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killherfreakout · 4 years ago

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half of who i am isn’t all my fault

a series about hands and where they touch.

part two: your hand under my chin

[a/n: bipolar disorder, mixed state of mania and depression.]

* * *

The world is ending.

At least, to a twenty-something artist in Paris named Eliott Demaury, it feels like it is. And he can’t decide if he wants to sit there and watch or throw caution to the wind and go down with it.

It’s another quiet weeknight in the city, late enough that the partygoers are on their way home but early enough that people aren’t up for work. So the world is continuing as normal, and yet, it feels like Eliott is on the edge of it and about to fall off.

And there’s no one to blame but himself; no one to blame but his chemically imbalanced and traitorous brain, on the brink of consuming every last semblance of control he has left, in the middle of a sleepless night. Eliott knows this feeling too well, and no matter who much he tries to fight it, his attempts are futile.

Eliott finds himself sitting on the edge of their bed, and he watches as Lucas’ parted lips huff out soft breaths in his sleep. He looks ethereal, like some kind of angel sent to watch over Eliott when he wants to give up on himself, always there when he doesn’t know he needs him. Lucas is some kind of perfect dream, in between real and imaginary, as he lays there like he has no idea the sight he makes.

Lucas said once, after Eliott made him try his special omelettes, I’m glad you have one flaw, otherwise you’re just too perfect to be real. And Eliott knows the way people look at him, like he’s an entity only good for his beauty — although, if he has anything to say about it, he would argue he’s the furthest from that — and not a person with real human emotion underneath it all. The thought makes a cruel, humorless laugh bubble up inside his throat.

And he doesn’t want to be the asshole who’s ungrateful for his conventionally attractive features, but every time it comes up, it just— it feels like it’s the universe’s twisted way of overcompensating for the ugliness that hides beneath the shiny surface. It makes this shame and guilt swirl inside of him, and there’s this voice mocking him, saying, if only they knew. If only they knew how flawed this body is, how close it is to breaking.

His boyfriend’s peaceful state somehow magnifies Eliott’s awakeness, and his body feels heavy but his mind and heart feel like they’re going fast enough to run a marathon. Like he has all this energy he needs to burn but he’s stuck inside the small apartment as the world ends inside it, and seems to keep going outside of it.

Inevitably he finds his cigarettes on the ledge of the living room window, and goes through one before he even realizes he’s smoking it; he goes to light another but gets annoyed at the busted lighter, deciding to raid the fridge for something to wash down the nicotine.

A gust of wind outside reminds him of the outside world, his body somehow not big enough for everything he feels inside, like he belongs out there. But he can feel himself coming down, feeling like he fits inside his body again the more he breathes, and he tries with all his might to stay afloat before he crashes.

Eliott lays on the cold floor of their bedroom, his head against the wall under the window and legs bent at the knee with his feet against the foot of the bed. It’s not quite comfortable but the position allows him to see some of the sky over the tops of the buildings outside, including a few stars that shine through the darkness.

He lays there for a while, just looking at the tiny shining stars and melting into the cold floor, trying to focus on the sound of Lucas’ tiny breaths from the bed.

There’s a star that peeks through a small cloud as it passes by, and Eliott can’t tell which one it is or which constellation it belongs to, but he knows that it’s one that moves around the North Star, like all the others do. Then a thought comes to him: he’s like one of those stars. He’s always changing and going in circles, sometimes hidden behind clouds in his mind, not visible to anyone. The thought could be dreamy and romantic, comparing himself to the stars, but with the current state he’s in it feels like a curse. Like the pole his life revolves around is his bipolar disorder, where he has no choice but to let it decide his course.

It makes him feel so small and so alone, always at war with his mind and with himself. The stars seem so far away, and he’s just left lying on the cold floor in his own apocalypse that no one can see.

His eyes wander across the ceiling, unfocused and frenzied as these thoughts keep swirling around his head, hands clenching at his sides.

There’s shuffling on the other side of the room where Lucas tosses in the bed, groaning before calling, “Baby?”

Eliott registers the sounds but can’t break his focus from the ceiling of his mind and the room.

“Eli, where are you?”

Lucas calls his name a few more times, the sound getting further and further away as the younger one searches the other rooms of the apartment. Eliott wants to scream for help, wants to tell Lucas, I’m here, I’m here, but he can’t.

Somehow, though, he seems to beckon him back.

There’s footsteps and then a source of light, and Lucas almost trips over Eliott’s legs where he still rests on the floor by their bed. Lucas sighs when he realizes he’s found him, sleepy features illuminated by the blue light of his phone. His eyes are squinty from the light and his hair is a perfect mess all over his head, a few strands falling down to his eyes. He still looks like an angel - and here he is, to save Eliott from himself like he knew he would.

“There you are,” Lucas kneels on the floor by Eliott’s side. Eliott finally focuses on his voice and his presence, his angel. “Come back to bed, baby.”

Eliott doesn’t move, can’t move. Lead has settled into his bones trapping him to the floor, and every nerve screams to get up, to go back to bed with Lucas, but there he lies, paralyzed.

“Oh, Eliott,” Lucas’ smile disappears, thumbing away the tears that Eliott didn’t even know were flowing. His voice is soft and loving just like he is. “What’s going on?”

His eyes close to the words, no doubt causing more wetness from his eyes. The thumb wipes it away again, so gently, it’s like magic.

Subconsciously Eliott registers Lucas’ concern and the way he asked, noticing how he asked what’s going on? instead of what’s wrong? — because something doesn’t necessarily have to be wrong to make Eliott feel like this, because what Eliott feels right now is something that happens sometimes. They’ve had plenty of experience with this exact moment, when Eliott is close to losing himself and Lucas makes sure to keep him from going too far.

“Lucas…” His voice is weak, his throat closing and breath stuck somewhere that can’t get out. Eliott can feel the touch again, this time firmer, more real. Lucas leans down to be closer to him, and keeps up that brushing on his face, but it’s overwhelming all of a sudden, and there’s no simple answer to his question and—

Eliott finds some strength, or just a fighting response, to turn over and away from the touch and warmth of Lucas. He misses it as soon as it’s gone but stays in his new position with his back turned to the other boy. Lucas doesn’t reach out again, just leaves him be. Eliott is glad his boyfriend is respecting his space but can’t help the guilt setting in that he pushed him away. Eliott lays there quietly, though his mind is anything but. He doesn’t know if Lucas is still there when he finally finds his voice again.

“I was doing so well, I thought I might have finally had some control over this. But it just came out of nowhere and—”

Sudden panic washes over him, because it never really comes out of nowhere, and if it does, there are signs he can recognize so he’s at least a bit prepared.

Eliott thinks of the fact that he hasn’t slept more than a few hours in the past three days, and how tired he doesn’t feel until right at this moment. But he was so focused on his art projects and so excited with how they were coming together, the time seemed to fly by. That happens sometimes, just getting swept up in inspiration and letting it take him away - without triggering an episode. Because he prides himself in his passion and creativity, and how he uses art to sort through his feelings and express his truest self. The thought of his recent works being the product of his mania rather than his own intention makes him so angry and upset that he was born with a brain that always ends up letting him down.

But now in hindsight he doesn’t know what to think, or what exactly triggered these feelings, or how he got here, or what will come next. Eliott had been diligent with taking his meds and going to his weekly sessions, but now that he thinks about it, he can’t remember if he took them yesterday and—

Eliott lays with his back on the floor again. “I should have seen this coming. I knew I was doing too well that something was going to happen, and it’s always the same shit.” He tilts his head back to look at the stars again, and imagines himself as one of them. “No matter how hard I try, it's like nothing I do is ever up to me. And I have to deal with myself for the rest of my life.”

It’s silent again and Eliott has a moment of terror that he’s completely alone, like he’s the last person on Earth and shouting into an endless, dark void.

“Hey,” the sound is like a beam of light breaking through the dark void, like another lost soul is greeting him, saying, I’m here, I’m here.

Lucas hasn’t left from his place next to him; he’s laying on his side facing Eliott on the hard floor. Eliott doesn’t look at him, though; he doesn’t want to see him look at how much of a mess he is. He knows Lucas doesn’t pity him, and he’s so glad for that, but the way Lucas has so much love and care in his eyes makes Eliott only feel more undeserving of it. So he stays on his back and glances from the ceiling to the endless sky.

“Hey,” Lucas says again, in a soft whisper, but firm this time. “Eli, can you look at me?”

Eliott doesn’t want to be like the stars and revolve around his bipolar. Maybe he can find a new way to navigate, by following a new star, a new pole that is a fixed point in his life. Like the one in front of him now, made of stardust and blue eyes and love.

He swallows thickly, his breath finding a way out as he catches sight of Lucas. Eliott was right, there’s so much love in his beautiful, still sleepy eyes. Even though Eliott is turned on his side to face him, he tucks his head down to his chest.

Lucas comes a little closer, and slowly reaches a hand out to Eliott as not to scare him. He runs his hand over the fabric of Eliott’s chest where his heart beats fast underneath, and gently uses it to lift his chin so that Lucas can see him.

Eliott lets him, lets Lucas position his face to open up to him, lets himself be seen. But he’s stubborn when he gets like this, so he still looks down and away from Lucas who still has Eliott’s chin in his hand.

“Breathe,” Lucas says calmly, looking into his eyes. Eliott keeps their gaze this time; Lucas’ is more direct and practical now, communicating more than his voice. Eliott lets out an excuse for a breath, more like a quiet sob, and then Lucas says again, “Breathe, in and out.”

Lucas watches as Eliott tries again, but it’s still impossible. He wants to look away again but the hand under his chin won’t let him, the fingers there softly tracing the frown on his face as if to smooth it away.

“Listen to mine and try to breathe with me.”

It’s then that Eliott decides that Lucas is his North Star, even if just for tonight. His mania and his depression and his anxiety and his sleepless nights will always be there, but right here and right now, he uses every last ounce of control he has to listen as Lucas’ chest rises and fills with air and slowly deflates.

Eliott tunes into the sound of every breath, and soon he somehow finds that he’s breathing in time with them.

“There you go, keep breathing,” Lucas reassures, his hand moving from Eliott’s chin to his shoulder and slowly down his arm to where his hands lay in front of him on the floor.

After some time, Eliott’s heart rate is slow again, and he’s exhausted. He’s about to fall, into real sleep for the first time in days, and Lucas is right there with him.

Lucas’ voice sounds like it’s on the other side of that void, far away but extremely close at the same time. “I’m sorry you feel like that, and I wish I could say the right thing to make you feel better, but all I can say is that you’re right, it sucks. I mean, I’ll never know exactly how you feel, but I’m acknowledging that it must feel awful. But I do know that you’re so much stronger than you think, and I know that you are so much more than your weakest moments, and that I’m right here with you through anything.”

Eliott’s eyes are heavy and his mind is starting to drift, but the words make him hold on just a little bit longer. He flutters his eyes open to see Lucas staring back at him, the smallest sleepy smile on his lips. Eliott does his best to return it, even if it’s a lazy slant of his mouth.

“I'm sure it must feel really lonely sometimes, but I’ll keep reminding you that you’re not alone.” Lucas’ hand is tickling down his forearm, and he intertwines their fingers to bring them to his lips, leaving feather-light kisses across his knuckles. “And I can’t wait to deal with you for the rest of my life.”

My angel. It’s the last thing Eliott thinks before he surrenders to sleep, his hand still in Lucas’ where they lay on the hardwood floor.

