Page 46 of Oh, Sacred Dark
Roman woke up feeling heavy, like the night had wrung him out and left him worn. He could feel the prickle of tears in his eyes at the thought of living through a whole other day.
He tensed as a body shifted against him, making him realise he was in an unfamiliar bed—Tyler’s, presumably, judging by who was in it with him.
Roman turned, pressing his face into Tyler’s chest, feeling the Dom’s arms wrap tighter around him.
He didn’t want to be scared anymore.
“I bought a waffle maker,” Tyler said suddenly.
Roman was thrown enough to lift his head. “Huh?”
“I bought a waffle maker. Thought we could do a super breakfast-for-dinner one day, or some kind of dessert, I don’t know, I was gonna leave it up to you. But I’ve got all the stuff to make waffles. Got some chocolate spread, too. And some sort of powdered sugar?”
“Oh.” He wasn’t particularly hungry, but Roman knew he’d devour anything that was put in front of him—his body just had to be roused from the aftermath of the Drop. “I could make waffles.”
“Or we could do them together? Or I could squeeze oranges and make juice, even though I read an article the other day that said that having orange juice for breakfast isn’t good for you.”
Roman wrinkled his nose. “Why?”
“Something about the ratio of sugar to nutrients?”
Roman was unreasonably annoyed by that. “It’s orange juice. It’s not going to kill you, come on. Like. Does everything have to be perfectly healthy? We can’t haveorange juicenow?”
The rumble of Tyler’s laugh went through him. “Sorry, Ro, I didn’t know that was a trigger.”
Roman muttered under his breath, miffed enough by the constantly changing goal lines of nutrition that he didn’t notice the nickname right away. He froze, looking up at Tyler.
Roman had never, ever had a nickname.
“It’s just silly,” Roman mumbled, but he could feel the blush on his cheeks, suddenly hyper-aware of the way they were lying close together, sharing the same pillow. Roman hadn’t even questioned where he’d woken up.
Of course Tyler had taken care of him during his Drop. Of course he was there to feed him and make sure he was okay.
It hit Roman then, with more clarity than ever before, how his body trusted Tyler when he wasn’t overthinking. Last night, he hadn’t dared tell Tyler he couldn’t bear to scene, but what would have actually happened if he’d just admitted that?
Roman laid his forehead against Tyler’s. “Sorry,” he admitted quietly.
Tyler squeezed his arms around him. “Roman, you have absolutely nothing to be sorry for. Dropping is—”
“No. I mean—sorry. I…I knew that I wasn’t really ready or, like, in a mental space to scene, and I didn’t tell you,” Roman said.
The silence that fell was thick and hard to breathe through. Tyler shifted, a hand running down Roman’s back. “Oh. Why didn’t—I’m not accusing you. I’m genuinely asking you—what stopped you from telling me?”
Roman closed his eyes, as if that could hide him away. “I don’t know. I just…it wasn’t an option.”
Roman could feel Tyler nod slowly. “Okay. And safe-wording wasn’t an option either, I’m guessing.”
“I…no.”
Tyler hummed. He didn’t seem outwardly angry or upset, but Roman could feel the tension in the Dom’s body. “Sorry,” Roman repeated.
“It’s okay. Well, it’s something that I think we need to work on, but I think it’s pretty normal that you have trouble saying no to scening after what was done to you. So. We’ll work through it.”
Roman had to ask, the question coming up like bile. “Are you going to punish me?”
“No,” Tyler replied immediately. “No chance. Never. Okay? I’mnevergoing to punish you. That’s not part of what we’ve negotiated in our scenes, and you’re not a wayward child. You’re an adult just like me, and nobody gets to punish you ever again, for the rest of your life, Roman.”
Roman squeezed his eyes shut. “Okay,” he whispered.
