Taking Light {Sequel: "For Love of Evil"}

-12-

Roman stood smoking a cigarette, his thoughts racing; thinking of ways to convince Lyra to terminate the pregnancy. He had been under the impression that Lyra was barren—which was why he had been so careless. Had he of known... Roman sighed heavily; knowing damn well it wouldn't have made a difference.

Self control was never his forte when it came to anything regarding Lyra. She had a power over him; a hold like invisible grappling hooks that dug into every part of his mind—his soul, if he had one.

The problem was that Roman never felt it necessary to pry them out. He trusted Lyra to steer him right. And now she was pregnant with his child—essentially, apart of himself was stealing her away from him.

Roman couldn't risk losing her... again. He had always feared another monster would come to take her away. But he was beginning to come to terms with the fact that there were frogs deadlier than sharks.

Peter stepped outside, closing the door behind him. The sound of his footsteps dragging Roman out of his own mind.

"Hey." Peter spoke low; his voice filled with pity, possibly remorse.

"Did she tell you?" Roman pointed toward the house, the lit cigarette between his fingers.

"Yeah, congratulations... again." Peter mumbled the last part, awkwardly scratching the nape of his neck. It was clear Roman was unhappy with the news; but then again, Roman was unhappy about everything.

Roman scoffed, taking a long final draw of his cigarette before flicking it off the porch.

"She could die, did she tell you that?"

Peter's lips formed a hard line. "Yeah, but she's not going to."

"How do you know that- how does she know that? And why the fuck does she even wanna risk it- what makes her think it's worth it?" Roman stood tall and defensive—ready for Peter to give his typical bullshit of an answer.

"You should ask her that. Instead of making this all about you- make it about Lyra for once." Peter stepped off the porch, stuffing his hands in his pockets to rid them of the cold chill in the air.

"We still on for tonight?" Roman asked, as if nothing had changed.

The truth was, Roman didn't want to be alone with Lyra—she hadn't been able to read his mind in the previous months; he had grown comfortable with that. But now he wasn't so sure—he didn't want Lyra knowing what he truly thought of their predicament; the reasons he didn't want her to keep it. He was scared of losing Lyra in more ways than one—his thoughts could potentially drive her away.

"Yeah... sure." Peter looked back at Roman over his shoulder, keeping his eyes averted.

Given the circumstances, Peter wasn't pleased he'd be spending his night with Roman. He couldn't help but to wonder what Lyra saw him—he was exactly as she had described: a self entitled, cocky, arrogant, prick with abandonment issues.

Roman entered the house, cringing as he closed the door—knowing he would be forced to face Lyra in the confines of his own home. He started up the stairs, but stopped when noticing Lyra sitting at the dining table.

Roman's jaw clenched, knowing that he couldn't avoid her forever, or at all.

Lyra's eyes stayed fixated on Roman's, watching him make his way to her. She didn't have to read his mind to know what he had planned to do. Roman did everything possible to get his way.

Roman pulled out a chair, having a seat next to Lyra at the table. He folded his arms on the surface, averting his gaze. He stared into nothing—his brows furrowed critically as if thinking.