When Eliott wakes it’s to the sun shining at a low angle into the room, and he tosses in the bed to shy away from it, bumping into a hard body on his side. Lucas is sitting against the headboard smiling down at him, greeting him with a good afternoon, my love.

After a few long moments of waking up, still coming to and vaguely remembering his state the previous night, Eliott swallows though his throat is dry and regards his boyfriend looking all awake and beautiful.

“Did you carry me to bed?” Eliott asks half in awe and half in confusion. He’s done the same for Lucas countless times, but he doesn’t think his boyfriend ever has.

Lucas scoffs but he has the widest, most beautiful smile on his face. The kind that is contagious even when Eliott is not feeling up to smiling.

He gets him to drink some water and take his meds, and Eliott is too tired to fight it.

“Remember when I said you were stronger than you think? Well, so am I.” Lucas smirks with a quick raise of his brows, and Eliott goes to bury his face into Lucas’ neck and shoulder, his absolute favorite place in the universe.

“I love you,” is all Eliott has the energy to say, before he rolls over and goes to sleep a few hours more. Lucas laughs that soft and adorable laugh of his, and joins him under the covers. My love, my light, my angel, my star.

#skam france #elu fic #elu #skamfr fic #mywriting #hands and where they touch

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abusedsanderssides · 3 years ago

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I Will Always Protect You, Dark Angel

Trigger/content warnings: Many mentions to rape and noncon (not actual described), abusive/unsympathetic Patton, hurt/comfort, sympathetic Roman, slight self-harm thoughts, self-esteem issues, mean internal monologue.

Ship(s): Abusive Moxiety, platonic/romantic Prinxiety (you decide).

Characters: Virgil, Roman, Patton

2316 words

Prompt: Could you write roman comforting Virgil after Virgil was noncon'd by someone (idk if that makes sense, I love your writing)

Requested by Anonymous link

A/N: Anon, I didn't know if you wanted Virgil and the other character (in this case Patton) to already be in a relationship so I just made it that way, I hope that's what you wanted! If anyone wants me to write out the actual scene that happened before this took place I'm totally down to do it! I might do it anyway, but if you want to request something(s) that will happen in that one shot let me know! :)

- 8/11/21

Virgil stared at the ceiling, brain foggy and tears running down his face. His body was still, laying in the position it was left in, naked. The door to his room clicked as it was closed, causing Virgil to flinch. Every noise he heard was too much and too loud. He was alone in his room, happy that Patton left but devastated that he was left alone to deal with the issue himself.

Curling into a ball on his side he cried into his pillow, his sobs silent from practice. Virgil felt gross and icky. Like there was something on him but he couldn't get it off. His skin was crawling and he wanted to hurt himself. He deserved it. He was disgusted with himself. He was tainted. Ruined. And it was all his fault.

"God, you're so weak, you couldn't even stand up for yourself," The cruel voice in his head taunted, Virgil's shoulders hitching as his cries increased. "You let him use you like the toy you are. Hell, he might even do it again with how obedient you were."

'Shut up!' Virgil screamed internally at the voice in his head.

"Oh, wow. Such a great comeback. You liked it and you knew it. With all the moaning and shit. Do you want him to do it again? Just beg like you were when you wanted him to stop so bad, then maybe he'll listen. Instead this time he'll shut you up with his dick instead of a gag."

Virgil couldn't help but let out a sob into his pillow, curling his arms around himself tighter. Did he actually like it? Is he just faking this? Why would he moan if he wasn't enjoying it? 'I didn't want it,' he reminded himself but still not quite believing it.

'I wish I had a stuffed animal or something to hold. I wish someone would hold me. I wish Patton would hold me.' Virgil just cried louder at the loss of trust he had in Patton.'Why did he have to do that to me?! Why did that have to happen?! Why didn't he stop?! What did I do wrong?! WHY DIDN'T I WANT IT?!'

He hugged his pillow tighter, curling his body around it and burying his face. That only reminded him of how naked he was, too disgusted to even look at himself. Virgil's body was too weak to move.

"Go bother someone else, maybe they'll fuck you too."

'Maybe I will.'

"NO! Don't do that! You'll only seem needy and helpless."

'No, I won't. He cares about me and will understand when I explain what happened.'

"But what if he doesn't?!"

Virgil's brain continued to argue with itself, losing himself to the thoughts. His crying died down, eyebrows furrowed in thought.

He gave himself a few minutes to compose himself before getting up off his bed. Virgil was careful, still sore and weak.

Picking up his clothes on the floor on the way over he limped to his bathroom, only taking ten minutes to do so. He closed the bathroom door shut, triple checking that it was locked and that he was truly alone.

Virgil couldn't avoid the large mirror that hung on the wall above his vanity. Tears welled up in his eyes as he stared at the disgustingly naked body that was his own, his eyes refusing to look away.

Only after his vision became blurry with tears could he tear his eyes away, breaking down once more.

Turning his body he carefully sunk to the floor, propping his elbows on his knees and letting his head fall into his hands.

Virgil felt another anxiety attack building up and let it consume him. His breathing became erratic and his body shook, unable to control the sobs that tore from his lungs.

Once Virgil's shaking and crying slowed to a stop he began to breathe. He ignored the argument occurring in his head, running his hands through his hair and wining his snotty nose on a towel lying on the floor.

Carefully, Virgil pulled himself from the floor and stumbled to his clothes. Virgil cautiously stepped into his boxers, sitting down on the closed toilet seat afterward for support. He then pulled on sweatpants and a long sleeve shirt, covering his body.

He ignored the mirror on his way out, not caring about how red his eyes were or the smudged eyeshadow streaming down his cheeks.

Virgil trudged to his door and turned the handle as quietly as he could. He closed the door behind him and padded down the carpeted hall to Roman's room, standing in front of his door.

Anxiety started to build up in his chest again, panic shooting through his brain as he had second thoughts about his plan.

"What if he doesn't care? What if he laughs? What if he tells you to go away? What if he tells everyone? What if he just wants to do the same thing to you?!"

Virgil shook his head, a few stray tears going with it. He ran a hand through his hair again, going through a breathing exercise.

'In for four, hold for seven, out for eight. Repeat.' After Virgil had repeated that process a few times he took a deep breath in, let it out, and opened his eyes again.

He brought a hand up to the door and knocked twice as quietly as he could without waking the others up but still announcing his presence to Roman. His heart pounded in his chest as he anxiously waited for any response from Roman.

"Virgil?"

Virgil's eyes shot up to meet Roman's, tears spilling out.

"Shh, come here," Roman went to wrap an arm around Virgil but abruptly stopped when he flinched backward. "What happened?"

Virgil's only response was to fling himself at Roman, hugging the stronger man like it was his last time ever seeing him.

"It might be after he finds out."

'Shut. Up.'

Roman immediately hugged the anxious boy back, pulling him into the room and closing the door. "Would you like to sit on my bed? We can cuddle if you want."

Virgil nodded his head, not trusting himself to be able to talk with all of his crying. Roman then guided both of them towards his bed, helping Virgil sit.

Once Roman sat down, Virgil flung himself at him, crying harder into his shoulder.

"Whatever dare hurt you my dark shadowling, will get the wonderful gift of my sword run through them by yours truly!" Roman exclaimed dramatically.

Virgil chuckled, a small smile forming on his face from Roman's drama. Roman's eyes lit up a little at that, glad he could help Virgil even if he only smiled a little.

"Now tell me, dear," Roman lent forward, hugging Virgil tighter, "who made my chemically imbalanced romance cry and will soon be faced with my sword?"

Virgil pulled back so Roman could see his face. Thoughts ran through his head.

Should I tell him? If I do, what do I even say? What will he think? What will happen? What if Roman tells Patton? How will he react if he finds out?

With Virgil's mind still racing he opened his mouth slightly but closed it soon after, his brows furrowing. He opened it slightly again, trying to force words out of his throat, but they got caught once more.

His brain felt like a hamster running in a ball, never-ending. His head was too loud, he couldn't focus on one thought without being interrupted by another.

Roman seemed to notice this, slowly and carefully placing a delicate hand on Virgil's shoulder. Virgil flinched, but being startled seemed to drag him out of the mosh pit that was his mind.

"It's okay," Roman softly spoke, "You can tell me whatever is on your mind. It is my duty as Prince Roman to help you in any way possible. I will not judge, as a noble prince does not."

Virgil seemed to think while Roman paused, repeating Roman's words over and over again in his head. Everything was cloudy and after a few minutes, he finally seemed to process the words.

Roman waited, only continuing once Virgil looked back into his eyes, silently telling him to keep talking. "Of course, you do not have to tell me anything if you do not please to do so; I am not pressuring you into anything. I simply want to help my dark prince because I mourn every time I see a tear roll down your beautiful face."

If Roman's lights weren't dim, Virgil was sure he could see the blush spread across his cheeks, his face bright pink and hot. The way Roman spoke to him made him feel safe and secure, just like when Roman would hold him.

Virgil looked back into Roman's eyes, silently asking to be held, comforted, touched, or anything. His crying had calmed down, only a few lonely tears resting on his cheeks that would dry soon.

With Roman knowing Virgil for so long and becoming so close to him, he could read Virgil like a book. He slowly brought his arms up, letting Virgil take the lead. Virgil saw what Roman was doing and wrapped his arms around the middle of his torso, Roman embracing him in a hug.

"Patt," was all Virgil said, barely above a whisper and muffled by the fabric of Roman's red shirt. Roman took a moment to understand, confused about what Virgil said.

Roman rested his cheek in Virgil's soft brown hair and asked, "Patton? What about him?"

Virgil was silent for a few minutes. What do I say? How do I tell him?

A few more minutes passed before Virgil mustered up the courage to talk. "He... did something."

Roman was silent, giving Virgil the time he needed. Lifting his head a little, he started to play with Virgil's hair and scratched his skull the way he loved.

"To me."

Silence.

There was tension in the air. Roman froze his actions. Virgil's heart pounded harder than it had been, and he was sure it was going to beat out of his chest.

Roman couldn't believe what he'd heard. "Virgil... what do you mean he did something to you?"

Virgil could barely hear the words Roman was saying over the blood rushing in his ears and his own quickened breath. He could feel himself start to hyperventilate, eyes becoming blurry with tears.

With two of his senses gone he started to panic more. Suddenly, he felt hands on him and flinched his whole body away, his mind traveling back to only an hour before.

Roman immediately removed his hands, becoming more and more suspicious of Virgil's reactions. He had his own guesses, but threw them out the window in his mind, hoping that they weren't true.

Virgil's own mind was racing and screaming and shouting and NOT SHUTTING UP. He tried to bring his hands up to his head to knock the voices away, but it just brought back another flashback. His sobbing increased, hands desperately and blindly grabbing for something.

His hands landed on Roman's shirt, fingers curling into fists in the fabric. It was grounding and once Roman realized he started to slow his own breathing, making it as obnoxious as possible. Virgil could hear it and vacantly remembered what it meant, not quite grasping the meaning but following along with his instincts. Virgil started to slow his own breathing to match the other that he could hear.

After a few minutes, Virgil mastered the practice and was breathing at the same pace Roman was. Virgil's brain had cleared and he had been able to see the strong man in front of him, so he leaned forward and nuzzled his face into Roman's chest.

"May I hold you?" It was barely above a whisper, Roman not wanting to startle the weakened man. After a nod he wrapped his warm arms around the other, embracing him in a hug.

Time passed, which Roman was much too busy comforting Virgil to keep track of, before either one spoke a word.

