bobmckenzie

[bobmckenzie]

If You Love Me, Keep It To Yourself

summary: Natalie questions Roman about their two year anniversary

word count: ~1.9k

author's note: of course my anniversary fic for Roman had to be angst! how could it not be? i was excited to write and post this one because i missed our one year last year due to some personal issues. naturally, i had to make it hurt my own feelings! title is based off of one of my favorite Ethel Cain songs, Vacillator ♡

“So,” her posture was stiff and awkward. “Do you know what day it is today?”

Roman paused mid-bite and set his fork down, making it click softly against the table.

Yes. “Hmm, nope.”

Natalie looked hurt. “Really? You sure?”

I’m way too sure of it. “Yeah, it’s just um,” he glanced at his phone briefly for a bit of relief from her gaze. “Another Monday, you know?”

“I guess so.” She knew to drop it instead of pressing him for more. It would just make things even more uncomfortable.

This breakfast felt more like a work meeting than a loving meal. His side of the table was even littered with papers. Papers that he seemed to have an easier time paying attention to than her.

“Why do you ask?” Roman questioned, not looking up from his food.

It was a surprise that he was the one to ask. Usually, she had to initiate. Her attempts didn’t always work, either. Natalie shifted uncomfortably in her seat, suddenly feeling like the roles were reversed and now, she was the one expected to answer. A million answers ran through her head but instead of saying any of them, she just shrugged and played with her eggs.

The tension felt thick and heavy, almost suffocating. He felt a slight twinge in his chest as he looked at her. All he had to say was yes, he knew that it was their two year anniversary. All he had to do was ask what they wanted to do today. Ask if they wanted to go out to dinner, see a movie maybe, or just stay in and ignore the world for a single day. When he tried to force the words out, though, a lump formed in his throat that he had to swallow down with bitter coffee.

“Uh,” Roman cleared his throat, trying to stall for time. “Right, today’s the day, isn’t it?”

That answer felt satisfying enough. He looked to her for approval and felt a looming sense of dread as he watched Natalie swirl her fork around and around, mixing the eggs into a yellow paste. 

“Isn’t it?” He repeated, hoping that she just didn’t hear him.

She went still, jaw clenched. Roman watched her closely, unknowingly holding his breath as he waited for a response. Suddenly, it was his turn to want something, anything, in regards to today. He wanted to reverse it, to acknowledge the date and do something with it. But it was too late to try to fix it now, and he knew that. 

She slumped over, neatly placing her glasses on the dark table before hiding her face in her hands. The silence stayed for what felt like hours until she mumbled, “Is that all it is to you?”

Roman scoffed, rolling his eyes a little. “Isn’t that what you fucking wanted? For me to just, I dunno, say it? Well, there you go. I said it was the day.”

“I don’t know what I want from you anymore, Rome.” The words came out before she even had time to think about it. “I’m starting to think that asking for anything, no matter how small, is always too much for you.”

He sat there frozen, not knowing how to reply to that. How long had she been thinking this? It hurt having it thrown at him so suddenly. Especially after he made himself spit out the fact that it was their anniversary today

“I did what you fucking wanted.” He said again, only this time with a little more vitriol. 

Natalie sighed and finally gave up. She slipped her glasses back on and went back to twirling her fork around her plate. “Sure.”

“What? Didn’t I?”

“You’re the one who said it was just a typical day. I don’t know why you seem to care now.”

Roman was at a loss. Suddenly, he didn’t want to pull away from this anymore. The thought of getting up, offering a gentle touch, and apologizing crossed his mind, but he stayed seated. A victim to his own hesitation, he simply watched and waited. Watching her look so down and refusing to maintain eye contact with him made him ache in ways he wasn’t used to. His heart felt heavy in his chest. It felt like it was weighing him down, making him immobile.

“I…” It came out hoarse and he seemed to jump at the sound of his own voice. The words love you sat on his tongue, almost suffocating him. All he had to do was spit it out. “Um, I, uh, I mean, do you–shit! What the fuck do you want from me, Nat? Fuck, I don’t get it.”

Regret seeped in as soon as he snapped at her. His voice echoed in the room, making Natalie flinch and tense up. The silence from earlier returned with a vengeance and somehow, it felt so loud to him.

Before he could say anything, she quietly mumbled, “I just wanted something about us to matter to you. I’m sorry.”

Being loved isn’t something that felt natural to him. Real, genuine love. The kind Natalie always offered to him and had for the past two years. It was such a strange and wonderful thing to be loved. Agonizing and painful, too. He didn’t know what to do with all the love he held in his heart for her; it made him uneasy. It didn’t feel natural to him so, he did what he does best: he pulled away.

Ashamed, he casted his gaze down to his now cold breakfast. He never thought someone would want to take him in and yet, she did. For two years, she did. 

With a small sniffle, Natalie hung her head back down and hid her face from him. From his spot at the table, he could see her nose turning a soft red and her mouth turned downward. She stayed hunched over with her clenched fists resting on the table. In the silence, soft sobs could be heard.

“Shit,” he scrambled to get up, making the chair screech against the tile floor. Once again, he was lost. His feelings for her were too much for him and he was drowning on dry land. Yet, he couldn’t ever properly show that to her. It was too much to handle.

Now, she was crying and he only had himself to blame.

“Nat, I–”

I love you.

“Rome, don’t.”

“Please, uh, I don’t know what to do.”

I love you.

“I don’t mean to be too much. I…I know better.”

