#roman amado oc | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

waddei · 1 month

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full story behind these two images (6.5k words open at your own risk)

pacing back and forth in the damp grass roman bit his nails waiting for tomas to pick up the phone.

“cmon…cmon…”

his boots splashes on the muddy puddles, staining his soles.

“fuck..”

a small click from the phone made him jump.

“tom thank god-”

“what do you want” his friend whisper shouts. voice as always a strange mix between quiet but assertive.

“i need your help” he says with far too little shame for someone calling in the middle of the night.

the wind hit his back harsher than before now, dark clouds swerved above him and he could only pray that the night ended with a storm. He can imagine himself, staring through the window at the flooding street with a grin, watching the rushing mud and sand wash the town clean.

tom doesn't answer,but thats normal by now.

“its important” he begs, a ‘please’ goes unsaid for his own egos sake.

“lets meet at our spot shall we?” he sounds as frantic as his heartbeat feels, tom mooks him from the comfort of his home with an intentionally loud sip of his mug.

he doesnt let the distance stop him from feeling those hollow green eyes stare down at him

“what did you do” tom asks, impatient. for what though, roman doesn't know, that sense of hurry around him never faded.

he swallows as he looks down at his feet. resting next to them in the grass was the man's head, his nose had long stopped bleeding and lifeless eyes stared up at him in long ignored plea of mercy, they were starting to gloss over. roman bit back a sound of disgust.

“i cant tell you right now.just come here”

tom gave a long heavy sigh “my brother’s sleeping” he said, like it mattered at all.

“do i look like i care?" he snarled “bring your bike too if you're coming”

the body below him caught his eye again. it was fairly tall,only a few inches short of himself,which was impressive in its own right.

“two trash bags too if you happen to have any”

“two?”

“yes… two”

tom huffed and the call was cut with no goodbye, again ,not unusual but it never failed to annoy him.

with a groan he squats down in the grass, careful not to stain his jeans neither green nor red.

he feels unseeing eyes burn his back.the body had not moved, obviously, its mouth hanged open after having its last words die on his tongue.

He doubts he would have had anything of value to say anyways.

The bastard,miserable not unlike himself, chose to go down swearing until the very end when, after the reality of his situation dawned on him, he began pleading and bargaining like he was talking to the devil. which, if you where to ask anyone else, he was.

his last words where as nonsensical as they were a threat.

Roman doubts it'll amount to anything, after all the plan was to not get caught.

as for the rest of ‘the plan’ as he likes to call it: it didn't have any more steps for now. at least until tom got here, he'll figure it out from there.

He looks up at the moon,bright and unusually big. She sat in the sky directly above him like an otherworldly spotlight parting through the clouds with little struggle,he revels in it even if just for a moment. his childish fascination with her never quite faded.

the wind continued to ruin his moment, swaying tree branches dangerously close to his face, his jacket wasn't enough to keep out the cold, shamefully he wrapped his arms around himself.

a leaf smacks him in the face. He rips the small branch out.

‘tom should be on his way already’-he thinks to distract himself- ‘if he's even coming’.

he's sure he will, where else would he go?

man of habit he is,he’ll find his way here eventually even if roman hadn't called him, he's sure of that. hed make his rounds like he always does and, eventually, they'd meet again even if he didnt move an inch until then.

he doesn't want to move really,not at all. feeling like he's putting his life on the line if he leaves the corpse alone.

walking through the dense vegetation wasn't easy, he envies the ease tom seemed to have with it.

He makes it to a clearing in the bushes, a familiar checkpoint when traversing the landscape that tom had originally shown him.

he skips right through it this time, heading for a particular tall tree that stood out against the horizon.

at its base was everything he ever needed.