"I will always protect you, my dark angel." Virgil sniffled, raising his head to meet Roman's gaze. His eyes were red and puffy, cheeks shiny in the dim lighting, hair messy. Roman thought he looked beautiful.

And then Virgil smiled, his gorgeous smile, and Roman thought the sight was even more beautiful. "You're a dork." Virgil rasped out, edgy as ever.

Roman chuckled, smiling down at Virgil, causing Virgil to duck his head because he too was smiling. "You always seem to lighten the mood no matter the situation, my dear."

Virgil lifted his head again, mouth slightly agape and eyebrows furrowed. "Th-thats... I wasn't trying to-" Virgil muttered, the rest of his sentence unheard due to him ducking his head once more.

Roman held in another chuckle, only squeezing Virgil tighter and placing a light kiss on the top of his hair.

They stayed like that for god knows how long, bathing in each other's presence. Roman would stay there forever if requested to, happiest when comforting and spending time with Virgil.

"I'm tired," Virgil mumbled, only stating his point more when he yawned not only seconds later. Virgil's eyes were heavy, brain foggy, body tired and sore, but content in Roman's hold.

"Alright, shadowling, let's get to bed. Would you like to sleep in here?" Virgil sleepily nodded his head, pressing into Roman's chest more, not wanting to move anytime soon.

Roman smiled as he lifted the emo into his arms and tucked him into bed, climbing in after him. Virgil was attached to him in seconds, like they were both magnets, and was asleep minutes later.

Roman decided that he would find out more when Virgil was ready, but until then he would support Virgil and protect him even if his own life depended on it.

Hey, look who isn't dead! Schools starting soon so updates are gonna be very slow.

#abused virgil #abusive patton #unsympathetic patton #sympathetic roman #tw rape #tw noncon #abused sanders sides #request #abusive moxiety #tw abusive content #tw abuse #abused ss writing

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stormcrawler75 · 4 years ago

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if it hasn't been done yet (re the bad things happenbingo) could I ask for either amputation or damaged wing(s) with Remus please? I love what you've done with the prompts so far

Warnings: Amputation, hospitals, diseases, talk of surgery.

Characters: Remus, Patton, mentions of Roman, Logan, Virgil, and Janus.

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Hospitals smelt like absolute, sterilized shit.

Remus couldn’t fucking stand hospitals. Just the smell alone made Remus want to stay far away from hospitals for his entire life. Like, Remus got it. The people who worked there saved lives and the world would probably die without them. But Remus really hated hospitals. Maybe the problem was that they didn’t get enough money? Or that usually only shitty things happened at hospitals? Or maybe because of how many times Remus had been in one recently and he had only gotten shitty fucking news?

Whatever. No matter the reason, hospitals were still at the top of Remus’ shit list at the moment.

Plus, the gowns were itchy. Though, that might just be Remus’ opinion. He currently had one tied around in and was lying in a bed, waiting impatiently for the stupid kiddie clock - which was actually pretty cool because it was shaped like an octopus - hung on the opposite wall to hit three o’clock. Remus was so ready for this to be over with so he could go back home. Roman had promised to make whatever he wanted for dinner when Remus came back and Remus was so craving pancakes with cheese sauce.

Remus sighed and glanced over at his Dad, who was sitting next to him and reading a battered old Highlights magazine. “How much longer,” he whined, giving Patton his best pout. “We’ve been waiting here forever!”

“We’ve been waiting here for two hours, Sweetie,” Patton said gently, putting the magazine down on his knee. He glanced at the clock hanging opposite from them. “Well, it looks like you only got about twenty more minutes to go, Hon. Are you nervous?”

The question had been asked so many times by so many people lately that Remus could barely manage a scoff. “Me? Nervous? Nah, not at all! Hey, it’ll be pretty cool, if you think about it!” He forced a gasp and grabbed Patton’s wrist. “Do you think they’ll film it? Could I watch it later!?”

Patton laughed and shook his head fondly. “I don’t think so, Kiddo. But I’ll ask your doctor, okay? But if we do get it then no showing your siblings, okay? Especially don’t let Virgil catch you watching it, he would have nightmares for weeks. He’s already so worried about today.”

Remus’ jaw clenched at the memory of his two-year-old brother sobbing just a few hours ago and trying to cling to Remus’ hand. Virgil hated hospitals just as much as Remus and, unlike Remus, he didn’t have the maturity and wisdom that Remus had to understand why he hated them or remember just how long he had spent there as a baby. “He doesn’t have any reason to worry,” Remus spat, hating the pit of fear that was growing in his gut. “The doctors said that this is the best option for me and even if I’ll have to do therapy and stuff, I should be just fine.”

“Oh, Honey, he’s only a toddler, he doesn’t understand what’s happening,” Patton said gently, taking Remus’ hand and squeezing it. “All he understands is that his big brother is in pain and is going away to a scary place and is going to come back without one of his legs. He’s much too young to know what osteomyelitis is.”

“I’m fourteen and I don’t even fully understand what this stupid disease is,” Remus muttered, crossing his arms. So many people had tried explaining it to him and all Remus fully understood was that some stupid fungi had injected his right leg bone and they had caught it so late that amputation was the only option. “But I know that he shouldn’t be worried. It’ll be fine and he didn’t need to be crying so much. Logan and Roman weren’t crying.”

And, no, Remus wasn’t disappointed that Logan and Roman - old enough to understand what was happening - didn’t cry like Virgil had or looked worried. Not that there was any reason to be worried but it would’ve been nice for them to pretend to be worried!

Patton squeezed his hand again, looking down at him sympathetically. “Trust me, kiddo, they were crying plenty last night. Logan’s been looking up the operation ever since he learnt what you have and Roman is so scared about his twin. They were trying to be strong for you, that’s-”

“But there’s no reason to be worried,” Remus cried, throwing out his arms in frustration. “There isn’t, I’m going to be fine and there’s no reason for anyone to worry!” His eyes were filling with sudden tears and his jaw trembled with the force of keeping them back. “I-I’m gonna come home and annoy everyone a-and t-they don’t need to worry ‘bout me cause I am gonna be f-fine!” He sobbed and pressed the palms of his hands into his eyes, images of all the things that could go wrong flashing through his mind.

Arms wrapped around his shoulders and pulled him forward until he was leaning against his dad’s chest. “Shhh, shhhh, you’re okay, you’re going to be okay,” Patton cooed, rubbing a hand up and down Remus’ back. “You’re gonna be fine, kiddo.”

“They’re gonna take my leg,” Remus sobbed, gripping Patton’s shirt so tightly that his knuckles were turning white. “D-don’t let them take my leg, don’t let them, Papa!”

“Oh, Kiddo,” Patton sighed, resting his cheek on the top of Remus’ head and holding him close. “Sweetheart, I wish I could stop them from taking your leg. If I could, I’d take this infection and put it in my own leg so you wouldn’t have to lose yours. But I can’t, Sweetie, and I’m so sorry. And I know this is very scary but I’ll be right outside the room the entire time. And I’m going to buy you the best prosthetic that money can buy, I promise.”

Remus sniffled and he rubbed at his eyes, looking up at Patton sadly. “O-one with some design?”

Patton gave him a wobbly smile and nodded, kissing Remus’ forehead. “I’ll buy you two. A plain one and one with any design that you want on it. We’ll do it together, okay baby?”

“Okay,” Remus sniffled, leaning back against Patton and closing his eyes. “...How long now?”

“...Two minutes.”

Remus’ breath hitched and he fought back the urge to vomit. It’d be hilarious but then they’d have to wait even longer for this surgery to take place. “I’m scared,” he admitted softly. “I’m so scared, Papa.”

“I’ll be right outside the surgery room and I’ll be right there when you wake up,” Patton promised softly, sounding like he was holding back tears. It made Remus want to dig a hole in the ground and cry. He was making his Papa cry. “And as soon as the Doctors say you’re ready, we’ll go home and see your brothers and Uncle Janus, okay?”

Remus sniffled and nodded, wiping away the tears trailing down his cheeks.”Okay,” he whispered. He let out a shaky breath and forced a smile. “It’ll be okay.”

“Remus?” The two of them turned to see a Doctor and a Nurse waiting for them. “We’re ready for you.”

Remus glanced at Patton nervously and got a confident smile in return. “You’ll be okay,” Patton said, looking so sure that he might as well had been saying that the sky was blue. “I’ll be right next to you when you wake up, okay?”

“Okay,” Remus said softly, turning to the Doctor and Nurse. “I’m ready.”

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#Storm writes #tw Amputation #tw hospitals #tw diseases #tw talk of surgery #Remus Sanders #Patton Sanders #Roman Sanders #Logan Sanders #Virgil Sanders #Janus Sanders #Bad Things Happen Bingo #Anonymous

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xlehukax · 4 years ago

Text

Still Beating Heart

Foreword: Hello! I’ve been working on this thing for a little while now, and it’s finally done! This fanfiction is set in the Pediatric Doctors AU that I made, that you can learn more about here. It’s done in conjunction to writings by @eeveeeclair246, to who has the first installment of this series, titled Inefficent Iron, which you can find here. And, if you don’t want to read on Tumblr, I get it! This will also be on Archives in a hot minute, so check my Masterpost for the link. Now, on with the show!

Ships: Roman x Virgil, Implied Remus x Logan

Word Count: 10215

Warnings: LANGUAGE, Alcoholism, Bars, Panic Attacks, Medical Issues (ie. weak hearts), Cheating, Implied Sexual Content, Implied Rape, that creeping feeling of regret.

