelming. A week? One tiny week? This is moving far too quickly... I don’t care what change happened, where it happened, when it happened.

With a flush of panic, I know this is just... too much, too soon. I have now slept with this kid twice. Of course, it was literally just sleeping, the state of rest the body takes by becoming unconscious, but that in itself is so close, so intimate. It’s basically cuddling close and together all night. We aren’t even in a relationship, or anything. We don’t have that bond, that promise, and being here in Roman’s arms suddenly feels strange.

I screw my eyes shut tight, hating what my thoughts do to my emotions. I slide my hand off of Roman’s cheek, move his arm from around my stomach, and carefully crawl out of bed into the slightly chilly air of the room. He stirs with a soft groan as I fish through an open drawer for clothes.

“...Allie?” His groggy, scratchy morning-voice calls softly from the room I fled as I pad quickly down the hall to the bathroom. I change pretty fast into jeans and a floral tank top, wishing I had packed at least a hoodie for the cooler weather. Raking my hands through my fading pink hair, I open the door to the bathroom to scurry downstairs.

At least, I would if Roman wasn’t filling the doorframe, both hands resting on either side of it. I halt, startled. His hair is still messy, and he’s still shirtless, clothed in black sports shorts. He gazes down at me with those eyes, his look questioning, but firm. I just stare back up at him.

“What’s wrong?” he asks. His voice is still rough from sleep, giving it a deeper, husky quality.

Oh, geez. Then there’s that whole ‘attraction’ thing. God damn it.

“Nothing, Rome, excuse me,” I say, trying to sidle past him under one of his arms. He moves to block me, his head bending down close to mine.

“Don’t do this anymore,” he whispers, his look pleading. My heart picks up pace at his voice, his eyes. I cross my arms and avert my gaze.

“Do what...” I mutter, shuffling to the other side of the door, only to be blocked again by Roman. He ducks his head down to catch my eyes.

“Keep running from me.” I stare at him wide-eyed, my mouth opening and closing on the edge of spilling words that I can’t conjure.

He holds my gaze in the steady way that he always does.

“Aleithea,” he breathes my name, “What are you afraid of?”

You! Your past, your reputation, your experiences with other women!

“Please,” he whispers after I choke, not being able to tell him what I feel, his brow furrowing slightly, “You can’t keep doing this.”

“Roman...” I say deliberately, my voice sounding exasperated as I shut my eyes tightly. He moves to me, wraps his arms around me to hold the back of my neck gently but firmly, holds me securely in his other arm. My arms come up to lean against his bare chest, acting as a barrier. His forehead presses down against mine, warm and soft. I pull away slightly when the gesture causes his jaw line to fall into my hands. He grasps me more firmly.

“I don’t know what you’re feeling or thinking unless you tell me,” he implores in a whisper. I break away from him, backing into the bathroom to stumble onto the edge of the bathtub. I sit there grasping the edges. For once, words do not come to my mouth. There’s so much I want to tell him. I want to spill all my insecurities, all my suspicions and fears concerning Roman. But I have no idea how to say any of them when he’s standing right in front of me, begging me to. After a few moments of staring down at me with those eyes, he closes the space between us to crouch down in front of me, taking my hands from my lap. He looks up into my eyes, his back a muscular, scarred curve as he sits back on his heels.

“I don’t know...” I murmur, avoiding his eyes, “I just don’t know you. I know your reputation, and I don’t want to be one in a number.” He blinks at me, wide-eyed.

“What do you mean?”

“Roman!” I say, getting flustered by this exchange, not liking the way I’m trying to explain anything. “You have to know what I mean...” His gaze is unwavering.

“Enlighten me.”

“You... Your reputation... You use women, you’ve done drugs, you-” he interrupts me by pulling my hands in toward his chest.

“Thea...” he whispers, and I finally look at him.

And I’m shocked by the hurt he holds in his eyes.

“Why in the world would you believe any of that?” he asks me.

My stomach drops.

“It’s not true?” I breathe, searching his sad gaze.

“None of it. They’re just rumors, Allie. I thought you knew that...” he presses my hands to his bare chest, and I spread my fingers to cover it. My heart is pounding a million beats per second, the thrilling sensation of hope and realization flooding my stomach. I look down at my feet.

“I believed them because I didn’t want to get hurt. If any of them were true... I didn’t want to get hurt,” I whisper very softly. Roman’s hand lifts to rest on the side of my face, tilting my head up gently to meet my eyes. “Don’t lie to me, Roman,” I say as I gaze intently at him. His smoky eyes move back and forth between mine.