Tom, with his bike and two large trash bags pooling out of his cammo vests pockets.

his head snaps to look at him once he crosses the threshold to ‘their place’.

a nice, semi enclosed area by the base of a tree older than everyone they've ever meet where a fallen log made a makeshift bench. tom was sitting on it with his bike next to him.

wordlessly and shielding his shaking hands he motions for him to follow and Tom does so with a disinterested look.

roman begins leading him to the scene.

tom jumps over the bushes roman had gotten his pants caught on before. “what did you do?” he asks, verbatim as he had done so on the phone. roman ignores him and hops over a hole in the dirt, tom follows and he helps him haul his bike over it.

they reach the clearing, small drops of water already drizzling made each blade of grass sparkle.

tom stares at them as he always does,roman assumes a certain fascination with it might exist but the boy's eyes remain as painfully neutral as they always do.

he does not bother hurrying him up as he too takes a moment to stare, only he looks up at the moon instead, trying to steady his trembling hands.

they move on once tom grows bored of watching the ants or whatever. Roman leads him to the other semi cleared area where he knew the body was.

parting the bushes for tom like the gentleman he is, he lets him take a good look at the scene before saying anything. He takes note of how wide his eyes grow as he scans the ground in front of him. a horrified look begins to paint itself on his face.

it doesn't last much, the small flash of emotion was quickly drowned out by his usual apathetic look.

“what did you do?” he asks for the third time, carefully looking at him up and down with a hint of disgust showing through the ice.

“i think its obvious” roman jumps over closer to the body and further away from tom.

“i fucked up..” he sais with his hands on his hips in a vain attempt a showmanship. “went a bit too far this time”

tom crouches down near his foot and near the man's head, his eyes go wide again when he makes eye contact with it. he watches incredulously as roman, nonchalantly, nudges an arm with his foot.

“i think i might need some help” its a bold thing to admit for someone like him, tom doesn't fail to notice it.

greyish green eyes narrow on him like a hawk and with a single precise motion he throws the trash bags at his feet.

“im not touching it” he declares with a tone that leaves no room for argument.

that's fine, a sensible boundary even. all he needed was the bike and the bags. He opens up the folded bags and lays them in the ground next to the body while avoiding his friends stare.

“welp” he announces to no one, for he knows tom isn't paying attention. “lets get to work”

with more effort than expected he sits the man,dead as he was, against a short stump.

a phone falls out of his pockets in the meanwhile, tom immediately smashes it below his foot. roman jumped “whats your problem?”

“they can track that” he stomps on it again for good measure.

“i could have sold it-”

“tell me what happened”

tomas isn't someone he’d call intimidating. the boy was as thin as one can get and a full head shorter than him, but he was hard to read. impossible even. it scared roman in a very specific way he struggled to explain.

he sighs, with the stars as witnesses he pulls the man's legs closer to his chest.

“well we were just supposed to fight. fucker slipped me a note with a date and place and i just came-uhmp!” He struggled with folding the arms over the chest.

“and?” tom pressed.

“well i had a bad day! and He was pissing me off more than usual..” he takes one last look at the mans’s face, ridden with bruises and with an undeniably broken nose, his eyes couldn't glare at him anymore. “so once i had him down i just kept stomping on his head”

it felt strange to admit it so easily. tom winced and looked away back to the clearing.roman took this as a cue to finally fit the first bag over the corpse's head. it covered it all the way to his hips as he expected.

the legs turn out to be much harder to lift than anticipated but he makes due without help. Once the two bags meet he ties them both together at various points until the body is fully secured inside, clumsily wrapped like a home cooked meal.

he giggles at the thought,Tomas glares at him again.

"we have to get this out of sight somehow" he mumbles "do you still have that shovel in your garage?"

Tom doesn't answer, but he does not freeze either. He stares intently at him, watching him struggle to balance the body on the bike;he sets it with its legs between the front bar where he,while driving, could hold it still.

struggling to drive the bike through the bushes he almost misses Tom silently walking away.

"hey!" he almost loses hold of the handles. "where are you going?"

the boy jumps the bushes into the clearing. his hair sways violently with the wind but Tomas never seemed to mind the way it covered his eyes at random.

"you want the shovel right?" he spits,not bothering to look back at him.

A smile creeps up his face and he bares his teeth like a child;far too giddy even for his own comfort he watches his friend walk away.

in the meanwhile a thought emerges, unwanted and uncalled for, a little voice inside himself that trembled and stuttered at every word like he's sure he used to 'what if he tells on you' it whispers into his ear 'what if he tells his brother'

he groans, pushing the bike up another bush. tomas wouldn't, he barely fucking talks in the first place. that won't happen.

the bag slumps forward,too distracted to catch it he lets the corpse hit its head against the front wheel.

he snorts imagining how it's nose must have flattened against it. his shoulders immediately sag after, there's a dirty feeling that comes with laughing at a corpse,no less one you've killed.

