Death of the Party ↠ Hemlock Grove ✓

14 ; where do us witches go

"Don't touch it," Roman moved quickly, body once so far away and now so near. He grabbed Eden's wrist gently, green eyes studying Eden's throat with a disturbing intensity.

Then, Roman shook his head, collecting himself from his thoughts. "I think it needs more cream. I didn't want it to get chaffed when you slept."

"How?" Eden croaked, feeling her stomach drop in panic.

She didn't wait for a reply from Roman, choosing to instead turn around in the kitchen's entryway and head towards the nearest mirror. Which happened to be a bit farther down the hallway, which Eden stopped at with a wildly beating heart.

Across the entire expanse of her throat, purple and no thicker than a wire was a bruise. Nasty in it's color, trying to replicate that of a plum. It was splotchy in some areas, yellow and sickly. While other parts still looked to be clogged with blood, clumped and deep magenta.

Eden stared at the latitude laying injury on her throat and remembered instantly who had made it. "Chasseur."

"She barely let you out of there alive," Roman said, watching her from a few feet away, large body resting against the aristocratic wallpaper of the hallway. He reminded Eden of a scolded toddler, looking out from underneath his styled hair at her. "I had to leave Peter. But-I just- I brought you back here and then went back-"

"No one is blaming you," Eden said, craning her eyes away from her reflection and towards Roman. "You didn't try to choke me to death Roman, this was all Chasseur."

"I should've been there-" Roman choked out, voice tight. His hands balled into fists by his sides and then without another word he turned back into the kitchen.

Eden let him be alone for a few moments, sparing another glance at herself in the mirror before turning away. She met back with Roman in the kitchen, choosing the next issue to tackle. "Where is Peter?"

"Upstairs," Roman said, flicking his gaze upwards for a moment. "After I left you here, I went back to look for him in the mill. Chasseur had taken him but then my mother called and told me to come back and watch over him here."

Confusion reeled in Eden, top lip twisting. "Did she save him? I thought she hated Peter."

"I didn't ask," Roman counter-replied, fingers tapping on the counter.

"And so the plot thickens," Eden murmured underneath her breath, and Roman hummed in agreement.

Hesitating for a moment longer, Eden looked at Roman. "Can we see him?"

"He's still out-cold," Roman shrugged, biting the corner of his lip. "I've been checking on him every hour. I watched him shift back into being, well you know..human Peter, again. If you thought the first time was amazing, this shift was something else."

"You sound like you have a crush," Eden snorted in laughter, and paused when Roman didn't share the humor of the joke. Instead, he just stood there, staring at Eden's face without a word.

"Roman?" Eden said, suddenly somber and stepping closer. "Are you-"

"I don't know how I feel," Roman gritted out, and Eden knew instantly that her question had been one Roman had asked himself multiple times already. So, she watched the heir work himself out. "I just, when I saw you getting choked and then having to leave Peter and not being able to find him-I just- I remember thinking that I couldn't- no, wouldn't- loose either of you."

Warmth radiated in Eden's chest. She struck before Roman could turn away, short arms wrapping around the male's tall frame. She pressed her head underneath Roman's collarbones, squeezing his midsection tightly. "Peter and I aren't going anywhere."