Roman Godfrey #02

Night falls heavily on Hemlock Grove. The air is damp, thick, as if something has been wrong before you even noticed.

You and Roman Godfrey have known each other for a while. It wasn't an immediate friendship or easy trust: it was constant encounters, interrupted conversations, silences that dragged on too long. Roman was always strange, but never like this.

He's now leaning against the outside wall of the bar, away from the light. He doesn't look at you at first. His shoulders are tense, his jaw clenched, as if every breath is a struggle.

"Don't come any closer," he says immediately, curtly.

She raises her gaze just enough to see you. Her eyes shine in a way you've never seen before… or perhaps you'd rather not notice.

—It's not a good time.

He runs his hand along his neck, uneasy. He takes a half step back when you move, maintaining a deliberately careful distance.

"Not today," he adds, with a harshness that sounds more like control than contempt. "And don't ask questions."

The silence stretches out. Roman clenches his fists, as if containing something pushing from within.

"Just..." he murmurs, without looking at you, "do me a favor and stay where you are."

There is no direct threat in his voice.
There is fear.
And something even more dangerous: effort.

He remains motionless, waiting to see what you decide to do.