He reaches a big rock, too big to jump over,too heavy to lift and too annoying to push the bike around.

scanning the skyline he sees nothing but short,spiky bushes and scattered trees in front of him. the already dim lights of the town were completely lost from sight. the wind lifted up the sandy ground into his eyes but aside from that? it was a perfect spot.

He sets the bag on the ground, letting the bike and himself rest.

now he waits.

He can do nothing without something to dig with. He can get as many rocks out the way as he wants but that in the end doesn't take too long.

he looks up, the moon hadn't moved much from when he last saw her,now without branches to bother him the ghostly light pools over him.The stars shine brighter here in the open field, they occasionally peek from behind the rapidly moving clouds. He lets himself relax,leaning over the hard rock. even with the cold freezing his face a sigh escapes him, carelessly he kicks the bag away and rests his legs over another rock. thunders threatens to make the sky fall on him,he cant bring himself to care.

the beating inside his chest slows down for the first time since the man's head hit the floor. leaves and sand fly at his face so his eyes shut on their own.

'hes taking too long' the meek voice whispers. Tom's house was not too far, but without his bike it's quite the trip. He's not taking detours, his brother was asleep.

‘shut the fuck up’ he mentally yells at it.

his head drifts and he slowly sinks down as he lets himself lay down more and more against the rock.

ignoring the way the cold bites at his skin he rests.

with his eyes closed he can't tell if hes asleep or not until he feels movement on the bushes.

before he can open his eyes to check he's smacked in the stomach with a blunt object.

roman jumps to his feet, hands balled up and ready to fight but before him stood tomas. with a shovel.

"thank God" his hands fall to his sides again.

Tom's hands extend, silently offering him the shovel.

he takes it with a quick remark."you scared me"

tomas ignores him again and sits down on a different rock a few steps away, staring at the floor he snaps a branch off one of the nearby bushes.

"well!" he dusts his pants off, mostly to amuse himself "I better get to work now!

the shovel was small, not meant for anything more than some mild garnering or playing in the sand. it stood to about his knee when he stuck it in the ground;still he had to make this work.

bit by bit he began shoveling the sandy dirt out of the way,he would have been sweating hadn't he already been freezing.

"y'know when you mentioned-" the shovel struck a rock, he struggled to lift it up again "having a shovel I wasn't expecting it to be so-" the rocks pops out the ground successfully "small"

he complains to the wind, because tom wasn't listening and even if he was he was not going to respond.

"should have told me it was more of a toy than anything-"

"there's blood in your hands now" tom cuts him off, fancying himself a cryptic bastard all of a sudden.

roman scoffs "no there isn't,I get any on me"

the conversation, if you could even call it that, dies there. buried with the other guy most likely.

dry grass swayed, some of it stuck to his hair, some brushed at his arms and legs.

most of it he ripped off.

Tom's wordless stare burned on his back, but at least he wasn't alone. his own heartbeat set a rhythm for the shovel going in and out the dirt. the mount behind him grew bigger as the stars moved closer to the Horizon.

"it's 4:36 already" the boy spoke up eventually.

roman took the last bit of dirt off the hole. "I'm almost done" carelessly he began pushing the bag into the it with his foot.

tomas waits for the wind to quit loudly howling on their ears to speak again . "my brother wakes up at 5:30"

he clicks his tongue, being a little meaner than he intended "I don't care-"

"he'll notice if I'm gone,give me the shovel back"

roman ignores him, instead hitting the bag with it, making it go down further into the dirt.

"give me 5 more minutes with it" he argues, not bothering to wait for a response.

quickly he covers the hole back up and, as soon as he dusts his hands and before he declares his work done, tom rips the shovel out of his hands. roman doesn't protest when their eyes lock for a second too long.

he stares at the ground where he knows the body is. only shooting a goodbye to Tom once he hears him pick his bike up.

he doesn't doubt the boy waved at him.

he always did.

He picked his bike up and drove through the terrain like it was nothing, roman knows he has been here before, but he doubts he'll come back.

confidently roman adds ‘corpses’ to his (mental and very short) list of things he knows tomas does not like.it sat comfortably next to some classics like: ‘talking’,‘strawberries’ and ‘staying still’

he giggles at it, although more concerning probably was that he couldn't name a single thing tom liked aside from walking and probably the color green, nor a single other person he knew aside from himself and his brother.

a brother that to this day remained unnamed.

