For Love of Evil - [Roman Godfrey/Hemlock Grove]

-45-

Roman braced Lyra against the side of the brick building; his hands tangled in her dark hair as his lips moved with hers. He grunted softly against her lips, trailing his hand up her bare leg to her inner thigh.

Needless to say, they didn't make it to the car. Lyra started on his belt buckle, the sound clinking as she hurried to undo the leather belt to get to the button and zipper of his pants.

Roman's fingertips grazed her center - the feeling took him aback. Lyra wasn't wearing panties. It was a reminder of what she had set out to do for the night; with someone who wasn't him.

Roman stopped kissing Lyra; resting his forehead against hers as he steadied his breathing, trying not to lose his temper.

Roman grabbed Lyra's hips, pushing her back against the brick, forcing her to stop fiddling with his belt. "Roman... it's not what you think. I have to do it." Lyra placed her hands on either side of his face, trying to calm him. She always seemed to forget that her particular skill didn't work on him. "I'm a monster now, I'm not what I used to be. In a way, I'm just like you." Lyra whispered.

Roman grabbed Lyra's throat with both hands, pushing the back of her head against the brick. He pursed his lips - his eyes were wide and full of anger. For a moment, Lyra feared him more than herself.

"You're nothing like me. You're a bigger monster than I'll ever be." Roman growled through his teeth.

Lyra struggled to breathe, prying his hands away from her neck. Roman didn't let up, his grasp was becoming tighter the more she struggled.

"At least... I don't... kill people." Lyra managed to choke. She kicked the inside of his leg, trying to get him to let go of her neck.

"Hey! You!... I suggest you let go of the young lady." A voice spoke, standing on the sidewalk at the entrance of the alley. Roman's head turned to the man, still holding onto Lyra's throat.

Roman dropped his hands from Lyra, approaching the man standing in the distance who had witnessed the physical abuse.

"No!" Lyra begged, pushing herself off the brick to pull Roman back.

She saw what he was planning to do in his mind. He was going to slaughter him - right there in the open street, in front of anyone watching. There was a growing rage in Roman - one Lyra could not manipulate or control.

Lyra grabbed Roman's arm, pulling him back toward the alley. Roman slung his arm out of Lyra's grasp, towering over the "hero," with clenched fists.

"Roman, please... don't do this. You don't wanna do this." Lyra was begging now, trying to push Roman and the stranger apart.

Roman ignored Lyra's pleas, grabbing the man by his throat, barreling him into the nearest surface - the brick of the adjacent building.

The man struggled to breathe as Roman lifted his feet up off the ground. The sight amazed Lyra; she was beginning to realize just how strong Roman had become. He could have killed her had he wanted her dead.

Lyra placed her hand on his shoulder, "Please... if you love me, you won't do this." Lyra begged. Her words made Roman pause. He looked down at Lyra, slowly putting the man back on his feet.

"You want her?" Roman asked, looking to the man. His face had turned red under the pressure of his grasp. "You can have her." Roman let go of his neck, rubbing his face furiously before storming out of the alley, toward the road.

Lyra watched Roman cross the street, climbing into a Maserati. Her heart ached, hearing the engine rev before it sped down the road; tires screeching.

This was not how she imagined things would go. Had she been able to keep her urges in check, perhaps she could've given Roman the explanation he deserved.

Her eyes trailed to the man who had almost been killed; his hands on his knees as he struggled to regain his composure. "Are you okay, miss?" He asked.

"Fuck off." Lyra groaned, walking across the road to get to her car.

She knew Roman would be back; that more than likely, he would be waiting for her at the apartment. He was hurt, and in turn, resulted in his anger. She knew that Roman was incapable of coping with the way he felt about her - the betrayal he felt, knowing that she had been alive all this time.

There was something else about Roman - something he was also struggling with that she was unable to read. Whatever it was, Roman had buried it so deep that even he couldn't be allowed to think of it. It was grief - a loss of something other than herself.