“I would never lie to you, Aleithea. Besides Sage, I trust you more than I trust anyone.” His thumb strokes my cheek tenderly.

“Why?” I breathe. He pauses, studying me for a few moments.

“You’re so different. I’ve never met anyone like you. Your spirit runs so deep, and you just... emanate fire itself. I got to know you, and... your fire shot its way straight through me. And now...” with his free hand, he covers mine over his heart. “You run deep in me.” He’s looking away now, and I can visibly see and tell that his words come straight from the organ that lies beneath my hand. I feel his pulse, beating fast and hard with emotion...

No one has ever said anything like that to me. Roman is so... true. True to me, true to himself. He’s doing now what I have a hard time doing for him: opening his emotions up for me to see and examine.

His head is declined, and I can see the scars that run across the back of his shoulder and farther down.

“You should’ve asked me about it sooner, Allie,” he says, his head moving up slowly to look at me again.

“I... I didn’t want them to be true. I was afraid to ever mention it because I didn’t want you... to tell me that they were true.” He gives a weak chuckle as he grasps my hands that lie on his chest.

“I understand. I know what it’s like to protect your feelings.” My fingers move up to grace his jawline. “Allie?” he says, looking at me with those eyes. I raise my brow expectantly at his tone. “I will never hurt you like that. I will always protect your feelings... your emotions.” I look at him more steadily, my brow furrowing slightly.

“Why?” I ask him. A tender light fills his eyes, and my hands and fingers slide off of his skin as he moves to stand and rake his hands through his hair as he leans back against the sink. He stares at the rug on the bathroom floor.

“Because... I’m falling in love with you.”

My heart blasts off like a rocket ship at the words that Roman just whispered. I sit up straight in shock as he turns to bend down in front of me again, taking my hands once more as he looks at me in an almost pleading way.

“I’ll always protect you, watch over you, be there for you...” he says.

This isn’t happening. Roman... is falling in love with me? My breath is quick and my heart is working double-time to get all that blood quick enough to my short-circuited brain. He pretty much just dumped his heart on my lap, I couldn’t even believe this was all happening. The rumors weren’t true... And Roman has deep feelings for me.

“Aleithea?” he says, the smile falling slowly, “You haven’t said a word.”

I let out an exasperated breath, fishing for words once more. He has this uncanny ability to steal my function of speech when he is speaking his heart.

“I understand if this is a lot, or if you don’t feel the same way, I guess I can-”

And I stop that thought by grasping his face between my hands, and pressing my lips against his.

The gesture brings me off the tub in my haste, and we both rest on our knees, propped on our ankles. Roman sucks in a gasp through his nose as I tilt my head to the side, my hands moving up to be buried in his thick hair as I lean up into the kiss from my crouched position. After getting over his initial shock, Roman returns my kiss strongly, his piercings pressing into my bottom lip, which quickly learns to be placed strategically between them. My hands run through his hair as we kiss more, the overwhelming feeling quickly turning to pure warmth as the touch of his lips melts the tension in my stomach. His hands find both sides of my neck, and he gently tugs me to sit straight up with him as he deepens the kiss with his hand placement. Our bodies connect gently, and the warmth spreads.

I can’t get close enough to him. My arms move to encircle his strong neck, his hands caress their way down my shoulders and ribs to hold me tightly against him by the lower part of the back of my ribcage. He breaks the kiss for air, and we’re both breathing a bit heavier as I move my forehead to meet his. I look up at him, my hands moving back up to the hair behind his neck as he looks down, shifting his head to press his pale nose against mine.

Those curved lips that have always made me fight off the urge to feel them on mine... That hair that I used to hate myself for wanting to run my fingers through... Those strong hands that I wanted to touch me, those arms that I wanted to hold me... I have them all, safely.

I tilt my head up to touch my lips slowly to his slightly parted ones, and his breath graces my mouth. I let out a gentle sigh right back, and I can tell he relishes in the soft touch of my breath too, by the way he clutches my back. He kisses me again, aiming for my bottom lip, giving it a gentle nip. I giggle into his lips, and his mouth stretches into a smile against mine. Giggles turn to chuckles, chuckles turn to laughs, and laughs turn to bursts of gut-laughter. And we just hold each other and carry on. For no apparent reason. Overwhelming joy, maybe. Pure happiness to have one another like this, I don’t care what the reason it is, it feels damn good.

Still chuckling lightly together, Roman pulls me against him, leaning back on his heels to almost hold me on his lap. We exchange kiss after kiss, the intoxicating effect of the contact between our lips leaving neither of us satisfied with just one or two. After Roman’s legs start to ache from his crouched position, he pulls me up to stand. Grasping my face between his hands and placing his lips gently down on mine, I smile into his kiss. I hold his hips lightly.