He has fun imagining what he'd be like sometimes, there's plenty of time to kill during the day after all.

‘he probably wouldn't like to meet you’ a weaker version of himself comments, he ignores it.

a single drop soaking through his jacket was enough to drag him back to reality.

the clouds had grown darker, they obscured the moon completely now.

he fills his chest with the salty humid air one last time before turning his back on the burial and heading back the same way Tom had.

he avoids the kill site and prays to no god in particular that the rain was enough to wash it all clean. it was starting to pick up now so the world might be on his side after all.

He reaches the port before he does any roads, the rotten wooden docks left much to be desired but he was used to them now, as a child he had enjoyed watching the crabs that lived under it bury themselves in the sand. the river led directly to the sea. Fisher boats rested on the sand,some new and shiny, most rusted and abandoned for tourists to take pictures next to.

bright yellow street lamps made the raindrops much more evident.

taking the chance he looked at his reflection in a closed storefront, he looked as he always had,just a bit more wet. his mask was getting a bit uncomfortable but it stayed on.

the paved road was the longest way back but he takes it anyway,more mud on his shoes wouldn't be ideal. He blindly walks until he reaches one of the two main roads in the town with a stoplight in it. he turns right, avoiding walking by it for too long, the backstreets being even more empty if this was possible.

thunder roared above him and a smile tugged at his lips. almost immediately the light rain turned into a violent outpour,but that didn't matter, he could see his house from here already.

doing his best to not wake anyone up Roman limbs to his window like he always does though this time the heavy rain helps disguise the noise.

before he sets foot inside,still sitting on the windowsill, he take this shoes off and carries them to the bathroom.

the jacket lands in the floor and his pants on top of the toilet as he tears his soaked clothes off without much care and almost trips trying to plug the hairdryer on.

he sets it balanced against a shampoo bottle and pointing at his jacket, hoping to dry it while he, using a random brush his mom used to clean the ceramic, aggressive cleaned the mud off his shoes in the shower.

in the meantime the rain got worse-or better if you where to ask him. his mom's carefully pruned garden began to flood and soon so did the street. the dirt ones-he assumes-aren't doing much better.

he gets giddy at what that means for him tonight.

He dries his clothes, washes his hair and cleans his shoes. by the time he's done it's nearing 7am already.

he goes to sleep, the rain still falling above the house served well for white noise.

the trees outside slammed their branches into his window but his eyes remained shut.

the brewing storm outside promised flow but he didn't care.

his brother was snoring again, he could hear it even with the wind whistling louder and louder. javier was a heavy sleeper, tomas envied him for that.

deep breath after deep breath he failed to fall asleep for the third night in a row,though at least today he had more of an excuse. the branches scratching at his window are more than distracting.

he stares at the back of his eyelids for some time, he can feel the gears on his alarm clock ticking,the hands moving

every second.

every minute.

every hour.

it marked 2:30 am.

too tired to sleep, Tomas springs out of his bed in frustration.

his feet blindly find his slippers and he's off to the hallway in less than 3 steps.

he takes a practiced route to the kitchen, practically blind he feels the texture of the floor change From the more textured tiles of the hallway to the smooth, cream colored ones on the kitchen. he pries his eyes open but the darkness doesn't get any better until he hits the light switch next to the door.

the wind makes the windows shake and creak, it drowns over the sound of the cabinet opening perfectly.

the movement is near automatic when he fills a small pot with water and sets it on the stove. tomas opens the gas tank and lights the burner on.

from a small box his mother had left them behind he takes a teabag while the water boils.

the kitchen small window leaked the same way it had been leaking since they where kids, tomas stepped over the small puddle to grab his cup from the cabinet and brew himself something warm.

as he blows on it, the phone at the corner of the room lights up.

at this hour and with this climate there was only one person that could call.

so,at this hour and with this climate tom let's it ring for a minute or two while stirring his drink.

roman is persistent, and eventually he lets himm get his way.

"tom thank god-" wind came through the other end stronger than his voice.

"what do you want"

he hears roman swallow "I need your help"

aware of how those words burned his tongue yhe lets them sit in the air.

