Romancek: A Hemlock Grove Fan Fiction

The Hunt

'Now stop going 'round with those sleazy little pigeons,

Hanging from a slack wire, but sweet my little dove,

Looking for a good time, a bite to eat,

And strutting 'round on those pigeon feet,

There's too much money in the world for my Nickel Plated Man,

I love him'

Roman sat in awkward silence. He gazed longingly at a heap on the floor, his shirt, how he yearned for it. His mind was racing, coming up with an excuse for his apparent nakedness, questioning the news that Lynda was telling Peter and himself.

His heart skipped a beat at the thought of Peter.

His mind flooded him with the visions of the actions that had taken place a few hours ago. He wanted to give over a piece of himself that he had never even knew he owned. Roman could not decide if this infatuation was merely a lustful act, the wanting of something so forbidden. But now, his thoughts of Peter would blend with the thoughts of a wolf with a brown coat. And now, that wolf could be responsible for the murder of a teenage girl.

His hand reached for Peter's under the heavy blanket as Lynda paraphrased what she had seen on the news.

She described the girl, blonde and tall, a cheerleader at the neighboring highschool, seemingly popular and well liked. The police hadn't yet released her name.

Peter looked as if he was trying desperately to grad hold of any memory that he could. Roman wanted nothing more than to console Peter, he could envision his eyes filled with pain, even behind the closed lids. He gave a small squeeze to the hand the clasped his.

"I can't remember anything, except for the smell of something else out there", Peter finally said, his voice sounded so distant.

Lynda let out a long and tired sigh. The worry on her face seemed to be etched into every line and every pore. She turned then, and left the room without another word.

Lynda's absence left the room silent for some moments. Peter sat, all focus drawn to last night. Roman felt helpless, afraid to do or say the wrong thing. He yearned to know the answers, to know what would help, if anything. His helplessness eventually got to him. He settled on leaving, hoping it would help Peter think. But as he got out of the bed, into the decidedly cold air, Peter grabbed his wrist. Roman turned.

"I'm sorry, Rome. I'm so sorry that I've involved you in this. If you want me to stay away-", his sentence had been cut off by Romans lips. A quick, soft kiss to Peter's mouth silenced the insane notions  that he was spewing.

"I'm not going to stay away from you, Peter. I'm merely putting my clothes on and heading home, before Olivia sends the police looking for me. I will be back as soon as I can be, And if it isn't fast enough, come find me. Until then though, comfort your mother, and try damn hard to find this killer", Roman spoke while dressing himself.

"Okay, okay", Peter began, "but just know that every moment, from now until I see you again, will be too long without you", he paused.

Roman was transfixed, utterly enraptured with what had just been said.

"You barely know me", he said to Peter.  He had to force himself to look down, because being talked to and being needed in such a way, made him feel so many more new feelings then he had ever experienced.

"You're right, I barely know you. But I'll get to know you even better, and I fear that that will lead me to never again surrender a second without you", Peter was getting to his feet while saying this.

Romans body felt like liquid as Peter's sincerity sank in, warming every inch of him. He took one of Peter's hands in his own and held it to his lips.

"I cannot wait for that day", he whispered against Peter's fingertips, "and I cannot wait to continue this conversation. But I really must go, Peter", he dropped Peter's hand from his face and left before he could become distracted once more.

***

Roman arrived at home a little past noon. He met Olivia in the parlor, where she was entertaining his uncle,  Norman. She gasped when she saw him.

"Roman?! What on earth has happened to you? Look at the state of you! Those clothes are the same that you left in. Where have you been?", with each question her voice grew louder, more shrill. Uncle Norman attempted to quiet her mumbling something about Shelley being asleep.

"I'm fine, Olivia, I lost track of time. I went for a drive and wound up in Bradford, so I slept in my car", the lies flowed from him as they always had, with ease. Of course, he couldn't tell Olivia the truth. Not yet, not while he was still so unsure. She seemed to accept this fabrication.

"Don't do that to me again, at least a call would have sufficed. You nearly shattered my nerves. Poor Norman here had to come and comfort me before I did anything drastic" 

"Thank you, Uncle, I guess your suffrage of my mother has spared us all", Olivia scoffed, "You two enjoy your dalliances, I'm going to take a nap", Roman said as he took his leave and went to sleep thinking of his wolf boy.