Burnt Sienna (Hemlock Grove // Roman Godfrey AU)

Cuts and Cures

The next morning as I drove to work, I witnessed a car accident. People were scurrying about in all the chaos, with no sense of what to do. I stopped the car and got up to see what I could do to help. As I walked closer to the accident site, I felt a sense of satisfaction. Content, like when you finally get to drink water after waiting a long time. I tried to ignore the feeling but as time passed, the feeling crept up on me. I pushed it away, telling some people I was headed to the White Tower where I was sure the accident victims could receive help. I offered to drive one of the people in my car and other stepped up to drive the others. As the situation became more organized, the satisfying feeling went away. Weird.

The victims got the help they needed and I walked through the halls, heading to my usual workspace. I heard something crash and later witnessed the office workers walking the opposite direction were intimidated. Again, that feeling came back. I shook the feeling off walking to Roman's cabin. He must have done something.

I was surprised he was back to work the next day after being in coma. I didn't want to face him, but I was curious to see what petty issue fueled his anger today. I didn't have to knock as the door was flung wide open. In front of me were fractions and shards of broken glass and a tablet tossed to one corner of the room.

"Mr. Godfrey, what's the matter?" I asked, syncing back with my professional work environment self. He looked at me, surprised I didn't leave.

"These dumbfucks don't know how to do anything right. Fucking idiots."

Something told me the matter wasn't what is seemed. He was bothered and just found this as a way to vent the anger.

I closed the door behind me to not draw more attention. Then I reached for the broken tab and started putting the glass pieces on top of it with a tissue. Roman stared out the window in frustration while I tried to clean up his mess.

I knew it was probably not the best time to ask but I still did. "Is Nadia okay?"

"Do you remember me telling you to keep her a secret?" Roman whispered but with anger.

"Yes. But I just want to know if she's alright," I looked at Roman. Distracted, a sharp piece of glass pierced through my palm. I winced in pain but did not make any noise. Roman was still looking out the window.

It was a deep cut, as blood did not take any time to begin dripping off my palm. I continued picking up the last of the glass pieces on the floor, then lifted the tablet with one hand, while my bleeding hand was concealed by the glass-embellished and blood-splotched tissue. With both hands occupied, there was no way I could open the door to get out.

I almost turned to ask Roman for help but he walked closer to me first. He grabbed the handle and began to push it down when he noticed my hand. Rolling his eyes, he walked back to his desk to grab some cotton, rubbing alcohol, and bandage.

"What an idiot," he shook his head as he took the broken tab, set it down on a side table, took me to his desk, and made me sit down in his office chair.

"You really don't have to," I said. "This hurts way less than when you strangled me."

Roman's face was etched with guilt as he took his eyes off my palm and to my neck. The nail marks were visible.

"And don't you dare mention me knocking you out. I apologized for that. I felt bad. I didn't mean to do it. But you don't even care. So stop pretending like you do now," I said as I got up from the chair. Roman put his two hands on my shoulders and made me sit down again. Then he knelt so he could be at eye-level with my hand.

"I'm sorry. You have to understand that I was scared for her. So I lost it. I should have thanked you for saving her," Roman said as he took out a cotton pad and poured rubbing alcohol on it. "This is going to hurt. But it'll be the best for you."

He placed the drenched pad on my palm and I tried not to flinch. He gently applied pressure so the blood would be gone.

"Does this make you hungry?" I asked, curious to know what was going around in Roman's mind.

"Not really. I'm not starving. Besides, the last time I had your blood, it didn't end well," he replied.

After the blood was wiped up, Roman bandaged my palm perfectly. I was surprised he knew how to do that.

"I used to do that sometimes for Shelley," Roman said as if he had read my mind.

"Oh. Thank you," I said. "Also, try not to be that mean to the people that work for you."

Roman gave a slight nod as he got up. I did too. I began to lift the tab with broken glass but Roman refused to let me.

"I'll call someone in. Go to work. And I'll call Pryce to let him know you were on time."

I said thanks again and headed to the lab. Roman Godfrey was confusing. This one of the million times he made me question whether he was inherently nice or mad. I stood here with my neck marred by his anger and palm wrapped gently in his care. It made no sense, but like most feelings related to him, I brushed it off and headed to doing my every-day tasks.