Page 13 of Oh, Sacred Dark
“Oh,” Roman startled, adrenaline still pulsing through him. “Cross. Hello.”
“Hey. Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you,” Cross said, lips twitching into a small smile.
“No, you—that’s okay. Uhm. How are you?”
“I’m okay. Do you want to join me? We can go inside—it’s a little cold out here,” Cross suggested, lifting an eyebrow at Roman’s lack of coat.
“Sorry,” Roman apologised quickly. “That’s okay, I don’t want to bother you.”
“No bother. Come on, the hot chocolate here is amazing.” Cross stood up, holding the cup he’d been drinking from in one hand and opening the door to the bakery with the other. He waited there pointedly, and Roman’s stomach sank as he followed the Dom inside.
Roman knew an order when he heard one.
It was, admittedly, much warmer inside, the smell of warm bread and pastry filling the air. Roman’s stomach cramped a little, but he pushed the feeling away—it was dinner time in a few hours. He’d get to eat something then.
There were a few people inside, sitting in clusters or working alone. Roman tilted his head down, not wanting to get in trouble with any of them, but he froze as the lady behind the large, glass counter tutted.
“I told you it’d be too cold out there.”
Roman relaxed slightly as he realised she wasn’t admonishing him, but Cross, who tilted his head in agreement.
She turned her attention to Roman. “Oh, and who’s this?”
Roman waited for the Dom to introduce him, but when nothing came forth, he did so himself, trying to keep his face flat and unassuming.
“Oh, of course. What do you fancy?” She pointed at the board hanging on the wall behind her, boasting different drinks and food.
“I…I don’t have money. I’m sorry.”
“That’s all right, honey. It’s all free till you get your feet under you. You like hot chocolate? I make the best moon-blessed chocolate you ever tasted.”
“Oh. I don’t know if I…” Tyler hadn’t given him permission to eat outside of dinner.
“I’ll make you one,” she bulldozed on. “You like croissants? Of course you do—go sit down, and I’ll have them for you in a minute.”
Roman blinked, overwhelmed, but did as asked. Cross huffed a laugh as they sat at a small, square table covered in a mosaic of colourful tiles. “Better to just go with it,” he advised.
“Okay.” Roman wasn’t about to counter a Dom, especially not in public.
“So, really. How have you been? I haven’t seen you much,” Cross pressed.
“I’m good. Everything is good.”
“Yeah? What’s the name of the guy helping you adjust, again?”
“Uh…Tyler,” Roman said, hopeful that was information he was free to give out.
“Oh, right. Archie’s right hand.”
A bolt of panic struck Roman, his lungs freezing. “He…I didn’t know.”
Cross regarded him speculatively. “It doesn’t mean anything—the person helping me is pretty high up, too.”
Roman swallowed roughly and nodded, saved from having to say anything as his order was called. He got up quickly, weaving around chairs and people until he reached the side of the display case.
“There you go, lovey. Name’s Milly, by the way.” She had a kind, round face, nose wide and skin a light brown.
“Thank you,” Roman replied quietly and took the tray back.