Summary: Virgil’s always been the quiet nurse, the prickly one, the don’t talk to me unless there’s an issue one. Roman’s fresh out of a relationship, and looking to go out on the town, and needs a friend to go along with. And Virgil can’t say no to his crush, even if they work in the same place.

~~~~

It’s just another day at the office: by that, Virgil means, Patton’s handing out cookies, Logan’s being a work-aholic and refuses to let any of the patients go to Janus, in which is being very meticulous and annoyingly good at his job and refusing to let Virgil do his, Remus is going through the latest urine samples, and Roman is doing what Roman does best. Ranting about his latest breakup while painting his nails in the receptionist booth.

And Virgil just happens to be the only one around, after Patton leads the last patient of the day to Logan and the waiting room finally empties. Virgil simply sighs in defeat, and tries to shrink into his nurse uniform. Let it be known, he did not choose to be there. Or ever.

“Emo, are you even listening?”

“Yup, yes, I am, absolutely,”

“Alright, just had to make sure, you know, you tend to ignore me, which you’d think is impossible but you never cease to surprise me in that regard. Anyway, so this guy, Ethan- total dreamboat, eyes bluer than you’d ever believe. So I met him on this app, and we went for drinks a few weeks ago: and thirty minutes in, I’m in love. He’s a painter. Sweetest guy- we end up at his apartment, and you know- but I was in it for the long haul. Virgil, I was really ready for a long-term with this guy. He seemed like he was down for it too… and then, just yesterday, you know what I found in his apartment?”

“Another person,” Virgil sighs.

“Some floozy, blond and covered in hickeys, and Ethan painting her. Like, I didn’t know what to be more offended about: the fact that he cheated on me or that he doesn’t have a sexy painting of me!”

“Mhmm…” Virgil’s almost fallen asleep, and doesn’t even notice Roman hovering utop him until he’s right in his face.

“Virgil-” Roman shouts, and Virgil startles right into Roman’s arms. Which he now is realizing quite quickly are not just incredibly strong because they hold his weight easily, but landing their faces inches apart. Virgil sucks in a gasp- Roman smirks. “Hey there… you know, you’re not too bad looking yourself. Under all that makeup, you’re quite the princess, aren’t you?” It takes Virgil a moment to craft a response, he’s so scatterbrained and blushing.

“Fuck off Princey, I’m not your latest conquest,” Virgil hisses, still a large flush on his features. Roman flicks his nose.

“Yeah, but you’re still cute. Maybe I should date you~”

“In your fucking dreams- you cycle through boyfriends so fast, I’ll be dust in the wind,”

“Hmm,” Roman still hasn’t let Virgil go, and it is not helping the warmth in his face whatsoever, “Can’t argue with that.” And then Virgil is unceremoniously dumped onto the chair he was sitting in, with Roman towering above him. Did he always have those pretty eyes? He’s got these fantastically plump lips, it really shows when he’s smirking like that. And that hair is quite… quite royal- now that he’s looking at it-

Bloody hell, stop, now’s not the time to fawn, Virgil curses at himself. Virgil has always been introverted, and this- this interaction, Roman’s boldness with him… it’s completely unfamiliar. A bold move, reaching into his space, completely ignoring all of the protective glares and hisses that Virgil had in place. Disregarded his shields completely. Virgil has been harboring a bit of an infatuation with this confident musical wonder as of late, and this is not helping matters. Roman chuckles, running a hand through his hair.

“Well, J.Delightful, now I simply must make use of this situation,”

“What are you getting at-” Virgil snarls, to which Roman simply grins widely.

“You’re going to be my new wingman. There’s a open mic at a gay bar I frequent, and if I’m going to find somebody, then I need someone else to be my safety buddy. You know, watch for creepy old men who hit on me and all that jazz,” Roman pushes, eyes alight with excitement, “Patton won’t go with me anymore because he doesn’t like the loud noises, Logan doesn’t drink, I’m not asking Janus to come he’ll scare them all away or steal the attention, and Remus- well, you can probably guess why not Remus, and it’s not because people approach us because we’re twins. I can’t believe I’ve never asked you to come with me! It’ll give us some good outside of work bonding time too. Isn’t it great?”

“I don’t want to,” Virgil grumbles. Roman tuts.

“Oh come on now- am I so hard to be around?” No, Virgil thinks, and that’s the problem. “Pfft, if it’s really so hard, I’ll just cave and bring around someone else.”

“No…” Virgil whispers, so quiet that he’s sure it’s nearly silent, and Roman’s eyebrow perks up.

“Hmm? Was that a no I just heard?”

“I just- I’m not good in social situations, do you even really want me there? I’ll probably just screw your chances, scare people off,”

“Perfect! I’ll need someone to scare someone off,”

“But- I’ll damper on your fun,”

“Never! You will never cease to be fun to poke fun at,”

“I don’t know, Princey. You really want me there?” Virgil says, looking away and speaking in hushed tones still. Roman grabs his pale hands, squeezing them tightly.

“I need you, Virge,” Roman purrs. Virgil blushes harder, somehow, and tucks his head into his shoulder and murmurs his agreement. Damn it. “Wonderful! I’ll pick you up at 9, how does that sound?”

“Wait, tonight?” Virgil squawks. Roman drops his hands, blessedly, and steps back from him shrewdly. Smart, as Virgil’s immediate response is to throw a punch. Roman easily sidesteps.

“Oh, yes- did I not mention that? Tonight. It’s Friday,” Roman nods, smiling wickedly. Oh my god, I need to bathe, I need to find something nice-ish to wear, unearth my good eyeshadow, fuck it all I need new skin-

“Hey, hey, don’t freak. You don’t have to get all fancy for me: wear what makes you comfortable, and I’ll stop by your apartment at 9,”

“Wait a second- how do you know where I live?” Virgil says, suddenly horrified. Roman snickers.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“Uh, yes I would,” Virgil growls.

“Pfft, I need to know everyone’s addresses, I’m the receptionist, Virge. It’s my job,” Roman scoffs. Virgil blushes: well, now he feels foolish. But it reminds him: Roman and himself work together. It doesn’t matter if something comes out of this, as it is- Remus and Logan are constantly being sickeningly cute around the office. The real problem is if he screws this up, and still has to go to work with him the next day. This is a really bad idea. But… When will he have another golden opportunity like this one?

“Okay, okay- 9, right?”

“Yes! Thank you, My Chemically Imbalanced Romance- you’re going to have so much fun. I’ll sing a song just for you, as thanks,” Roman grins cheekily, Virgil blows the hair out of his eyes, attempting nonchalant despite the whirlwind of anxiety confined within.

“Alright, fine, whatever. Should I- should I dress a certain way? Wait, is there a dress code? How much money should I bring? Is it credit or cash? Do they have food there? Will I have to dance?” Virgil shudders at the thought of dancing, even with Roman, who is currently blinking rapidly under the onslaught of questions.

“Okay erm, just dress how you normally do? Scratch that, a peg hotter than a hoodie, thank you. No dress code, have you ever been to a bar? Just bring your wallet, think about how many drinks you want, and I’m dancing whether you’re going to or not, so-”

Virgil takes notes internally, already too worried about this whole ordeal. He should really just cancel, say he just remembered something, but he knows he’ll regret that later. Either way, the only other thing he’s doing tonight is hanging with his spider, Missy, and watching Unsolved Mysteries. So…

“I’ll- I’ll see you later then, Princey,” Virgil murmurs, before gathering the few things he has around him and breezing past whilst trying to make it appear like he’s not running away.

“See you!! At least pretend to be excited- It’s going to be one hell of a night, Virge- you won’t regret this!”

As Virgil silently clocks out (Patton will take over the end of the day nurse activities, it’s fine) he thinks to himself, I certainly hope not.

~~~~~

And then, it’s already 8:50, too soon. Virgil showered, twice, because the first time he used his usual unscented body wash for work and not the one that smells like lavender and violets and by jove Roman inviting him out after work deserves more than unscented. Then the clothes resulted in a mini fashion show in front of the mirror for an hour, where upon he finally settled on a black button down over a grey undershirt with some black ripped jeans (it took him another 25 minutes to decide on mostly untucked in a ‘I just threw this on’ careless feel), and his favorite purple and black hoodie just in case it got cold… of which he ended up shivering right away anyhow and put it on anyway.

And then a whole other hour on makeup: a very tasteful black eyeliner and purple and black smokey eye with just a hint of dark glitter. Some lipstick, and a little dust on his cheekbones, and Virgil finally felt confident, an emotion that lasted all of ten minutes when he realized that he hadn’t chosen a pair of shoes yet.

The shoes took another thirty minutes alone. And then the idea of changing his hair up a little occurred to him, and that was another hour wasted that ended with keeping his regular low-hanging hair anyway.

And now he’s trying not to look like he’s waiting, because he doesn’t want to be waiting on Roman, but he needs to see if his car comes up, but he doesn’t want to be desperate, so he’s panicking slightly in his apartment with all the lights off because he was going to leave and now he’s freaking out instead, because he doesn’t know if it’s more appropriate to wait for Roman to text him that he’s outside and head downstairs after that or to just head downstairs now like a normal person or maybe he just shouldn’t go. His head slowly stops pounding, and his breath evens out, the oncoming anxiety attack fading away with the thought. Yeah, maybe Virgil can stay home instead- there’s too many variables anyway.

When Virgil was young, he was always making decisions like this. He was sick, not like crazy-sick, but sick. Anemia, coupled with coronary heart disease, topped off with bronchitis. He had weak lungs, weak heart, weak blood- his whole body was frail, and sometimes his blood didn’t move around fast enough to make him work right. There was no running around, no nothing: he was constantly worried about every little thing, because his parents were. Did you take your pills today? How was your bloodwork? Are you feeling woozy? Until Virgil just stopped leaving the house whatsoever. It was just easier. There was no chance of passing out while crossing a street and getting run over, never going to embarrass himself at school by having a heart attack…

And wouldn’t you know, staying at home made him only sicker. No muscle mass whatsoever, pale as a ghost, always so cold, so frail from not getting enough nutrients. His parents made the best decision of their lives and set him down the path that led him here by… by hiring a nurse. A kind nurse, with funny jokes and encouragement, who helped him go outside for the first time in months. Who taught him little things to make him stronger, like light weights. Virgil grew out of his heart disease, and though he still had bronchitis and anemia, he regularly took medications which made them easy to handle. And just like that, Virgil was no longer sickly (at least externally, he still had anxiety, but he’s managing it). Then he was a normal teenager, who wanted to be strong enough to help someone in the same way that nurse had.

Here Virgil is now- and he’s not going to fall into that same loop he was in as a kid. He’s better now, medicating only when needed. Virgil is all lean-muscle, and he’s better than his anxiety. He can totally go on a date-not-a-date with his crush to a gay karaoke bar. Totally. Taking a deep breath, Virgil checks his phone (which is fully charged with two mini backup batteries on his keys tucked into his back pocket) and realizes with horror that Roman texted a whole six minutes ago while Virgil was panicking that he was waiting downstairs.

“Shit!” Virgil slams his door, and just runs down the stairs instead of taking the elevator (he only lives on the fourth floor anyway, because anything higher than like 10 fire ladders can’t get to and there’s a 50% possibility of surviving a fall from four stories), and hopes his meticulous makeup job isn’t ruined. By Roman’s expression, he doesn’t think it did-

He had been grinning teasingly, mouth open to say some quip, but his jaw goes slack when he sees Virgil. Roman’s eyes are wide, leaning up against his red car, as he watches Virgil stop by the curb only a few feet in front of him. Roman whistles.

“Damn, Virgil… you look- damn. Wowza, do you clean up nice,” Roman falls over his words, making Virgil flush. Roman thinks I look good- I did good, it’s all good.

“You don’t look too bad yourself, Princey,” Virgil whispers. Because really, he doesn’t: Roman’s white dress shirt has the top two buttons undone, showing off his pectorals and just a hint of his abs, and some nice pants. His hair is done over to the side, and one crown earring hangs from an ear. It’s really a delightful look, but makes Virgil feel out of place with his dark clothes and his heavy makeup. Roman only has a light bit. “Did I go overboard? I can- I can wash it off,” Virgil asks, hating that he’s offering to change this intensive and difficult look for a stupid guy.

“No, no- you look gorgeous. Seriously Virge, you should do my makeup. Like, I feel outdone, and I never feel that way! Come on, get on in, let’s go,” Roman shoos Virgil into the car, where he feels just as much if not more awkward. Still, he’s excited, out of this world excited: Roman likes how he looks. Roman finds him attractive, and they’re going to the club, together.

Not together, Virgil- you’re just his buddy. Virgil has to remind him that this is not a date, that he’s gotten all worried and dressed up for sitting at a bar and watching Roman flirt with other men. It makes his heart ache, but at least they’re together now .

“We’re almost there, Emo. You ready to have a good time?”

“I uh- erm, I mean. Yeah. Yeah sure, I’ll have fun sitting in the corner doing fucking nothing, that’s what I’m ready for,” Virgil’s suddenly defensive and feels horrible about the crude outburst.

“Oh my- Virge, do you not want to go? I don’t want to force you into anything!” No, I do, I do!

“Eh, it’s whatever. I got all dressed up, be a shame to not go out. I just- I don’t like to- I’m-”

“I know you don’t like being left alone! Don’t worry, I’ll be close by the whole time. I’ll watch you if you watch me, yeah?”

“Why are you so worried about being watched? You’ve clearly been to a lot of these things…” Virgil changes the subject to hide his flush at Roman’s empathy for him.

