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TWO WEEKS.
Two weeks and Roman Godfrey was still in a coma.
Two weeks of silence. Of watching the boy she had fallen for in such a horrible state. No one knew when he would awake-or if he ever would. Dr. Pryce believed the amount of drugs in his system could shut down his organs. Olivia Godfrey believed keeping Roman in his room would help, something about the warm sun on his face being the first thing he would feel when he awoke. Rory only knew she needed to be there the moment he opened his eyes.
"Hey."
Her neutral expression and calm composure didn't lift as the chair beside her was filled by a tall, scruffy werewolf. She didn't bother entertaining a conversation, even if it was someone she wasn't furious with. She preferred silence, much to Letha, Shelley, and everyone else's disdain who all much rather prefer her to not spend almost every waking moment at Roman's side. She also preferred for Roman to be awake as well, but sometimes you don't get what you want in life. Be it some twisted form of PTSD, a underlying fear of losing another person she cared about, Rory remained at his bedside. Painting, reading, eating; she only returned to her aunt and uncle's house at night. She knew she was spiraling, she was well aware of that fact, but something within her gave her the will to keep afloat. Holding Roman's warm hand, which twitched on occasion, gave her hope. She had to hold on. Or risk drowning.
Peter stared at the unconscious figure, the steady beeping of the machines filling the stark silence.
"You know, you shouldn't be here."
Peter glanced at her, brows lifting at the unexpected comment, the words more along the lines of what Olivia Godfrey would say rather than sweet, thoughtful Rory. Then again, in the last fourteen days since Roman slipped into a coma, Rory had slipped into someone darker, someone colder, someone who was frankly not the same girl she was before. Peter had a feeling she never was in the first place.
The pregnant girl held his stare evenly with dull eyes, dark hair hanging limply around her pale face. "You're just going to leave again, aren't you?" she accused him icily. "At least stop leading Letha on, will you?"
His mouth flattened into a firm line. "Rory, there's things going on that I can't even begin to explain. I had to do what I had to, to protect my mom and I. You wouldn't understand..."
"You're right. I don't understand." His relief was shortly lived as Rory glared at him, her voice filling with pure animosity and revealing just how badly Rory was taking Roman's state. "You dropped Roman like he was some piece of garbage you didn't wanna bother with anymore. You can't just up and leave someone when it gets rough, it's fucked up to make someone care and just decide to leave!"
