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

-11-

"What the fuck man, I told you to stay away from her." Peter sneered, taking a draw of his cigarette, shifting his eyes away from Roman. "She's just gonna get in the way of this. You know it too, you're just blinded by her tits."

"Her ass, mostly." Roman played along snarky. The end of his cigarette glowed orange in the night as he imagined Lyra standing before him.

Her long, raven-like hair and piercing blue eyes that reminded him of crystals. The contrast of her dark hair against her light skin appealed to Roman visually, more than any other girl he had ever seen.

He couldn't make sense of his feelings toward this one individual. It was as though she was the only suitable mate he could ever have. Other girls were simply invisible, as if they did not exist in Roman's world. He didn't understand how Peter couldn't see it for himself, but Lyra belonged to Roman now, even if she didn't know it yet.

"Tits, ass... it doesn't matter, you just admitted it. She's just gonna get in the way, I can feel it." Peter said, flicking his cigarette onto the ground before chugging his beer. His blue eyes shifted back to Roman to see him staring up at the moon.

"What if you're wrong? What if... she's the answer to all this?"

"Or the one responsible for it." Peter said, causing Roman's head to snap in his direction, away from the moon. "I can feel there's something going on with her. I don't know what it is, but something's not right."

"She said her dad is... whatever she is. He works for Pryce, at the institute. There's gotta be some fucked up shit going on in that place, because I have dreams about it."

"Well, you had some pretty messed up dreams about Lyra. But instead of taking it as a warning, you took it upon yourself to fuck her." Peter smirked with pursed lips, his brows raising at Roman's stupidity.

"Full moon's coming up soon, we need to be prepared." Roman pressed. "Which means we need all the help we can get."

"You should just go ahead and ask me, Roman. Ask me if your little demon girlfriend can tag along." Peter nudged Roman's shoulder, knocking him off his balance. Roman pushed back, with a smile sprouted across his lips. "I swear though Roman, if she causes this thing to go to shit, it's on you."

"Scouts honor." Roman said, giving Peter the three finger solute before flicking his cigarette out into the night.

The two stared up at the moon as a cool breeze swept by. Even though Roman feared whatever was lurking in the shadows, the silhouette within his own mind terrified him even more.

His self hatred grew as the days passed, the only thing that eased his own burden was Lyra Cambion. Which was why he needed her with him when they began to track down the vargulf.

Peter wanted Roman to stay away from Lyra. Not only because he believed she would slow them down on their quest to find out who had murdered Anita Parker, but because he knew she was bad for Roman.

He had dreamed it.

Although Peter would never tell Roman, he had seen it. The old abandoned building with the name "Godfrey" written on the side in bold, black letters. Long steel beams and darkness. He saw her sitting in the muck; her red v-neck sweater and light-wash jeans, her face splotched in red and dirt. Her hair was pulled back in a knot as tears of distress glistened her face as she stared into nothing. He saw blood... a vargulf standing in the distance under a half moon with Roman nowhere in sight.

Peter had a bad feeling about Lyra because he had seen a bad ending. Things did not end well among them.

"So it was good, right? Totally worth it?" Peter asked, trying to bury the dream deep within his mind to keep his friend happy.

"You have no idea. If sex is like air, Lyra is like... my lungs or some shit." Roman chuckled.

"Shee-it." Peter smirked, trailing his eyes to Roman, hiding his fear of the unknown.

"Shee-it."

Peter glanced back at the trailer, finishing off his beer. "It's getting late. I'll see you tomorrow?"

Roman nodded, trailing to his car. He thought of stopping by Lyra's house on the way home. His thoughts of Lyra were becoming obsessive; his mind raced with images of the dark haired beauty as if they had never been to bed together.

His lust for the girl was too intense, even for him. Roman had never in his life felt so drawn to someone. But, why? What if Peter was right - what if she was forcing him to feel this way, perhaps subconsciously due to whatever kind of monster she was beneath her pretty flesh.