#THIS HAS BEEN IN MY DRAFTS FOREVER HNDSF

[roman-apples]

northern downpour

prinxiety; 1,298 words. 

summary:

❝ tripping eyes and flooded lungs, northern downpour sends its love. ❞

in which during spring, roman returns home to virgil, a snarky nature witch with a lot to say.

this year, however, he's a few days late.

the path under his feet felt endless.

all the green leaves felt the same, along with the moss-covered trees, even the pink spring beauties. the pitter-patter of the rain around him had gone from calming white-noise to painful as the day carried on.

usually, roman was far too used to the rain, far too infatuated with its cold temperature and help to the environment to be mad at it. besides, without the environment, he wouldn't be able to go on adventures as such.

however, he was also far too infatuated with a certain someone, who he just so happened to be late in meeting due to the harsh rain. his annoyance was justified.

it was a week into spring, meaning his lover was most likely worried sick, which meant that as soon as he arrived, he'd be attacked with questions and passive-aggressive affection. roman smiles love-sickeningly at the thought.

before it's torn away from him when his hat droops from the effect of hauling the downpour.

the traveler lets out a sound of pure disgust as he takes it off to get rid of the water, only for his hair to get hit by the droplets instead. he decides then that as soon as he reaches the witch's cottage, he'd take a good nap. preferably in front of the fire place.

roman fixes the red hat back to its place on the top of his head, trying to ignore the feeling of coldness against his scalp. he pulls his coat around him securely before grabbing onto his backpack straps. his boots hit the ground, creating a loud 'thump!' as he stomped the rest of his way to his destination.

though he felt the need to give up, his heart reminded him of who he was headed to, and so he continued, even through the night. his romantic side that longed for him seemed to overcome any need for rest.

when morning come, he smiles with tired eyes when he approaches a cottage in the distance.

roman watched the birds fly about, happily tweeting away without worry. he walked calmly along the path before reaching the small bridge, stopping there to take his backpack off. he breathed in the scent of the area, which was much different than what he had just come out of. before, it was quite scruffy, like the same old greens of nature, while here it was quite flowery, with much more colourful aromas.

he opens the bag to take out a ukulele, it's black wood contrasted against the golden strings. those he met on his travels all stated it was far too much put into an instrument he kept in his bag all day, though, he'd huff and disagree. it still deserved to look pretty, bag or not.

roman places the bag back onto his back, and begins to fiddle with the strings. eventually, he remembers a song worthy of playing. he grins before humming along with it, continuing his journey.

soon enough, the flowers along the path changed from orchids to bellflowers, meaning he had finally arrived. his song still played, even as he stood in front of the home. the adventurer took in the familiar hut, with its large walls being encased by the vines that grew around it. the trees almost shielded the sun, leaving small rays of sunlight to swim in sweetly.

roman supposes it's been long enough since he's kept boyfriend waiting, and so, he opens the door.

only to be instantly thrown back out.

"you asshole!"

roman grins at up at virgil, both their hats thrown off from the fall. "hello to you too, my love!"

"shut it, princey," he replies, rolling his eyes as he pins roman to the ground. roman felt the bag on his back uncomfortably against himself, though he lets it go for the time being. "you left me worrying about you for a week. you've never been late before, so, fess up."

roman sighs, "I got a bit caught up in the rainstorms, ended up needing to stop at some villages for shelter. I deeply apologise for keeping you, stormcloud." he prays that that was all he had to say, and while virgil did seem a bit convinced, he still reaches up to place a kiss upon his lips.

he leans back down, seeing virgil's eyes soften. but apparently his body decides he should go into a coughing fit, so he does so into his elbow.

"shit, are you okay?" the witch asks, eyes widening as he gets off of the boy. "come inside."

a feeling of gratefulness washes over roman, and he smiles, allowing virgil to pull him up. he reaches for his hat, shoving it onto his head before grabbing virgil's own.

it was black and purple hat with a pointy top. the hat was made by roman himself, with purple mixed-matched patches he had spent an entire winter trying to find. he had felt most accomplished when the witch let out few tears, though, he promised he'd never tell anyone that part of the story.

roman backs up a bit, before bowing and holding the hat out to virgil. "for you, my dear." while it was sweet, it's short-lived, for the moment is ruined by a sneeze.

virgil only snorts, a blush coating his cheeks cutely. he takes the hat with a smirk, before replying, "thank you, my snot prince."

roman scoffs, no real annoyance behind it, however, as he says, "how rude! I'll just rest in the northern village if that's going to be your attitude."

"good," virgil replies sarcastically, taking his hand in his own and pulling him inside.

the cottage was just as he remembered, though of course, not too much. after all, it seemed to change whenever he'd arrive. the constants where always the bottles full of colourful liquids displayed in open cabinets, with a fire going under a large cauldron. along with a mess of opened jars all around the counters, all filled with various ingredients that ranged from grounded flowers and herbs to dried birds feet. classy.

"sit, i'll make you some tea." virgil says, walking to the cauldron. he begins throwing in some chamomile, along with some honey, stirring afterwards. setting his bag down, the traveler takes a seat on the couch. the warmth from the fireplace set to keep him warm.

roman stills at the feeling of eyes watching him, though he's sure nobody else lived in the cottage.

however, his memory supplied, somebody else did.

roman grins before grabbing his bag off of the floor in front of him, taking out a ball of dark blue yarn. he throws it down under the couch and waits.

it gets thrown back out with a brown cat following afterwards. the cat plays with it determinedly, passing it from paw to paw, as if it was the most interesting thing in the world. roman snorts when the yarn rolls out of it's hands, causing the cat, berry, to chase after it clumsily.

virgil comes back shortly after. before putting a blanket around his shoulders, he passes the cup to the traveler, sitting next to him with his own. the witch takes on an amused tone, saying, "tell me about your travels. you fight a dragon-witch again?"

roman perks up, "I did, actually! he was very rude. though, i met a few other, much nicer friends on my journey. his name was patton, i believe. he was kind enough to let me stay at his home during a blizzard. i brought you some bread, as well."

"oh?"

the night continues on, stories from both the traveler and the witch being shared next to the fire.

they end the night with a kiss, a sweet one, telling of how many more nights they had to share.

end.