Uncaring, he waits for roman to get tired of waiting.

"it's important" he clarifies uselessly "let's meet at out spot shall we?" he rushed over his words, trembling slightly.

the cold must be getting to him-tomas thinks. he wraps his hand around the warm mug and takes a sip, loudly savoring it.

he can feel roman grow impatient.

"what did you do" he asks him, wary of the volume in his voice to not wake his brother up even with the incoming storm raging outside.

roman swallows, he hears the gears on his head turning even though the heavy winds. his tongue clicks a few times while he's lost in thought.

“i cant tell you right now.just come here”

tomascarefully eyes the hallway, still dark and with only javi's snores coming through.he gave a long sigh.

“my brother's sleeping” he said,more so as a comment than an excuse.

“do i look like i care?" roman growled at him, needlessly angry like always “bring your bike too if you're coming”

he went quiet again, tomas wished he could see his face at least. He hated talking through the phone.

he hears him take another deep breath, “two trash bags too if you happen to have any”

the wind filled the silence on both sides,his brother was still sleeping.

“two?” tomas eyes the drawer where javier keeps them.

“yes… two”

he hangs up,taking another sip in the meanwhile.

the dots are not hard to connect, it was going to happen eventually.

his fingers curled tightly around the cup.

with a deep breath tomas dumps the remaining tea down the drain and rushes to the hallway.

at the end of it was his brothers door, halfway open and with its handle poorly painted.

"javi" he calls out, quiet enough to not wake him up but loud enough that if he where to be awake he'd hear it.

the only answer he gets is a loud snore.

avoiding looking at himself in the hallway mirror like always he makes his way to his room.

the curtains where drawn, the orange fabric tinted gray by the dark sky behind it.

He closes the blinds like he should have before going to sleep.

his bedsheets were still in the mess he had left them in and they will stay like that for now.

tomas changes out of his old pajama shorts in favor of a pair of dark jeans, over his shirt he throws on a dark long sleeved one and then a puffy vest after hearing the wind seemingly pick up even more.

he doesn't take his phone with him, roman was an idiot for taking his.

He stands before the wooden door now, heavy and old it'll surely wake javier up if he opens it. the keys dangling were already too noisy for him to feel safe holding them. The 3 locks taunted him. not to mention the extra bar door outside with its extra two locks, he took his eyes away from it when the window creaked once again.

it led to the patio, right in front of the grill they never use.

he took off the teaspoon that had been acting as a lock for years now after the wooden hook had snapped on an storm not too dissimilar from this one.

the wind immediately threw the glass open and he fought to keep them from slapping against the wall.

tomas grinded his teeth, climbing on top of the couch and pilling on the cushions behind him to block the window he eventually took the small leap into the outside.

immediately he doubled over shivering. warm air form his mouth formed vapor clouds in front of him.

he rushed down the stairs to the street, taking a sharp turn to the garage he where fiddles for a minute with the lock. the gates draw sand with them when they open and next to javiers beat up sienna was his bike, slightly rusted from pedaling in the sand.

the fig tree swayed it's branches dangerously low to the ground and to his face, it slapped the back of his head as a goodbye when he jumps the front gate.

he braces himself under the yellow streetlight, getting on his bike the wind hits even harder.

knowing the dirt street like the back of his hands he swiftly dodges potholes and rocks. passing by the same houses he always did, Tomas takes the last street along to the beach all the way to the very back of the town.

his heart races when he spots the bushes he's about to go into.

the empty, wild terrain, was uninhabited.tainted only sometimes and near the road with attempts at building makeshift houses or old tent set ups abandoned. he never bothered fucking with any of them.

above the unfinished foundation and trash stood an unfinished two story house, all bare bricks except for it's roof which had surprisingly been finished but now was partially caving in.

he ignored it for now. he knew what it's inside looked like down to every graffiti painted, but it served as a nice checkpoint to know where he was going.

turning a sharp left from the front of the house where the bushes began to become trees one large one stood out, literally, above the rest.

his second checkpoint.