“Rome?” I say between kisses, and he responds with a murmur. “Why are we still in the bathroom?” His kisses halt, and he looks around briefly before giving a snort. He leans over to put his face right in mine, grasping my hips dramatically as he looks at me at eye-level.

“Baby,” he says in a deep, comedic voice, “You make my world disappear.

He has to lead me stumbling and laughing back to his room.

I sit cross-legged on the end of Roman’s bed, chatting with him while he fishes through the drawers of his tall oak dresser for a shirt.

“-and so tonight, we’ll probably go over to Mazie’s to hang out with her and Bennen. You can bring along your phone to check up with home, if you want, they have a booster at Mazie’s camp. And if you hadn’t already noticed... our little Walter is quite taken with Maize.” I tilt my head at him as he pulls out a white Aeropostale shirt, sniffs it, and tugs it over his head.

“Who?” I mutter an inquiry. Roman shuts the drawer before snatching deodorant from the top of the dresser and lifting his shirt to apply it.

“Sage. That’s not really his name, I gave it to him when we were little, ‘cause he hates the name Walter.” I raise my brow at him as he sets the stick of deodorant back on the top of the dresser, and approaches the end of the bed.

“How... Interesting,” I say with a chuckle. “Walter. Charming.” Roman bends to lean down, resting both hands on either side of me on the bed to bring his face close to mine.

“Yeah, he likes Sage much better,” he says softly, his eyes trailing down from my eyes to my lips and back. He sighs as he takes in my face, looking tenderly at me through curtains of shaggy hair. I lift a hand to brush it to the side of his face, out of those eyes. My hand lands to rest against his cheek, and the other comes up to mirror it on the opposite side. His eyes flutter closed at my touch, and that soft, warm feeling blossoms in my chest. I can’t help but smile, and pull his head down gently to touch foreheads with him. His thick lashes lift slightly, and his own lips spread into a smile. He chuckles softly as his smiling lips grace mine with a light kiss, his piercings tickling.

“What?” I mutter with a flat-toned chuckle of my own.

“Nothing,” he laughs, “I’m just... Happy.” My amused frown eases to a small smile. I tip my chin up to press my lips more firmly against his.

“I’m glad.” He returns my kiss, and follows it up with another and another. He moves his body toward me, lifting a knee up onto the bed. I respond by sliding back slowly, the contact between our lips never breaking as I make room for Roman. I lower back against the black duvet, my hands moving up into Roman’s hair as his kisses deepen. He is propped above me, the arm that he’s leaning on slid underneath my torso to gently grasp the back of my head. His other hand lightly caresses my hip. He pulls away to look down at me, and I notice how quick my breathing is, how warm I feel.

“What is it?” I ask when he doesn’t move. He stays silent for a moment, his hand moving up to brush through my bangs. The backs of his fingers rest gently against my cheek as he blinks at me.

“Nothing, darlin’,” he whispers after the corner of his mouth hitches up into a smile. He leans down to kiss my forehead with a smirk as I frown at him.

“That’s not very fair,” I whisper darkly, hiding the smallest smile as he leans back up to grin at me.

“You’re adorable when you glower like that,” he croons. I squirm below him.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah... Cut it out,” I worm onto my side, and he lowers his body down against me to wrap his arms around me.

“Naaawe...” he draws from a sigh, nuzzling his face into my hair, causing me to giggle. I lace my fingers in his, where they rest folded against my stomach. We lie like that for a while in silence, before Roman speaks up again.

“Thea,” he says very softly, his voice in my ear. I don’t think my heart will ever get used to the way he uses that nickname.

“What is it, Rome?” I ask him, turning my head to the side. His nose brushes against my cheek.

“Be mine,” he says. I pause, grasping his hands more tightly, my heart swelling at his suggestion. I see him looking at me from the corner of my eye.

“Yours?” I ask, tasting the word and its meaning with a fluttering heart. He nods against my head.

“Mine, my girlfriend,” he reassures as he wraps his arms more tightly around me. I move out of his grasp to sit up and twist toward him. He shifts to look up at me, his hands slowly brushing up and down my sides. I tuck strands of straight pink hair behind my ears as I smile down at him.

“Well duh, I’m not cuddling and making out with you because I’m a whore, asshole,” I say with a grin. His eyes glint as he sits straight up against me, flashing a devious smile.

“You’re cute, I’m keeping you,” he laughs as he takes my face in his hands and plants a firm kiss on my lips.