“Ah, well- I have been to a lot of these things, and I’ve had some… unfavorable experiences. A few times now, guys have put stuff in my drinks, or waited for me to get drunk and then take me home. It’s… it’s not what I want. I go to meet new people, not to get a one-night stand that I didn’t want. They don’t make me feel good. I hate it,” Roman growls at the road, and Virgil makes what might be a rash decision and places his long pale hands on Roman’s tanned worn ones by the gearshift. Roman looks over at him, and Virgil ducks his head. Roman smiles.

“I’ll watch out for you, I promise. I don’t really drink either, ‘cuz of my blood issues, so I can drive home too,” Virgil murmurs, still looking away. Roman moves his hand around, grips his tightly. Virgil doesn’t look at it, but knows they’re intertwined, and it makes his head hurt.

“Thank you, Virge. Aaand, we’re here,” the bar is bright in the dark evening, a neon sign advertising it, and Roman pulls into a parking space behind the building. He takes his key, and reaches out to put it in Virgil's pocket. “Don’t trust myself to hand em over, this thing’s my baby. I’m trusting you, though, and you gotta be good about that, alright?”

Virgil nods, and allows Roman to exit the car and help him out the other side. Roman throws his arm over Virgil’s shoulders, and saunters into the bar. As expected, it is loud. Someone’s already singing, a song by Chicago, and is doing pretty okay. There are bright lights here and there, some spots illuminated completely and others in darkness. There’s a whole load of people here too: some make eyes at him as he walks in. Virgil sticks to Roman, who chuckles, as they both head to the bar. The bartender seems to recognize Roman.

“Here for the open mic, are you, King?”

“You know it! Sign me right on up,” Roman laughs. Roman’s arm drops from Virgil’s shoulders. The bartender rolls his eyes, swipes some green dyed locks from his vision and writes Roman’s name on a pad.

“What song are you singing?”

“It’s a surprise, like usual, Vincent, I don’t know why you even bother asking,”

“Uh huh. And I see you brought a friend… you wanna sing too, baby-cheeks?” Vincent asks, leaning forwards.

Virgil hisses at him, then clears his throat.

“I don’t fucking sing,” he snarls, adding in his mind, in public. Vincent smiles knowingly.

“Aha, a feisty one. You really know how to pick em’, eh? Can I get you a drink then?” Virgil feels like he’s about to explode: this is not what he signed up for. He is here to be with Roman and watch out for him, not take this guy’s shit. Roman notices, and slings his arm once more over him.

“Nah, just a work colleague. He’s a nurse~ and doesn’t drink. It’s a shame, I know, but it’ll work better in my favor anyway. I’ll save money on the taxi. Incredible Sulk, how does a black coffee sound?”

“I guess that’s okay,” Virgil grumbles, glaring at this man even as he shrugs and complies. They both take a seat at the bar, Roman ordering some complicated fancy thing to match his personality and Virgil immediately hunching over his hot coffee. It’s surprisingly good for a bar, bitter yet flavourful, and Virgil finds himself smiling down at it.

“Eh, I think that smile says it’s more than just okay!” Roman purrs, shimmying closer to Virgil and bumping their shoulders. It seems as though the alcohol is already having an effect, his disposition somehow brighter. Virgil shies away slightly. Someone else saddles up to the bar and introduces himself. This man has long swoopy raven hair, and is even more lanky than Logan. He leans by Roman, eyes colder than Virgil would like. The dark haired fellow decides to listen in on the conversation… just in case.

“Hey, do I know you from somewhere?” the stranger says. Roman puts his hand on the bar, slurps the rest of his drink down in one go.

“I’m not sure- I do tend to get around. Where do you think you know me from, blue eyes?” Oh no. The guy’s got blue eyes, he didn’t even notice that. Virgil mourns his only chance at getting with Roman- this guy’s stealing it.

“Oh, I know! The theatre, right? You were Jason Dean in the Heathers production! Scary shit, man. You’re a fantastic singer. Hey, can we get another drink?” the stranger waves over Vincent, who fixes Roman another bright cocktail. Roman immediately starts fiddling with the straw, and looks up at the stanger.

“The name’s Roman. What’s yours?”

“I’m Lucian. It’s nice to meet you. Man, it’s so loud here: I wish we could go~,” Lucian says. Virgil narrows his eyes at the stranger, takes another sip of coffee. Roman smirks, and turns and winks at Virgil as if to say Look at this catch. Virgil tries to smile, but is pretty sure it’s just a grimace. It may just be Virgil’s luck (despite how it affects Roman) but Virgil notices Lucian dropping something in Roman’s drink. Virgil slams the table, slaps Lucian, and pushes the drink away. He fists his hand in Lucian’s shirt, able to lift the man a foot or two in the air. Patrons gawk at the events unfolding, Roman seems shocked.

“Don’t fucking touch Roman’s drink, what the fuck did you put in there you bastard?”

“Dude- that’s my drink. It was a little additive, I can consume alcohol without risk without it! He seemed to be enjoying it so much, I asked for one too, can you please- let me down, you’re hurting me-” Virgil snarls, but drops him anyway. Roman touches Virgil’s shoulder gently.

“He’s right, it’s his drink, Virgil. Thank you for defending me, but really it’s okay-” Roman reassures him, smiling placatingly, and all Virgil can feel is embarrassed. Embarrassed out of his mind and his anxiety is shooting through the roof.

“I-I… I- uh… I-” to make matters worse, another man comes stomping up to him, throws his drink on Virgil. His hoodie is now soaked, his shirt too. Virgil’s lower lip trembles. He grits his jaw against them, holding it in. Despite the fact that he’s made a total fool of himself in front of Roman. Virgil wants to bite his nails, to go home, to run away and never return. This new man points his finger right in Virgil’s face.

“Who the hell do you think you are, grabbing my husband’s shirt like that?” he growls. Virgil wants to hide in his sopping wet hoodie. Hide and never come back.

“I- erm, uh- umm-”

“My friend here is very sorry, there’s been a misunderstanding. Hey, can I buy the both of you a drink? Tell me how you met,” Roman leads them both away, looking pityingly at Virgil, “How bout you go to the bathroom and clean yourself up a little, huh? I’ll take care of this.”

Virgil ducks his head and runs with his tail between his legs. He throws himself into the surprisingly clean stall and locks it tight before falling down on the seat fully clothed. I can’t believe you did that you fucking idiot you’ll never shape up what were you thinking doing some stupid stunt like that? You’ve ruined it. Ruined everything. There’s no way Roman will ever want you now. Virgil’s panic attack is coming on quickly, like a train hurtling down a track with no end in sight. He doesn’t want it to happen, but he starts to cry.

Usually, Virgil looks to his familiar hoodie for comfort. But his hoodie is soaked, and Virgil is shivering in it. He should take it off. But he doesn’t want to, he just wants to wallow in it and wither away.

You’ll never amount to anything. You should have just stayed inside: no one would have missed you. Roman had to clean up after your mess, you were supposed to be helping and now you’re just rotting in the bathroom like an idiot. Why did you even come, if you’re just going to be a let down?

Virgil’s breath is coming out in uneven gasps, his heart is palpitating dangerously. He really shouldn’t be alone, he should go out and- no, no, no. His skin is too tight, his head is too small, and his hands are pressing bruises into his arms, he is holding them so tight. What is he supposed to do again? When his thoughts get too big for his mind and he feels like fainting, feels like how he was when he was younger and like his heart could just give out any minute and the next time he blinked open his eyes he’d be on a hospital bed.

His hazy, anxiety-filled mind vaguely recalls a conversation he had with Logan once, after he had pulled him back from an attack in the workplace (he mixed up two patients and fell apart in an empty room) that he should… he should ask for help. Call me, he had said, no matter the time. Just call me for help, and I’ll talk it out with you.

Logan is on speedial, Logan, Logan can help- with shaking fingers, Virgil can just make out the emergency phone button on his cell to call Logan.

The ringing of the phone helps station Virgil, stations him better than the pain in his hands. It picks up on the fifth ring.

“Hello, Doctor Logan Berry speaking.”

“Logan,” Virgil’s voice sounds so fucking raspy and teary, sounds so horrendously uncertain, “You- you said to call, and- if you’re busy just hang up, it’s fine you don’t have to worry, actually this was a bad idea, I’m going to hang up-”

“You will do no such thing, Virgil. Stay on the line with me. Scale of one to ten, how bad?”

“I- uh, I dunno, probably like- like a seven? I messed everything up, Lo, I- fuck, I can’t do anything right-”

“Well, that is one foul-tempered lie. Let’s calm down first, yes, and then you’ll tell me all about what happened. I’m sure it’s better than it seems,” Janus’s voice, even hindered through the phone, forces Virgil to relax. He had no idea that Janus could hear, but apparently they’re together. His mind recalls lamely that tonight is when they get together to go over payments and make sure everything is in order. A part of him is glad that Janus can hear; He’s like a hypnotist with his voice, a snake. Virgil nods, then another wave of idiocy flows through him because it’s over the phone.

“Okay, Virgil, now exhale through your mouth. I want to hear it through the telephone,” Logan instructs, no nonsense.

Virgil shakily breathes out.

“Good. Now close your mouth and inhale quietly through your nose. I’m going to count to four, alright?”

“O-okay,” Virgil complies, breathing it in. Janus counts him off rhythmically over the phone: Logan’s on the right and Janus on the left, and the result is relaxing.

“Hold your breath now for seven seconds. I’ll count for you once more.” Janus-

“Exhale again, for a total of eight seconds. Here we go-” Logan-

“Exceptional work, darling. You’re doing so well. Let’s repeat the process a few more times, how does that sound?” Janus-

Holy hell, do they make a good team.

And just like that, Virgil feels better. His chest eases, his mind soothes, and he’s no longer shaking.

“Thank you, both of you. That was- it was really fucking helpful. I don’t know what would happen if I was here alone,”

“If you don’t mind me asking… where is here?” Logan asks, dry and with no sense of privacy whatsoever.

“I’m at a bar with Roman. He- he invited me, because he wanted backup, and I made a total fool of myself. I got all aggressive on this guy who did nothing wrong,”

“Aha, jealous?” There’s a sound of Janus wrestling the phone from Logan, much to his displeasure, “Just finish this weeks, Berry-” is heard through the phone.

“Maybe… hey, wait a second! Who told you-”

“I’m not blind, Virgil. Nor stupid. Don’t even try that on me. It might work on the nerd, and even Remus and Patton, but unlike them, I��m not clueless,”

Virgil pouts, grunting softly. Is he really that obvious?

“Whatever! And now… I’ve got no chance with him. I don’t know why I even came here, anyone could see that it was a stupid idea.”

“No- well, yes, this was very stupid and most likely going to end in strife, but you still certainly have a chance! Remember, this is Roman we’re talking about: he’s a carousel when it comes to men, always changing.”

“That’s part of the issue, Jan- where am I? I’ll be left behind, and have to watch as he finds a another and another and another-”

“You’re starting to panic again, Virgil. Calm yourself. And I know that won’t happen.”

“How?”