‘their spot'

he gets there with ease, and now he waits. thankfully not for long.

the cold humid air was soured when roman, panting and trembling, jumped over the bushes to meet him.

he doesn't say as much as a hello. only becoming him to follow.

so Tomas, against his better judgment and like he always does, follows.

looking from side to side every time a leaf swayed Roman led the way, clearly not comfortable having his back turned on him he looks back to meet green tired eyes multiple times. they narrow on him, and tomas is sure he can feel it.

“what did you do” he asks, just like he had before.

roman stutters in his step, almost tripping on the grass, but he doesn't respond. he silently offers help to haul his bike over a hole,tomas takes it.

they reach a clearing in the trees soon enough. the air became thick and uncomfortable almost immediately. it's an energy tomas can't describe, but he's sure he knows what it is deep inside.

he stops, bowing his head down to think.

roman gladly waits for him, spelling out that he, in a way, didn't want to continue either;he stares at the moon with silent guilt weighing his eyes.

they moved on eventually, when tomas wraps his head around the atmosphere and roman quits brooding the later parts the bushes for the former.

tom jumps without looking ahead.

previously blocked by Romans back he saw a man, unconscious, laying in the grass.

his eyes glazed over.

his mouth hanged open.

his face with no spot left unbruised.

he saw a man,dead, laying on the grass

“what did you do?” tomas asks for the third time. eyeing Roman up and down with barely disguised disgust showing I'm his eyes.

“i think its obvious” roman jumps over closer to the body and further away from himself. “i fucked up” he says with faux boredom coating his tongue “went a bit too far this time”

tomas crouches down near the man's head, inspecting with a heavy hearth it's expression twisted in a final scream of anguish.

he watches incredulously as roman, with needles fake casualty nudges an arm with his foot. “i think i might need some help”

tomas, understaiding, tosses the bags his way. “I'm not touching it”

roman huffs.

“welp” he announces, ignoring the way tomas burns his eyes into him “lets get to work”

tomas watches him struggle with the body, trying to make it sit.

the man's phone falls out his Pockets and he panics. He immediately smashes it below his foot.

roman jumped “whats your problem?”

“they can track that” he stomps on it again for good measure.

“i could have sold it-” roman whines.

“tell me what happened” he more or less barks at him, wincing at the volume of his own voice.

roman gives a shaky sigh, pleading to the sky for strength to help him pull the man's legs closer to his chest while he talks.

“well,we were just supposed to fight” his gaze drifted over the body, faltering for only one second before continuing.

“fucker slipped me a note with a date and place and i just came-uhmp!” he interrupted himself, struggling with the bodies limbs.

“and?” tom pressed.

“well i had a bad day! and He was pissing me off more than usual..” he splutters, throwing the dead man a Nasty look like he could see it. “so once i had him down i just kept stomping on his head”

his gut twists in disgust. roman, completely occupied with the task at hand, didn't notice.

he turns his eyes back to the clearing where the soft grass swayed in the strong wind.

tomas hears roman fitting the bags over the man. a soft giggle, tone-deaf if you where to ask him, leaves his lips when he finishes. he doesn't know what came first, if the head or the legs but when he turns his head to glare at roman the man is fully covered.

"we have to get this out of sight somehow”

roman talks to himself.

tomas bites his tongue.‘we is a strong word’

unaware roman keeps going "do you still have that shovel in your garage?”

not waiting for an answer roman grabs his bike like it belonged to him and,with little consideration for its owner standing behind him, balances the bags on it.

he hopes he can feels his eyes burning his back.

he watches, still struggling to believe it all, how his friend handled the corpse like it was no more than an inconvenience, cursing quietly to himself trying to thread the bike over a bush.

he'd love to be surprised to see the utter lack of care on the man's eyes.

he's grown accustomed to it,it always lingered whenever he talked about anything that wasn't himself,though tomas struggled to call him narcissistic; there's a slight difference between believing you're above everything and believing everything is below you.

a certain nihilism always accompanies the latter. he knew this to be true, roman wasn't particularly shy about it. pessimistic anger coated his every word when they pertained to the world outside their own bubble.

he watches the only person outside his own brother that he's directed as much as a word towards in the last 6 months struggle with the corpse of the man he’d just killed.

silently as always, he makes a choice and jumps into the clearing.

"hey!" his friend calls out "where are you going?"

"you want the shovel right?" He avoids romans eyes. not letting him see the guilt welling on his own.

