Chapter Text
Roier could be a lot of things, but mad wasn't one of them.
He was a very simple man, only desires to love and be loved, but how can something this easy be impossible for him? Why did every single man he gets interested in, ended up running away from him? It's not his fault he maybe expresses his love in a… very intense way.
"You didn't left me any choice, cariño" Natalan’s body was already getting cold on his arms, the thick blood dripping from his forehead was such a vivid red, Roier caught himself thinking of carrying flowers with this exact color to the altar "Perdóname…"
Tears oozed down his eyes, all the fury he was feeling dripping down his lachrymal channel like an open faucet. His makeup was smudged, his face was a grotesque mix of tears, makeup, and blood.
Maybe that's why no one really stays in his life, but it doesn't matter, he is satisfied. He can stay by himself and maybe become a crabby old man.
Hardly, hid the body in a vain right below his bed, and spent a few seconds staring directly at the deep strokes made around his chest. It was so romantic how he stabbed anywhere else but his heart, he just couldn't hurt the feelings of his love.
“𝘔𝘢𝘺𝘣𝘦 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘥𝘢𝘺, 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘥𝘰 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘦… 𝘐'𝘮 𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭 𝘴𝘰𝘰𝘯.” Thought, cheeks getting hotter with the reverie of reciprocation…
Who are we lying to? Roier couldn't stay by himself, he didn't want to age alone. But this is just another case where he puts too much hope and effort on something just to collect the shrapnels from his heart and hope things will get better tomorrow. He's tired from being abandoned.
Roier's tired of tomorrows, tired of cycles, tired of hoping the crescent void at his heart will be filled by an angel coming straight from the skies. And tired of the rhythmic sound of the clock in the silence. Time won't stop for him, even though that's all he wanted.
Recovering from his tremors and starting to slowly starting to function again, Roier felt the blood in his face, a disgusting texture that made his face sticky. The sun probably set by this time. Letting behind the secrets of whatever happened today.
The moon, by the other hand, it's a momentary luster to distract the affliction. It was like Roier, belongs to nobody but always the main theme of those love disappointments poems.
But the moon have a dark side and Roier also identify himself with this one, the one that can't reflect the sunlight, the one where the socially neglected ones hide since the beginning of time.
Roier couldn't tell if he was the bright or the dark side of the moon.
Shaking his head to drive away the thoughts, he felt anxious, and it's not that common feeling of waking up by night and noticing you lost the whole day. He just couldn't feel any better, he never do, and rarely even cares about it… It never pestered so much like this.
Deciding to just ignore the feeling until it goes away, Roier let the dagger fall into his feet, scrubbing both his hands over his face and grunting in disappointment when he saw them stained red.
When Roier got in the bathroom, avoiding staring at the stranger in the mirror. Seeing the tap running down made Roier laugh, blustering through his own sorrow. After all, he only asked for one thing in this relationship, and it was the only thing Natalan couldn't give to him.
Roier loved him more than anything else in the world, could rip off his own heart with a smile, Roier would let himself be eaten alive by that man. Religiously waited every night for him to come back the next morning.
But he wouldn't come back. The story is: Natalan was refraining Roier from him. He started traveling almost every weekend to somewhere he refused to tell where.
“It's a Business trip, Roier, don't be so lunatic, it's making me sick” he said, pushing Roier to move away. A Lunatic? Roier put all his devotion into this relationship, to be called a fucking lunatic by the man he most loved? Wasted his damn time waiting hour after hour, to receive affection, and silently accepting when he wasn't into to be called a LUNATIC?
He barely couldn't see with all this anger rushing violently through his veins, even his vision was red. It was brutal, but it was Natalan's fault putting himself at this position of a prey when he knew Roier could be the predator. That's how we got here.
Roier saw the red-painted water flowing down the drain until it was transparent again, ending the water flow and sighing heavily, supporting his body in his hands who lay at the cold stone. The anger finally letting him free from the torturing agony, freeing space for the melancholy.
What seconds ago was red, now it's rusty.
Rapidly, left the bathroom while his eyes felt watery again. He cries so much it's ridiculous. Too sensitive, too intense, too much. His head was a vortex, every thought racing across his mind at such speed he almost couldn't process it.
Roier was too much, Roier is too much for anyone to handle. An endless tornado in people's lives.
It felt like years, but in a matter of seconds he finally got to his bed, throwing himself without even caring if there's something in the way. Hiding his face at the linen, groping around until reaches a pillow, holding tightly against his body. If Roier tries hard, he can imagine it is his beloved one.
Then, lying in fetal position, squeezing a pillow to control his own feelings to run down his own face again; Roier felt numb, empty, but mostly, cold. And it's brooding his own actions, he fell asleep in a restless dream.