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“Gerri, com’n, help me out here man,” Roman rolled over to lay on his back, “I think I’m fucking in love with you. Do you, I mean, do you love me at all?”
Gerri sighed and pushed her glasses to rest over her forehead. She looked up from the headlines she had been scrolling through.
“Roman, what we have, whatever this is, this isn’t love. This is… this is a sexual scandal waiting to happen,” She hesitated briefly, “I don’t even know why I’ve entertained this for so long. And I’m sorry if I’ve led you believe this is anything more than a fucked up tabloid rumor.”
Roman gave a short puff through his nose, a short, humorless laugh, and began chewing on his thumb nail, “Damn, let a girl down easy won’t you? You could have just said you don’t feel the same way.”
“Roman,” Gerri felt the words trail off from her mouth as Roman glanced up at her. His round eyes were searching her face for something, anything– desperation like a fresh wound.
“Yeah?”
“Roman, I don’t think you know what love is,” Gerri tried to sound gentle, to handle this fragile moment with care. With Roman, there never seemed to be a “this way up” marker.
“Oh, yeah sure, and you do? You're suddenly the love expert?” He was quickly building up the walls of sarcasm guarding his voice as he sat on the edge of the bed, “Your dear, dead husband teach you all about that? Or was it one of the other men you’ve jerked off under the table?”
Despite the venom in his words, Gerri had to fight the urge to gather him into her arms and hide him from a world that had trained him to growl and bare his teeth, even if that meant losing a tooth. He snarled because it was all he had ever learned to do. In that moment, he reminded Gerri so much of a trapped animal, his shoulders hunched up as if protecting his jugular.
“You know what I think?”
Roman stopped biting one of his cuticles long enough to roll his eyes, “What? What is your great wisdom?”
“You think love and cruelty are the same thing. Why do you think you like it when I insult you so much? It’s because every person you’ve ever looked for love has kicked you in the ribs. And now you think bruises and an aching side means someone loves you. Don’t tell me you love me, because I don’t want your twisted affection. And don’t ask me to love you if all you’re really looking for is pain.”
Somehow, Roman seemed even smaller, shrinking within himself, his hunched back turned towards Gerri. For once, he was silent.
Gerri reached out hesitantly, tentatively smoothing her hand over Roman’s shoulder.
He seemed to jar at the touch before seemingly letting go of something and allowing his shoulders slump.
“Come here,” Gerri patted her thigh and set aside her iPad with its forgotten headlines.
Roman immediately responded, crawling into her lap, resting his head on her thigh and wrapping his arms around her middle with the rest of his wiry body laying out parallel to Gerri’s legs.
Gerri allowed herself a moment of weakness and reached down to brush her fingers through Roman’s hair and glide her palm down his back.
He nuzzled against her leg with a sound of content.
Neither of them spoke for a while, too scared to break the moment that seemed to balance between breaths.
“Maybe,” Roman’s voice was small, like he was afraid of what words might come out, “maybe you could show me? What love is?”
Gerri hummed, “Maybe.”
Silence once again hung in the room, heavy but without tension, simply warmth.
This time it was Gerri’s turn to break the quiet, “You should get back to your room. I'm not ready for the tabloids to get a hold of this just yet.”
Roman nodded and shifted to sit up with some reluctance. Gerri had half a mind to let him stay the night, curled up at the foot of her bed.
She pushed the thought out of her head and got up as well to walk him to the door of her room. Before he reached for the handle, Gerri stopped him, cupping his face with one hand.
He leaned into the touch, eyes wide and pleading for something he didn’t even know the word for.
Gerri stroked her thumb across his cheekbone, “You really are one sick puppy.”
Roman gave her a tiny smile, “That’s why you like me, isn’t it?”
She leaned forward and planted a kiss on his forehead against her better judgement. This was all against her better judgement.
She ushered him out the door and shut it before he could say something stupid.
Roman’s question settled like a heavy blanket over her mind, but her answer weighed even more so. Maybe . Maybe she could be the one to teach him that not every hand stung.