Roman stood beside her, feeling completely useless. “Fuck, don’t say that. Please? I–fuck, what do I do here?”

How can I tell you I love you?

She looked up at him with watery eyes. The sight alone made him feel like he was about to break. “You don’t have to do anything. We don’t have to make today anything special, okay? I know better.”

“Stop saying that.” He knelt beside her and sighed. “I don’t…I don’t know why I do this, okay? Um, seriously, what do I do?”

Natalie shook her head. “It’s okay, really. Your food’s cold now. Do you want something else?”

This was it. 

This was her giving up on today. 

There was nothing he could do to reverse it, even if he tried now.

The only thing he could think to do was pathetically reach out for her hand, desperate for any kind of connection between them now. Rubbing his thumb lightly against her wrist, he gave her a pitiful look before pleading, “Please, please, Nat, tell me. Tell me what to do.”

“It’s okay–”

“No,” he pulled himself to her. Roman was practically laying in her lap now. “No, please, tell me. I don’t…I don’t know how to do this stuff. You gotta help me.”

She sniffled and wiped her nose with the back of her hand. The roles reversed now, with him begging and her resisting. The push and pull cycle they both were too familiar with. A sad smile tugged at one corner of her mouth as she reached out to cradle his cheek.

“I mean it. It’s okay, okay? It’s just another Monday.”

His bottom lip quivered at the feeling of her warm hand on his face. Roman shook his head, not accepting the answers she had been giving him. “No, it can’t be too late. Please, I’m trying here. I am really fucking trying. I-I’m sorry, okay?”

“I’ve already forgiven you.”

“You shouldn’t.

“Roman–”

“Natalie,” he grabbed her waist, staring at her with wide, sad eyes. “I fucked up, okay? I always do. I did it again. I…The uh, the lovey thing, it’s weird. It’s too fucking weird for me. But I…I love you.”

Natalie started to pet his hair. “I know.”

“I mean it. I love you. I love you. How many times can I say it to make it up to you? I don’t know what I’m fucking doing. I never have.” His grip on her tightened. Through her shirt, he could feel the warmth of her skin. Warmth and comfort he knew he didn’t deserve and yet was being given freely to him.

“I love you too.” Her voice was gentle and kind. “So, so much. We don’t need a specific day to prove that. I’m sorry for pushing.”

She wasn’t, though. They both knew that. Why was she still resisting? Why wouldn’t she yield to him again? 

Roman shook his head, unsatisfied with her answer. “I love you too much. No, wait, I don’t love you enough. Or maybe I don’t show it enough? Shit, I don’t know. I don’t know, Natalie. I…It makes me feel weird. I feel so funny.”

“Shush,” she pulled his head into her lap, making him feel so small. “It’s okay, I promise. I know it’s hard. It’s a little hard for me, too.”

The corner of his eyes stung a little and he squeezed them tightly to prevent any tears from falling. His feelings were overwhelming him. More than they usually did. Roman never knew how to properly respond to them, so he always pushed everyone away and always wondered why no one would come back.

Except for her.

Natalie was always the only one to come back when he asked. Even before they were an item, she was always there beside him despite him shoving her off more times than he’d be willing to admit to. After a few deep breaths, he nuzzled into her thighs and mumbled, “I’m sorry. I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

“And um, happy anniversary. That’s what real human people couples say, right?”

She laughed and ran her fingers through his now messy hair. It brought him some comfort. Maybe things were sort of okay. “Yes, Rome. That’s what real couples, like us, say on days like these.”

He tilted his head to the side so he could look at her. “Wouldn’t it be kind of fucked up if I proposed right now?”

“Fucked up how? Because it proceeded whatever this was or the fact that you’d have to admit that you love me again?”

“Well, since you say it like that, you don’t get to marry the only guy in the city with any sex appeal. Your loss, really.”

“I love you, too.”

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[bobmckenzie]

THE CHARACTER

[bobmckenzie]

The Losers #3 - Goliath, Part Two (August 27, 2003)

writer: Andy Diggle | artist [penciller and inker]: Mark Simpson (AKA Jock) | colorist: Lee Loughridge | letterer: Clem Robins | editor: Will Dennis | assistant editor: Zachary Rau | publishing company: Vertigo [DC Comics]

[bobmckenzie]

[bobmckenzie]

~ The Losers - Quotes (2010) ~

[bobmckenzie]

tomorrow after work I get to eat good pizza AND Im gonna make Jensen in sims4 so I can have a reference for like. how I picture him based on the comics :)c yippee!!!

[bobmckenzie]

my "year in books" for last year on goodreads is so funny for no reason

[bobmckenzie]

me liking all of your blorboposting even though i couldn’t tell you their name, media, or a fun fact about them

[bobmckenzie]

hey. reblog and tell me (either in tags or replies idc) a meal or food you associate with your selfship/fictional other. bonus points if you give me the backstory behind why !!!

[bobmckenzie]

dont have the right glasses and the hair color is all wrong but.... sims2 milty.... <3

[bobmckenzie]

I'm here before you for the art requests to humbly request a Louis

he got that dog in him

[bobmckenzie]

[bobmckenzie]

proship, variants, neutral and rpf dni.

[bobmckenzie]

I know it was a long shift when I come home and daydream about an f/o massage 💀 happens every time, without fail LOL

GOODNIGHT ❤️

[bobmckenzie]

oh my god. he's wearing a dawn of the dead shirt. final nail found in coffin

[bobmckenzie]

HES WEARIN' A HAT...

[bobmckenzie]

...can I say something.. ... . . ... .