“You’re more perceptive, attentive, and caring than any of those guys will ever be. Roman would be even more of an idiot than either of us could possibly imagine if he were to let you go. Again, I am not blind: I see how good you are with the patients. You are careful and thoughtful. Despite how you might see yourself, Virgil, you are a good person. A wonderful person, who makes mistakes, but always fixes them. You do not leave them behind you. You feel empathy, and guilt, two very humane things, and you remedy your problems. That’s what happened with me, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah… I guess, I guess you’re right,” Virgil’s blushing again. It’s true, that he doesn't like to leave things unsaid or unfinished: it makes him terribly worried, and the only solution he’s found is confronting them head on. Janus and Virgil had met long ago, when they were both younger: Janus had just started medical practices, and done work for Virgil. It ultimately failed and hurt Virgil more, which sparked deep hatred on Virgil’s side and a continued regret on Janus’s. They eventually reconciled, reuniting later when Virgil started out as a nurse, and everything had become much better.

“Now, get back out there, darling. You’ll do great.”

“...Thanks, Janus,”

“Anytime,” and with that, Janus hangs up the phone to return to Logan. Virgil sighs to himself, and exits the stall: in the mirror, he sees his makeup all ruined. He washes it off, cleans his hoodie (which is relatively drier now) and ends up taking off the damp shirt as well. Thank goodness he’s wearing an undershirt: walking out topless seems hellish, and this only slightly better.

It’s been a while since Virgil has gone anywhere without his hoodie on or makeup. He barely recognizes himself, and he sees this face every morning. But… it’ll be what it’ll be. Checking his phone, Virgil realizes that he’s been in the bathroom for… nearly two hours?

Oh my god, I hope Roman hasn’t left yet- Virgil flies out of the bathroom, holding his damp dress shirt and beloved hoodie in one crooked arm. Scanning the room, he notices Roman sitting at one of the small square tables watching some guy sing “Mad World” somewhat decently. Virgil sighs in relief, and walks over and sits right in front of him.

“Princey, thank god you’re still here. I’m sorry I wasn’t here,” Virgil says, his voice softer than usual from all the crying. Roman looks at him, a smile curving on his features.

“Hello there, you’re- you’re pretty,” Roman slurs slightly mid sentence, and Virgil gapes. Roman is drunk. Very drunk. So drunk, that he doesn’t recognize Virgil without his makeup and hoodie. While Virgil stares openmouthed, Roman reaches over and squeezes his bicep. “Ooh, you’re so strong too! Pretty face, and a hot body-”

“Roman, you seriously don’t recognize me? Honest to god?” Virgil insists. Roman blinks slowly, but there’s no spark. Roman seriously has no idea, Virgil’s a stranger.

He should probably bring him home.

Or… he can start over. Roman won’t remember it anyway: this might be his only chance.

“I think I’d remember such a handsome prince” Roman huffs. Virgil, unsurprisingly, blushes.

“That’s very kind of you. You don’t look half bad yourself,” Virgil purrs.

“Oh- you’re a flirt too! I like you,” Roman smiles widely, “Do you want to get another drink?”

“I think you’ve had enough… do you want to go up and sing instead?” Virgil suggests, scooching closer to Roman. Touching his clothed shoulder, he feels how warm Roman is. Roman snuggles up to Virgil just a tad- he’s over affectionate, and with no filter, and no sense. It’s adorable, and Virgil is glad he got here when he did, because who knows who would take advantage of this cuddly child-like man?

Now he understands why Roman needs a drinking buddy.

“I love singing, I’m very good at it. I like Disney too. Do you like Disney?”

“Yes, I like Disney,” Virgil snorts. They’ve had this debate over and over: the both of them like the franchise, though Virgil sees the darker bits that Roman tends to ignore.

“You wanna- you wanna sing Love is an Open Door with me? I like that song, it’s a good song-” Roman rambles, looking excited. Virgil hates public speaking, let alone public speaking, but… he doesn’t know anyone here, what’s the issue?

“That sounds good. Let’s go sign up, shall we?” Virgil suggests, Roman excitedly clinging to Virgil’s arm.

“You’re so cold, it’s so nice,” Roman murmurs, rubbing his face on Virgil’s bare shoulder. Virgil can’t help but smile: his heart is beating fast, but in a fantastic way. Vincent doubletakes as they make it to the bar.

“Hey you two- heading home? Ro looks pretty slammed…”

“I’ll take him home in a bit. He wants to do one more song,” Virgil explains. Roman giggles, and Virgil’s heart does another flip. His smile widens.

“Ah, sorry folks- Roman can’t do another one. He’s already exhausted the limit of five: you should have heard him sing some of those. An undercover celebrity, he is,” Vincent reaches over and mussies Roman’s hair, to which Virgil slaps his hand away.

“Princey, did you hear? You can’t sing another one,” Virgil tells him, his voice still soft.

“Aww, really? I wanna- I wanna sing some ‘ore,” Roman pouts, his lower lips trembling. Virgil kisses his cheek, just a peck really, that’s all he can manage without exploding. Roman turns on a dime, sadness morphing to elation all at once. He leans in for another, to which Virgil declines, pushing him away with a palm.

“Hey, how about I sing a song for you, huh? How does that sound?” Virgil asks, nervous beyond anything at singing in front of all these people, but Roman seems so ecstatic at the thought that Virgil knows he’ll be going through with it.

“You sing? But you just-” gawks Vincent. Virgil glares at him.

“Don’t act so surprised. And yes, I do. Just didn’t feel like saying it. Totally. When do I go up?”

“After this guy,” Vincent points at the person going on stage, and Virgil steels himself for this experience. It’s okay, you’re the only one who’ll remember. It’ll be fine. Virgil starts walking closer to the stage, Roman hanging on him still. “Hey, dude, are you going to tell me what you’re singing? I’ll set it up for you,”

“I got it. We’re good, right Princey?”

“I’m so good, I’m the best, you’re so nice, gonna sing a song for me-” Roman rambles. Virgil shakes his head good-humoredly, adoring this side of him. Not suave or fanciful at all: only cute. They come to a table right by the stage, miraculously empty and clean.

“Okay, Ro, you wanna sit here and watch?” Roman smiles, nodding quickly, and plops down in one of the chairs. Virgil goes beside him, fanning his confidence by reaching for his large hand. Just like in the car, Roman takes it and squeezes.

“I’m so moved, you’re going to sing something for me! So romantic!” Roman gushes. Virgil blushes, rubbing his thumb on Roman’s sun-kissed hand.

“I’ll sing it just for you: you know, I really don’t like public speaking. Or any of this stuff… but you’re not going to remember me, so I don’t think it’ll matter. I really really like you, Roman. I’ve known you for a while, so it wasn’t all at once, but you tease me with all of your flirty winks and tell me about how much you get around and today, calling me pretty- you’re destroying me, and you don’t even notice. You never do, and- Janus said that I’d be good for you. Grounding. A good boyfriend. I don’t know what he sees in me, but clearly you don’t see that. You like- you like grand gestures, romance, and flirting… I can’t do any of that. Except for today, when I’m not nervous anymore, because you’re never going to remember this whole thing. It’ll just be for me. Just for me to remember, for you to enjoy now. You’ll never know how much I love you anyway, so it’s just for me. Just for poor heartsick Virgil,” Virgil tells him, under the lights and despite the singing in the background. Roman blinks a few times, not understanding.

“I- uhm… I don’t understand, whadda ya mean?” Roman squints at him. Virgil sighs, presses their foreheads together and gets up.

“Doesn’t matter. I only want to say… whatever, it doesn’t matter. It’s my turn to go,” and Virgil pulls away, waving slightly to the confused man, and hunches his shoulders to make him look small as he walks to the center of the stage. Scrolling through the music (it operates sort of like a karaoke machine), Virgil selects a song he knows.

Virgil doesn’t particularly like his singing voice: his mother loves it, would sing along with him during Nightmare Before Christmas, and told him it was very nice. It’s kind of low, gentle, and the words flow into the next.

“The dawn is breaking, a light shining through… you’re barely waking, and I’m tangled up in you,” Virgil sings quietly. It’s awkward, and he can’t look out into the audience at all, and he hears them ignore him. He takes a deep breath, and continues. “I’m open, you’re closed. Where I follow, you’ll go. I worry I won’t see your face light up again,”

People are starting to notice Virgil, as his voice rises, and it’s frightening but also exhilarating. He refuses to make eye-contact with them, unlike Roman who always does, and speaking of him- it’s very clear that Roman’s watching, enraptured. Virgil can practically feel it.

“Even the best fall down sometimes, even the wrong words seem to rhyme- Out of the doubt that fills my mind, I somehow find you and I, collide,” Someone in the crowd whistles, causing Virgil to struggle a bit, but he picks it up right after. He’s imagining that it’s only him and Missy and- Roman. Virgil glances up at Roman barely: he’s awestruck, and it fills Virgil’s heart with glee.

“I’m quiet you know.You make a first impression. But I’ve found I’m scared to know you’re always on my mind,” Virgil messes up the lyrics a bit, but no one notices at all. They’re cheering him on, listening attentively- it helps him go on, return his gaze to the floor.

“Even the best fall down sometimes, even the stars refuse to shine, out of the back you fall in time, somehow find, you and I- collide,” Virgil’s voice is still quiet: even as his confidence rises, he can’t seem to raise it at all.

“Don’t stop here. I’ve lost my place. I’m close behind,” Virgil used to sing this song with his parents, when he was young: his mother and father would sing and dance with him. It has sentimental value, it reminds him of childhood and pain and love and survival. They used to sing it to him, comforting him with the words. He knows every one.

“Even the best fall down sometimes. Even the wrong words seem to rhyme. Out of the doubt that fills your mind, you finally find that you and I collide. Finally find that you and I collide. You finally find you and I collide,” the music plays for a while longer, with Virgil humming along rhythmically. When it finally fades out, Virgil scurries off the stage to thunderous applause. It is way too much attention, all at once. On his way, he grabs Roman’s sleeve, dragging him out as people fawn. As they rapidly exit, Vincent calls out from the bar.

“Hey, grump- I don’t sing, my ass! You sing gorgeous! Come back anytime, with or without Roman!” Virgil glares at him, and then he’s out into the parking lot.

“Phew- that was- oh my god, that was exhilarating. Roman? What did… what did you mmfp-” Virgil was smiling until he was cut off by Roman’s lips on his. Virgil moans into it: it’s more decadent than he could have ever imagined. Roman’s lips are deceptively soft and taste like strawberries. He finally moves back for air, and Virgil leans against the car, holding his mouth. Did… did that just happen? It takes a second to register that a) Roman kissed him, and b) that it doesn’t matter because he’s not in his right mind. It’s worth nothing beyond right now… but it means so so much. Virgil will remember this for the rest of his godforsaken life.

“Ro-Roman, what was that for?” Virgil murmurs, touching his lips addictively.

“You’re the kindest guy I’ve ever met. God, I want to take you home. Handsome, and sweet, and caring and a voice of an angel. I wish I met you forever ago,” Roman says, approaching closer to Virgil until he’s pressed up against the car and can feel Roman’s warmth, “Fuck… I don’t even know your name, but you’re… you’re magic,”

“You’re making me seem better than I am, really,” Virgil flushes, feeling all sorts of fuzzy feelings. Roman chuckles, coming in closer to lean his head on Virgil’s shoulders.

“I don’t… I don’t think I am, beautiful… I just- I don’t want to go home alone tonight. I’m so freaking lonely, all the goddamn time. So lonely… it’s only me, and no one really cares, when it comes down to it,” Roman sighs, on the verge of tears. Virgil is dumbfounded: who would have thought? Roman, the Prince of Theatre, who sings songs to children and flirts easily, and never is by himself because he’s a magnet for conversation… is lonely.

“Maybe we can be lonely together,” Virgil whispers aloud, meaning it to be internal but slipping out anyway.

