Page 42 of Oh, Sacred Dark
They sat a little bit apart, each with their own water bottle, bag of snacks, and wandering thoughts. Romanwantedto Listen—ached for it. But it would leave him vulnerable and unguarded. What if Tyler used it as an opportunity to do something to him? To catch him unaware?
There was a very stupid part of him that said, ‘Tyler wouldn’t do that.’ As if the kindness Tyler had shown was something sustainable—as if the Dom wouldn’t eventually see how bad Roman was and try to fix him.
But maybe a little bit wouldn’t hurt—a little bit of magic. A little bit of peace.
Before he could talk himself out of it, Roman closed his eyes and let go.
His magic flared to life, sunshine blooming from behind a cloud. It shone on the grass, the dirt, the bugs crawling through it. Through the air and the birds that swooped freely. To the trees, old and sturdy and magnificent.
Roman reeled in the burst of eager force and focused on the area around him—blades of green, earth, ants. Went deep into them—the ants, especially, how they were almost one with each other, a whole bigger than the sum of its parts.
Roman delved into the composition of the soil. To the photosynthesis of the grass. Watched nutrients feed cells, Listened to an ancient world in the dirt.
What wonder, to be part of the world this way. It filled Roman up until he couldn’t take the beauty of it anymore.
He let his magic go, a stream slowly running dry. He opened his eyes, sight blurred by tears before they were blinked away.
It hurt, to be so alone in his broken and dirty body. To be trapped inside something so flawed.
“Hey. Breathe with me, Roman, come on,” a soft voice was saying.
Roman shuddered as a hand clutched his, but he didn’t let go. This voice wouldn’t harm him—it’d never done so.
Roman sobbed openly, foul water rushing out of him. All those times he’d said no and it had been ignored. All the times he’d said stop and nothing had stopped. His body had been used, beaten, broken, and he didn’t know how to undo it—how to take care of something so ravaged.
Ithurt.
Arms came around his shoulders, and Roman let himself be dragged into a chest, burying his face into Tyler’s neck. He trembled as he was rocked back and forth, a soothing murmur in his ear.
Roman didn’t know how to be what he was. How to fight with himself every step of the way. He was tired, and sore, and he didn’t know if he could go on.
Didn’t know if he wanted to.
“I’m sorry,” Roman choked wetly. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. It’s going to be okay. You’re going to be okay,” Tyler whispered.
Roman didn’t know how to believe him.
It was an odd quality of life that even the worst moments ended. When they were happening, they were so deep and dark that Roman couldn’t imagine ever feeling anything else—and then he surfaced, changed but alive.
The latter wasn’t a consolation—it was just a reality.
Roman’s sobs quieted, his tears dried, his breathing stabilised. The fear and desperation were replaced with an empty nothingness.
Nothing bad was happening, but that was the thing, wasn’t it? The bad wasinsidehim. He couldn’t escape it.
Tyler stroked his hair slowly. Roman didn’t know how to even begin explaining himself. There was nothing logical to say except, ‘I’m broken.’
They stayed there for a long time under the vast and ambivalent blue sky.
**********
Technically, everything was going well. The weeks were passing Roman by, and he was eating, and going on walks, and cooking. He was talking to people—they would look at him straight in the eye and say his name as though he were a real person. He was scening regularly—every other day, practically—and nothing terrible had happened when he was with Tyler. Roman would get on his knees, close his eyes, and drift into the warmest and softest place he’d ever been.
The aftermath was almost better. They’d cuddle on the couch—Roman had searched for another word to describe what they did, but none fit. Tyler would be warm and solid, would murmur nice things, and nothing would hurt.
Roman would be filled with a golden light, right to the brim, and then he’d return to his room in the Main House, and it would start draining out of him. He’d sit on his bed and try to scoop it back up, but the crack inside him was getting bigger, and Roman didn’t know how to fix it.
