Post by ROMA|RED on Dec 7, 2014 15:07:29 GMT -5
The moment their lips touched the world stopped. For Roma a kiss held the import of a handshake, she’d kiss a toaster if she thought it would help the bread heat faster. But this was … different. He was careful with her in a way men were never careful with her. Even RJ in his sweeter moments would have grabbed her and crushed his mouth onto hers and she liked that. She liked to know where she stood. His touch on her hip made the breath catch in her throat. It was questioning and gentle. She was sure everyone in the dome could hear the deafening sound of her heartbeat. When he pulled back her being cried out from the loss, and she looked down and away. This was not the way she was accustomed to being handled. It made her tentative and insecure. Why had he pulled away from her … she didn’t understand. Part of her was indignant, demanding what was wrong? She’d been shot down in the past but she’d thought he liked her? Another, shyer part was simultaneously pleased and shattered that this was the best first kiss ever. Even the brief thought made her chide herself for being so silly. She swallowed her confusion. Confusion for Roma usually led to fight or flight responses, and punching out a man for not jumping her bones, although not entirely unheard of, was not something she wanted to do. Not to this man. The paradox of disconnection in timing made her worry for nothing, for he remained quite close – their breath intermingling as he said clearly. Come? The tone of his voice held a power, and she looked up then. Her eyes searched his for an eon that passed in a breath. What she saw in the blue depths she was not sure. Maybe it was that she was seeing it for the first time, unfamiliar with this … feeling. Oh she’d been in Love before and lord but that was a mess she didn’t need. She didn’t even know this man … or did she? She got the distinct impression that Tom was something … special. But people weren’t built special. They all came ‘round to the same conclusions eventually and never managed to disappoint Roma with how predictable they could be. However, there was a movement deep within her; the shifting of dormant scorching lava beneath the cool exterior that was her soul … and it was new. Warmth flooded her cheeks, and in horror she realized she was blushing. Roma Partholain, did not - blush. Sister Wolf was oddly present in the moment. Normally when Roma dashed off for a fun night of chaos or a roll in the hay Sister would disappear without comment or judgment. This time Roma was given a distinct impression that Sister Wolf was very much judging. Roma just didn’t know for what contest. When his fingers left her waist they took the heat with them and her instant reaction was to leave. He didn’t like her that was fine they could pack up Dezba and get going before dark. How coldly she wanted to brush him off, and the moment before she moved his hand found hers. She blinked and looked at their interwoven fingers. She’d held hands plenty of times, so why did it just now feel like she’d never done it before? She suddenly felt exposed, and she shivered as he led them towards the shoreline. She was dumbfounded … what did he want? In her experience, men always did whatever they wanted. Words were what had to be said to get there. She’d learned early never to believe a single word a man said between the sheets, they always lied. The rest of the time they were only half lying – even to themselves. Her hand in his was the only thing that kept her from bolting, and she stared at it a moment more before he looked up at her again and smiled. She returned it with a gentle smile of her own. When they reached their clothes, Roma hauled gently on their linked hands. She had to be honest with herself. “You don’t have to mind me none,” she said to her toes at first, almost to herself. Her resolve hardened and she smiled in a flawless poise of carefree ease. Her free hand came up to ruffle her wet hair into drying casually. "I can take care of m’self," she chided her expression coy, almost scolding in playful indignance. "Done so for a while now, you don’t have to worry ‘bout this stray,” she winked and released his hand to snag her socks. It was hard to offer him an out ... too hard. If he took it she wouldn’t blame him. He was a good man anyone could see that, and that meant she was no good for him. She'd been trouble in Texas and she was trouble now. You could take the trash out of the trailer, but it was still trash once it got to the dump. She wasn't the 'bring home to mama' type, though a few romeos had tried in the past. There was no good name to Roma Partholain … and it wouldn’t take long for him to figure it out. A panic was setting into her stomach and she bit her lip hard in hushed antsy frustration. Her hands were shaking, making it difficult to get her socks on. To make things worse, Sister Wolf was of no help. In her mind she saw the ruddy lupine watching with guarded curiosity but made no concessions to sooth Roma, or take over, or support her in making a get-away as she normally did. She was simply watching and that was freaking her out. |