As soon as he's out of sight he sprints through the trees, blindly jumping and dodging until he hits the road again. out of breath he pushes himself, filling his mind with every minute detail of the dirt road below his feet to black out any other thoughts.

his chest burns already when he reaches his own street. With Every step he took he could imagine his brother, arms crossed in the kitchen table, maybe drinking a coffee, maybe staring coldly at the door. waiting for him.

his voice, always weighed down with worry, would ask him where he went; and tomas, the weak man he is, would not be able to lie.

not to him.

he reaches the crossroad his house sat on, old and weathering with a certain charm that was lost in everyone but him.

the lights were all off still.

he jumps the first ,low, gate.going up the concrete stairs only to peek inside .he saw the kitchen empty. his legs give up in relief but his heart still pounds on his throat.

he went down the stairs again, letting his eyes linger on every leaf the tree besides it had to offer. in summer,it would blossom in beautiful pink but the wind didn't let him entertain that idea too much.

it didn't take him long to find the shovel. he gripped it in his hands like his life depended on it, but he didnt take off with it, not instantly as he’s sure roman would hope.

he could turn back. climb back up the stairs and go back to bed.

he could call the police too, but the thought of not seeing roman again didn't feel right.

only once did he consider himself behind bars too, it occurred to him in that moment that he cared very little where he got to spend the rest of his life, only his brother's imaginary disappointed-no- disgusted glare really moved him.

forcing himself to make a choice he again picks the worse one and takes off running again, now with the shovel clenched tightly to his chest

he gets to the crime scene and runs north from there, following the tracks of his own bike in what little dirt was left uncovered by vegetation.

roman;the man of the hour, sleep like a baby on a rock.he envied him really.

slowly he approached, stalking just above the grass like a predator about to pounce, he sees the man stir as he raises the shovel.

in an anger fuelled attempt at playfulness tomas hits roman in the stomach with non insignificant strength.

roman yells and jumps to his feet, fists clumsily balled up in mockery of what could be a fighting stance. his eyes focus soon enough tough and he lets his hands fall.

“thank god, you scared me” he lets the shovel be handed to him with no comment.tomas sits down on a different rock a few steps away, staring at the floor he snaps a branch off one of the nearby bushes.

"well!" roman dusts his pants off for show "I better get to work now!

blindly he hears him struggle and lift the dirt from off the ground, occasionally feeling specks of it fly into his face.

"y'know when you mentioned-" the shovel struck a rock, roman struggled to lift it up again "having a shovel I wasn't expecting it to be so-" he pops it out the ground "small"

he complains like always, not really waiting for a response. even now tomas appreciated it to some degree.

not enough to fully ignore everything sadly.

"should have told me it was more of a toy than anything-"

"there's blood in your hands now" tomas cuts his rambling off with a warning. a remainder he hopes will make it through that thick skull.

roman scoffs "no there isn't,I get any on me" he deflects, simple but effective it sent a very clear message.

‘i dont care’

silence,like always, is king between the both of them until tomas checks his watch.

"it's 4:36 already" he spoke up.

roman took the last bit of dirt off the hole. "I'm almost done" carelessly he began pushing the bag into the hole with his foot.

distantly the wind kept howling. tomas waited for it before he spoke again.

"my brother wakes up at 5:30"

javier still had work early in the morning on saturdays.

roman clicked his tongue "I don't care-"

"he'll notice if I'm gone,give me the shovel back"

tomas demanded,but roman didn't listen, instead hitting the bag with it, making it go down further into the dirt.

"give me 5 more minutes with it" he argues. Tomas doesn't even bother to look back to him, nodding a yes hes sure roman didnt turn around for.

quickly he covers the hole back up and, as soon as he dusts his hands and before he declares his work done, tom rips the shovel out of his hands. roman doesn't protest when their eyes lock.

he runs again for the fourth time that night, reluctantly waving on his way out, mostly out of habit.

hes only a couple of steps away from his house when the sky gives in.

making his way into the kitchen he can hear his brother still snoring loudly in his room.

He throws his clothes into the washer with the rest of the pile and starts the cycle, careful not to make too much noise, before going back to bed.

#wadds art #argieoc art #argieoc lore #tomas rossi oc #roman amado oc #THEYRE FRIENDS I SWEAR #this is just them at their worst

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