“Can… can we?” Roman pleads, “Please?” Virgil exhales: he’s so cute. Remember though- he’s not going to recall any of this. It hurts, all of a sudden, that Virgil is at once Roman’s world and at the same time an illusion.

“Alright, alright. We’ll see,” Virgil smiles at him. Roman leans down for another kiss, and now Virgil lets him. What’s the harm? I’m the only one who will hurt. I can take it. “I should take you home now, huh? You can’t drive, you’re drunk,”

“Pfft- I am not-”

“You are,” Virgil rolls his eyes, unlocking his car, “Now get in.” Roman shuffles his feet around. Virgil glares.

“In the car, Princey, you have to go home now,” he demands. Roman frowns, looks away stubbornly. And, just like a puppy, he’s adorable but persistent as all hell. Roman murmurs something under his breath, inaudible. Glancing at him kinder, Virgil asks him to speak up.

“I don’t wanna go home, I wanna stay with you,” Roman mumbles, slightly louder. And, Virgil is struck right in the heart. My god, is it even legal to be that cute? Virgil sighs: he should bring Roman to his house, that’s what he had asked before he was intoxicated, and he definitely can’t take advantage of him, but… those eyes are begging for him to stay with him. He can’t refuse.

“Okay, okay, you win. It’s going to be impossible to explain this to you in the morning, but whatever! I’ll drive you to my house,” Virgil agrees, and the look of pure elation on Roman’s face is more than reward enough. Though Virgil has to help Roman’s wobby body into the passenger seat and buckle him up, he can’t stop smiling.

Even as he starts the car to drive it home.

Even as Roman says he’s going to be sick.

Even as he has to rush Roman upstairs to his apartment before he pukes all over the place, Virgil is happy.

Roman hugs Virgil’s middle after he cleans him up. Missy and Roman get along swimmingly, Virgil offering to let him hold her, and Roman enraptured by her. He’s enthralled by Virgil lending him a toothbrush, seemingly blessed by the offering of a piece of toast to calm his stomach at the small kitchen bar. Roman stares at it, sitting on one of the stools.

“Why are you so nice to me?” he wonders. Virgil frowns. Are people usually unkind to you?

“This is normal, Princey. People are supposed to look out for one another,”

“Oh. Yeah,” Roman says to himself. Virgil can’t hold back from reaching over and kissing his forehead.

“Anytime you need, I’ll be nice to you. I don’t mean to be so prickly: it’s a defense mechanism. You only have to tell me you’d like some care, and I’ll give you everything,” Virgil tells him. This charming man, he hiccups and his eyes water as he blubbers. Virgil is good with a lot of things: crying crushes are not one of them. “Hey, no crying, don’t cry! Let’s go to bed, huh? Yeah, that sounds nice, doesn’t it?”

Roman makes a pitiful little nod, and Virgil leads him to the bedroom. There’s only one… so either they share, or Virgil’s going to the couch. So, he tucks Roman into the warm black duvet and brushes his forehead as a way of good night. As he goes to leave, Roman grabs onto his arm.

“Stay with me? Please?”

“Ro, I don’t- I don’t think this is a good idea, buddy. No, it’s really not a good idea,” his heartbeat is picking up again, and Virgil bites his lip nervously. Roman ignores it, pulls his hand to kiss it.

“Stay with me, princess,” he purrs. Are you trying to kill me? Roman’s too attractive, too flirtatious. And Virgil’s too head over heels to say no. And that’s how he finds himself sharing his bed with Roman King.

Who fell asleep almost immediately, and snuggled up right into Virgil’s side. So close, that there is a permanent blush on Virgil’s face and his breath on his neck. Okay, this is not going to work. I’m never going to get to sleep if this goes on. Fuck.

Virgil shuffles away, attempting to get out of bed and go sleep on the couch, but Roman slings and arm over him and growls “Stay”.

Well, can’t argue with that, now can I?

~~~~~~

When morning filters through the window, Roman blinks awake. Jiminy Cricket, does his head hurt. Ugh, what happened last night? This isn’t his bed: it’s not colourful at all, all blacks and purples. For goodness sakes, the curtains that are blocking most of the sun have spiders on it. Roman rubs his eyes: did he go home with someone? He must’ve. But who? Roman can’t really recall: he doesn’t remember talking to anyone. After Virgil ran out to the bathroom, Roman just wanted to drink and be alone. Anyone who approached him was turned away instantly by one of his cold stares.

He couldn’t help but feel as though it was sort of his fault: he said he’d be with him. That Roman would leave Virgil alone. And yet… he was in the bathroom for two hours, and not once did Roman gather the courage to go and check on him. And then what? Then he went to some strangers home and left Virgil?

What kind of asshole would do that to someone? Virgil, despite how he acts, is amazingly perceptive. He can tell when something is wrong, it’s why he’s so good as a nurse… he’s just genuinely a good person. And Roman left him?

He can’t imagine he’d do that to the emo, even drunk. He wouldn’t be able to forget Virgil, would he?

No, he really has no clue.

Think, Roman, think- he presses his hands to his pounding head, as if it would squeeze out a memory. All that happens is scraps of a song. Oh great, not only do I have no idea where I am but now there’s a song stuck in my head. Wonderful.

“Even the best fall down sometimes, even the wrong words seem to rhyme-” he murmurs under his breath. Then an image follows right after: a man, holding onto the microphone at the bar, singing the words so soft, so sweetly. It makes his heart pang, it’s so lovely. Is that the guy I went home with? Roman thinks to himself. He focuses harder on the memory. The man, he looks up shyly, nervously, and meets eyes with Roman.

God, he’s fucking beautiful. Love at first sight? Maybe not, but whatever this is, it’s as close to that as it could possibly be. It makes Roman feel all warm and bubbly inside. He bites his lip and looks at the ceiling of this stranger’s bed. Things come back in bits and pieces all out of order; kissing that man by a car, his car- that man laughing at him as he gawks at his, what is that, a spider?- the man sitting at a table in the bar right next to him, letting him nuzzle his shoulder (embarrassing, it makes Roman blush he was so mushy)- a kiss to his forehead to calm him, wiping away drunken tears ever so gently. His hands felt baby-soft, despite the obvious muscular frame he sported.

Who is he…?

“I’ll sing it just for you: you know, I really don’t like public speaking…” in his mind, this man’s voice follows: it’s soft, muted a touch. Focus now, Roman, you’ve almost got it-

“You’re not going to remember me, so I don’t think it’ll matter…” Of course it matters! I’m not a blackout drunk! Roman wants to scream.

“I really really like you, Roman,” his voice, saying such kind words, is like what he’d imagine an angel would sound like. Or some sweet interaction that only comes between A-List celebrities in a scripted movie.

“I’ve known you for a while…” Okay, finally, getting somewhere. He knows him? Does he do tech at the theatre or something? It’s a possibility.

“You’re destroying me, and you don’t even notice…” Well, that’s harsh. Kind makes him feel guilty: this gorgeous meal of a man was lusting over him, and he didn’t even notice? What kind of idiot-

“Janus said that I’d be good for you. Grounding. A good boyfriend…” So he knows the snakey doctor. That can either be very good or very bad: is this fellow a sleazeball? No, Roman assures himself blushing heavily, He’s too sweet to do that. Too kind and loving. Did you see him sing that song? Just for you too- and he looked so nervous! Precious!!

“I don’t know what he sees in me, but clearly you don’t see that…” Roman wants to pull his hair out. Did Roman say or do something wrong? Did he ruin his chances with this Adonis, because if he did, he’ll be furious.

“You like grand gestures, romance, and flirting… I can’t do any of that,” I don’t care! I don’t care about any of that! I just want someone to hold my hand and not treat me like shit! Just a sweet cute guy!

“I’m not nervous anymore, because you’re never going to remember this whole thing,” Ah, sorry to break it to you, but hey, I’m remembering! And I’m going to track you down!

“You’ll never know how much I love you anyway, so it’s just for me…” he sounds melancholy, so very sad, and Roman wants to hold him. Hold him and kiss the top of his head and make him feel better. This person, he doesn’t deserve to be ignored. Why was Roman ever-

“Just for poor heartsick Virgil,” Roman’s mouth runs dry. Virgil? Virgil. He- the man he went with- Virgil. Virgil was singing to him, with that angelic voice, Virgil drove him to his house because he didn’t want to leave him alone and every other little wonderful thing, the forehead kisses and the smiles and the hands- oh my stars, I am an imbecile.

How didn’t he notice? How Virgil would bite back at him whenever he flirted with him teasingly, how Virgil wilted whenever Roman talked about his relationships, how careful and thoughtful he was with every move, hell, he even agreed to go out to the bar with him to find some other guy because he was worried for Roman’s safety.

How was I so blind that I missed the perfect man right in front of my eyes?

And this… this must be Virgil’s house. It’s… very Virgil. Is that a Nightmare Before Christmas poster? Yes, it is- how wonderful. How him.

How didn’t Roman notice? It’s that classic blunder, unseeing of the person right in front of him. How did he not see how romantic Virgil is? Little gestures, smart moves, kindness. Thoughtful. He had said that he wasn’t a romantic, but by Jove- he’s sweet. His mind can’t stop repeating Virgil’s soft singing and his gentleness. God, it’s so beautiful it’s painful. He should tell him to go without makeup more often. And a shirt. Yes, without a shirt sounds good. Undercover buff, much?

His mind swirls with the knowledge of Virgil.

Oh shit- how is he going to face Virgil now? He’s in his house, he’s most likely in the living room: should he just pretend like he doesn’t remember?

Roman’s a good actor, he could pull it off: but Virgil would still be wanting and lonesome. And Roman would know, and that hurts. He won’t do that to him, not anymore.

He should just come out, say that he remembers and... ask him out on a date. A proper one. They both have the day off today, it could be now!

They’d do Virgil things, things that make the emo happy, maybe a zoo or watch movies or coffee shops or whatever. And... Roman will hold his hand, hold him, and hold him and hold him. Yes, yes, this is good.

Roman wishes he had more time to plan. Time to get flowers, or chocolates or anything, really. Wait, you don’t even know if he’ll say yes! Maybe he’s so embarrassed by the whole interaction that-

Wait.

Is that pancakes?

Roman sniffs at the air: yes, it is. Blueberry ones, at that. And coffee. His stomach rumbles, and hunger is enough to spur him out of bed. His legs are wobbly, and his head is swimming, but he makes it out of the room eventually.

“Oh hey, Princey, finally decide to wake from your endless slumber, huh?” Virgil teases. His makeup has returned, as usual. He’s wearing another hoodie, a black one, and it’s hanging off his shoulders as he flips pancakes. Roman’s mouth runs dry. “Also, umm, sorry about not taking you to your apartment. I didn’t want to leave you alone.”

“Oh... it’s fine,” Roman sounds odd, even to himself, and Virgil gives him a skeptical look. “Heh, anyone who makes me good morning pancakes is alright in my book!”

Virgil snorts, and pushes a plate over the kitchen bar for Roman to sit and eat.

“How’s your head? What do you- you know, never mind,” Virgil ducks his head into the fridge to receive some maple syrup, “You like it warmed?”

“Uh... if it isn’t an issue,” Virgil casts another weird look to Roman: is he being too nice? Roman can’t help it, how could he be rude? He puts his syrup in the microwave, with the long pale fingers.

“I uh- Virgil,” Roman starts, more nervous than anything, “Oh fuck, this is hard but- I uh-”

“You’re making me worried, Princey, spit it out or shut up and eat my food,” Virgil glares. Roman gulps. It’s like a bandaid, rip it off, come on, just spit it out-

“I REMEMBER! I remember everything, I always do after I’m drunk, it’s why I get a buddy, because I always remember in the morning and I hate what I’m like when I’m intoxicated, because I always remember, I think I’ve said that a few times- uh, Virgil, are you okay?” Roman finally looks up at Virgil- or rather down, as the man has crumpled to the floor in a heap. Has he fainted? Roman gets up and squats next to him.

“Virgil?” he whispers into his ear, poking at him. Virgil jolts up, narrowly missing a collision with Roman’s head as he sits up straight. He groans, and puts his head in his hands to try and hide his full-faced blush.

“Fuck, I’m such an idiot, oh my god, I’ve made a total fool of myself- oh god, please just leave me alone to die, Roman, just go,” he yells. Roman chuckles, and peels Virgil’s hands from his face. He seems about to cry, moisture glistening at his eyes. Roman’s heart can’t take it: he thinks he looks foolish? No, never.

Roman kisses the corners of his eyes.

“You’re not an idiot, you’re most certainly not a fool. I’m sorry I didn’t notice you before at the office. I’m the only idiot between the two of us, because I didn’t see how wonderful you were until you had to be blatant about it. I’m so very sorry, and in your debt. I feel silly to even try and ask, but would you… perchance, want a real date? One where I’m not flirting with other people- only with you, you Incredible Sulk,” Roman consoles Virgil pulling him into an embrace.

“Really?” Virgil asks.

“Honestly,”

“Then yeah, yeah, that sounds okay. I uh… I don’t do a whole lot so-” Roman cuts Virgil off by pressing his finger to his lips. Virgil raises his eyebrows.

“How’s right this second sound?”

“Yeah- uhm, that works for me-”

“Fantastic! And I believe your pancakes are burning,” Roman notes, laughing as Virgil shoots up cursing colourfully as he discards a very black pancake. Even as the man squawks and yells and forces Roman back into his seat, he can’t help but feel fulfilled. After the pancake fiasco is remedied, Virgil breathes a sigh of relief and smiles at Roman.

“Sorry about that, Princey,”

“Hey, it’s no problem for me! Kind of entertaining, actually,” Roman snickers, earning him a slap upside the head. And then, just to push Virgil’s buttons, he snakes his hand through his dark locks and kisses him deeply over the counter. It’s a knee-shaking kiss, a heart-stopper, a signature Roman smooch. One he should’ve given Virgil last night, but was too drunk to make happen. It seems like Virgil likes it too, if the noises are any indication. Virgil is the first to pull back for air, and presses his chest, gasping.

“Oh my goodness, was that too much? Are you okay, Virgil?” Roman frets. Virgil, he recalls, has some sort of horrible cocktail of medical issues. Most he’s grown out of, but the effects still linger.

“Yeah, I’m fine, it’s cool. Hah, my heart’s still beating. It’s stopped once before, and I have a defibrillator in my room but- I’m okay. I guess that just means I’m fragile, right? Gotta be careful with my heart, both ways, alright?” A still beating heart. How romantic, how delightful.

“Now you must stay with me, so I can restart your heart whenever it’s required!” Roman announces. Virgil rolls his eyes and scoffs, despite his small smile, then returns to finishing off the end of his pancake batter. Roman pokes his bicep, his deceptively strong bicep, to pester him into an answer. Virgil catches it, squeezes.

“Hey! My heart’s still beating, you’re going to have to try harder,” he teases. It has to be the most lovely seductive challenge he’s ever been issued. And you said you weren’t a romantic.

His heart still beats, and it beats just as hard for Roman as the other way around.

How positively lovely.

