Thrill

CHAPTER SIX

(Third Person's Pov)

Low grunts escaped his lips as his fists effortlessly attacked the punching bag, hung from the ceiling above. His hands ached, as energy pulsed through his veins, further encouraging his movement.

It was a Sunday. The only day of the week Roman had off from work. He was pent up with energy, ready to put it to some use, other than looking after six horses and an additional cow, that Mr Romino (his boss) had added to the stable. A workout was a brilliant alternative for Roman.

It had been more than a week since Roman had arrived to this town. Exactly eleven days, since he stepped into this town and began renting out the little home he currently lived in, nothing compared to the large one next to him. And as it had been eleven days since his transfer to this town, he could say only one thing to sum it up perfectly.

This town was strange. So awfully strange and foreign. At first, he didn't think so. In-fact, when he rushed away from the previous town he was staying at, and drove into 'Nuovovillie' he thought it was a perfect opportunity of starting off fresh and brand new.

There were things Roman was more than willing to leave behind in his old town. When he arrived at Nuovovillie , he thought it was a normal town. He knew most residents there spoke a mix of Italian and English, just like he had in his old town. But what he wasn't prepared for, was the change in sudden laws and rules.

Huffing, Roman stepped back from the punching bag, it still swaying from side to side from the impact of Roman's harsh fist that had struck it seconds ago. His chest, arms were glistening with fresh droplets of sweat. His jaw was tightly clenched, as heavy breaths left his lips.

He needed a break. As well as fresh air, and a quick smoke.

Letting his feet lead him to small terrace, attached to his bedroom, Roman ran a hand thoroughly through his hair, sighing to himself as he reached down to pick up the discarded packet of cigarettes from his bed.

When he slid the door open and stepped onto the terrace, the cold air instantly embraced his body, engulfing every inch of him and his bare skin. Along with any covered skin. He retrieved his lighter from the back pocket of his sweat pants and picked out a cigarette, placing it in his mouth. With a small press on the lighter, a flame erupted, burning the end of the white stick.

He sighed in relief, closing his eyes for a second.

The town had certain rules that Roman was introduced to last night. Herman Romino, his boss' son, dropped by to finish a conversation with him. At first it started off on the topic to do with his money and payment issues, how Roman would receive his monthly profit of $650 - to the abrupt, intense telling of traditions the town had required. 

Men and women outside marriage were not allowed to communicate. Men were not allowed to ogle women, the same way women were not allowed to ogle them. Men were expected to be the breadwinners for the family, whilst women were expected to be housewives. And men were seen as more superior to women, which Roman found to be a whole complete of bull. 

If you were to ask him, it was a straight up pile of sexist crap. He didn't find one single rule or whatever they liked to call it, acceptable. There was no need for any of the bullshit rules, women and men should be allowed to do as they pleased. Women were no less or better than men.

Where was the equality in this damn town?

When Herman enlightened Roman on this, he was completely shocked. He paused for second, brows furrowing as he stared at the curly haired man, looking for any trace of amusement that would suggest he was joking about. But he found none. Instead he was greeted with stern, serious eyes that slyly warned him to listen unless he wanted the worst to happen.