Page 60 of Oh, Sacred Dark
Tyler raised his hands. “No. That’s not what I’m trying to do. I’m just asking if—”
“And I said no. Just…I want to be alone. Okay?”
For a moment, Tyler’s helpless, pained expression cracked through the dirty glass encircling Roman’s head. Fear pierced a hole into it—he had to tell Tyler what was happening. He could trust Tyler. He could—
The fissure closed, and the world became foggy and distant again.
“Go, Tyler. Don’t make me repeat myself.”
Tyler looked completely lost, but he stepped away.
Roman closed the door instead of watching him leave.
**********
Roman’s hands were bleeding. He didn’t know why. Couldn’t remember the last time he’d slept more than an hour at a time.
His whole body ached like a pressed bruise.
He shivered, curling his arms around himself. It felt like his skin was being peeled off strip by strip. It was all the damn magic everywhere, the way the house buzzed with it.
He had to leave. He had to get away from the pain of it, the way it pulled out some desperate part of him, as if he should be fighting—
The air outside was crisp. Brittle. He took one step, and then another, and another.
He stepped into the forest, and everything went black.
CHAPTER TWELVE
TYLER
In a secret part of Tyler, he had feared Roman would pull away once he realised he didn’t need him anymore. That Roman would be clasped into the coven and he’d see there was so much more to life than Tyler.
Whatever was currently happening to Roman wasn’t that.
Tyler was barely sleeping, eaten away by the termite bites of worry. Roman was deteriorating unremittingly, shedding weight and turning sallow. His mind seemed to always be half a world away, losing the thread of conversation easily, even when he was the one speaking. Tyler couldn’t even remember how many times Roman had nicked himself while they’d cooked, before Roman had stopped doing even that with him. Stopped eating with Tyler at all, really.
It was like he was somewhere else. Like he was disappearing.
Tyler avoided seeing Archie, knowing the man would take one look at him and demand to know what was going on. The thing was—Tyler didn’tknowwhat the fuck was going on. He was terrified of pushing too hard, that this was a part of recovery he hadn’t foreseen but had to simply accept, but it didn’t feel right.
There was somethingwrong. The way Roman had stared at him while ordering him to leave his house had been…
Tyler hadn’t recognised him. Roman had been empty.
He waited for the endless night to end, a heavy pendulum swinging over his head—to go back to Roman’s or not. In the end, he made it to dawn and further still, gritting his teeth until it was noon.
He texted Roman. Waited. Texted Connie, and Cross, and Charlie. None of them had seen him. Texted Nai, who took an age to respond, but also hadn’t spotted him all day.
Roman almost never asked him for things, but he’d asked Tyler for space. He deserved to be left alone when he wanted to.
Tyler made it another night. Another morning. Another afternoon. He felt delirious with worry.
Roman had wanted to be left alone. Tyler shouldn’t infantilise him and assume he couldn’t take care of himself. Tyler should respect the boundaries set.
Tyler called Li-Shun, who said he shouldn’t even be asking her about Roman.
“Whether he makes it to a session, or calls me—that’s information only Roman can provide,” Li-Shun said primly.
