Page 64 of Pretty When He Bleeds

They hit the ground in a tangle of limbs, Roman’s laughter turning into a mock yell of outrage as he tries to wrestle Thorn off him. Killian’s grinning like an idiot, and of course, Damien can’t resist jumping in, grabbing Roman’s arm and pinning him down while Thorn holds his legs.

Jealousy flares hot in my chest, and my grip on the charcoal tightens until it snaps in half.

Fucking Damien.

The image of him on his knees in front of Roman flashes in my mind, and I grit my teeth, trying to shove it down. That was before—before Roman and me, before anything between us. It doesn’t matter.

But it does.

Roman’s laughing again, thrashing under Thorn and Damien’s combined weight as Killian cheers them on from the sidelines. He looks so damn happy, his face flushed and his eyes bright, and I can’t help but wonder—does he look like that with me?

Do I make him laugh like that? Do I make him feel light, like nothing else matters? Or am I just some kind of dark cloud hanging over him, dragging him down?

The thought twists in my gut, and I glance back down at the sketch of him, the charcoal lines now smudged and messy. I close the sketchbook with a snap, stuffing it into my bag as I stand.

I can’t sit here and watch this anymore. Not without driving myself crazy. But as I turn to leave, I glance back one last time, and Roman’s eyes meet mine.

For a split second, the noise in my head stops.

He’s still smiling, his chest heaving from the wrestling match, and when our eyes lock, something shifts in his expression. He says something to Thorn, who immediately lets go, and then he’s standing, brushing grass off his pants as he starts walking toward me.

I freeze, my heart pounding as I watch him cross the quad, his friends calling after him but not stopping him. When he reaches me, he stops just close enough that I can see the faint mark on his neck where I bit him.

“Hey,” he says, his voice a little breathless.

“Hey,” I reply, my voice quieter than I intended.

He studies me for a moment, his eyes searching mine. “You okay?”

I nod, forcing a small smile. “Yeah. Just… thinking.”

“About what?”

I hesitate, my fingers curling into fists at my sides. “You. Us. Whether this is too much for you.”

Roman’s brow furrows, and then he reaches out, his hand curling around the back of my neck as he pulls me closer.

“Damon,” he says, his voice low and just for me. “It’s not too much. You’re not too much.”

The tension in my chest eases and I let out a breath that was suffocating me. “Even though I feel like a jealous piece of shit because Damien is over there tackling you?” I ask, and his lips twitch into a smirk.

His thumb brushes against the back of my neck, grounding me in a way I didn’t know I needed. “You know Damien doesn’t mean anything to me, right?”

I snort, glancing over his shoulder toward the quad where Damien is now hanging off Killian, laughing at something. “Yeah, I know. Doesn’t change the fact that I wanted to rip him off you.”

Roman tilts his head, studying me. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” I mutter, glancing away, suddenly uncomfortable with how exposed I feel. “I know it’s stupid. I know you’re not interested in him, but seeing him all over you like that—fuck, it pissed me off.”

There’s a pause, and then Roman’s hand tightens on the back of my neck, pulling me closer again. “You know what I see when I look at Damien?”

My heart is thundering so loud that I know he can hear it. “What?”

“A friend. A fucking dumbass half the time, but still just a friend.”

I scoff, trying to brush it off, but Roman’s grip doesn’t loosen. “And you know what I see when I look at you?” he continues, his eyes locking onto mine.

My throat tightens, and I shake my head, unsure if I even want the answer.

---