~~~~

And from that day on, the entire pediatric office would all go out once a month to a particular bar’s karaoke night, and Roman and Virgil would sing many songs but always one. They always sang one at the end, and it was so beautiful that people cry every time. It’s longing and love and acceptance.

They like to hold hands while they do it, perhaps to show off their relationship… or maybe just the matching rings that adorn their fingers.

~~~~~

The End! Thanks for reading!

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emy-loves-you · 4 years ago

Text

Perfection Isn’t Perfect

So, as some people know, I lost a bet to @imthebadguythatsfine and my punishment was to write 3K words of whatever they wished. My prompt was: cutesy anaroceit date! It was originally supposed to be something completely different, but plot came and slapped me in the face. So here we are!

Summary: Roman, Janus and Virgil were planning on having a fancy date, but it was canceled due to bad weather. Roman will not stand for it, and assures his loves that they don’t need fancy clothes and nice makeup to have a good date night. Anaroceit with nonbinary!Virgil, genderfluid!Roman, and background QPR Intrulogicality

Warnings: Implied Sex (Remus), language

Words: 3,333

Masterlist

Virgil sighed as they scrubbed the makeup off of their face. Another date night lost to bad weather. Just their luck. They looked up at the corner of their mirror, smiling sadly at the two pictures taped there. The first one showed Roman up on a stage, her pink pronoun bracelet proudly on display, giggling as she spun in circles. The other photo showed Janus at the zoo, holding an intense staring contest with a python (Virgil had actually recorded that entire experience, mainly because it took their boyfriend a full 2 minutes to remember that snakes didn’t blink).

Virgil loved their partners with all of their heart. They had all met in high school, each one from a different social group. Roman, the theatre nerd. Janus, the popular kid. Virgil, the resident bad boy and social outcast. None of them would’ve met if it hadn’t been for Roman’s twin brother, Remus. Remus had quickly attached himself to Janus and Virgil, and introduced them to Roman a few months later. The rest, as they say, was history.

Virgil shook their head, focusing back on their makeup. They’ve been dating Roman and Janus for a few years now, but it was nearly impossible to spend time with both of them. Roman was always auditioning for some play, hoping to rack up enough credit to reach Broadway. Janus was still in college, trying to fulfill his dreams of becoming a lawyer. And Virgil didn’t know what to do with their life. They were currently a manager at the local supermarket while commissioning artwork on the side. Virgil was the only one with a predictable schedule, and even then they were constantly busy. They could usually score a lunch date with either Roman or Janus, but the third was almost always busy. Today was supposed to be their first three-person date in over a month. Virgil sighed. They were looking forward to seeing their partners face-to-face. They would just have to settle for video chats and texts.

Virgil sighed as they continued to wipe off their makeup. Janus and Roman always looked like they were runway models, especially during dates. Virgil would spend hours on their makeup and hair so they didn’t look homeless in comparison. It was kind of daunting, actually. Their partners always looked perfect, with perfect makeup and unwrinkled clothes. Virgil would probably die of embarrassment if their partners saw the way they look at home, wearing only a baggy hoodie and some sweatpants, their hair tied up in a messy bun.

“VIRGEY! WHERE ARE YOU?”

Virgil screamed, jumping as they threw their makeup wipes at the bathroom door where the sound was originating. A few seconds later, the door opened to reveal Remus standing there, soaking wet. Remus grinned. “Pack your pajamas and toothbrush, we’re having a sleepover!”

Virgil blinked slowly, staring at their best friend. “What?”

Remus started bouncing slightly as he grabbed Virgil’s hand. “C’mon! You need to get out of this stuffy apartment. I’ve got food and games and movies!” He smirked. “So grab your sexiest pjs and come on!”

Virgil blushed before sighing. “Alright, geez. Just let me get this makeup off first.” Remus sometimes crashed at their place for ‘sleepovers,’ but this would be the first time that Virgil stayed at his place. But Remus was right, Virgil did need to get out of their apartment and stop focusing on their ruined date.

Remus giggled. “Alrighty then! I’ll be downstairs.”

Ten minutes later, Virgil stood in their living room, backpack hung loosely around their shoulders. They were still bummed that they didn’t get to go on their date, but at least they could spend some time with Remus. “Let’s go.”

“Alrighty, then! Get ready to get wet!”

“Why am I getting- oh.” Virgil stared at their now open apartment door, rain pouring so quickly that they could barely see a few feet in front of their face. Virgil sighed. It’s not like anyone’s gonna see me like this. With that, Virgil marched out into the rain, shuddering as the initial chill soaked through them. Virgil quickly locked the door before sprinting towards Remus’ car, not stopping until they were safely in the backseat. Remus followed a few seconds later, and Virgil snorted as they saw the air freshener hanging on the mirror. It had the outline of a deer with the words Oh Deer in the middle. Virgil snorted. “Did Patton get you that?”

Remus’ grin softened as he looked up at the air freshener. “And what if he did? I’m allowed to get gifts from my squishes!”

Virgil laughed. “Yeah, but it’s an air freshener.”

Remus huffed. “I recognize that some people might not appreciate my natural scent, but that does not mean you should ridicule me, Emo!”

Virgil chuckled. “Yeah, yeah. Let’s get out of here, trash rat.”

Remus laughed as he turned on the car. “Why are you in the backseat?”

Virgil raised their eyebrow. “Because last time I sat in the passenger seat, there was a squirrel in your glovebox.”

“First of all, I did not know about the squirrel. Second of all, that was one time!”

“Yeah, one time too many!” They both chuckled at that, before the car descended into a comfortable silence. A few minutes later, they arrived in front of a house. Virgil started to unbuckle before they realized something. “Remus, this isn’t your house.”

“Uh-huh.” Remus responded, staring at his phone.

“...Then why are we here?”

“You’ll see.”

Virgil huffed, leaning back in their seat. They scrolled through tumblr for a few minutes before the car door opened, someone climbing into the passenger seat with their umbrella and bag. “Sorry, I couldn’t find my face… masks…”

Virgil locked eyes with Janus, feeling their cheeks heat up. Janus was still wearing a fancy yellow button-up shirt and some black slacks, but his hair was ruffled and his makeup was gone. Virgil turned to look at Remus, who was silently giggling at the scene. “You said this was just the two of us.”

Remus chuckled. “I said no such thing! I just implied it!” He turned the car back on and drove away, humming a merry tune he’d heard from Patton while ignoring the tense silence around him.

Virgil could barely stop themself from openly staring at Janus. They’d never seen Janus so… casual. Janus was always dressed to perfection, his perfect makeup and hair only topped by Roman (Roman was the only person Virgil knew to carry both a makeup back and hairspray at all times). It was odd to see Janus without his perfect hair and makeup. A good odd, but still odd nonetheless.

Just as Virgil was contemplating breaking the silence, Remus pulled up to another house. This time it was Janus who pointed out the obvious. “Remus, this isn’t your house.”

Remus giggled. “I never said you were staying at my house. Now come on!”

Remus immediately ran inside, ignoring the rain around him. Janus opened his door and immediately opened his umbrella, then stood there silently. Virgil wondered what he was doing as they got out of the car, until Janus moved to cover both of them with the umbrella. “I assumed you didn’t bring your own.” His tone was slightly teasing, and Virgil was relieved that they might get through this night with minimal awkwardness. “Come now, no need to keep Remus waiting.”

Virgil surveyed the house they were in. Cardboard boxes lined the walls, each one labeled for a different part of the house. They heard laughing from further in the house and followed it, Janus trailing quietly behind them. They reached the kitchen and saw Remus giggling on a barstool, watching as someone whistled and danced as they put something into the oven. His blue pronoun bracelet was a sharp contrast to his bright red pajamas with gold crowns. His hair was sticking up in every direction, and when he turned around Virgil noted that he had no makeup on. But it was still impossible to not recognize him. “Roman?”

Roman chuckled sheepishly. “Surprise?” He gestured to the house. “I was gonna tell you on our date tonight, but that didn’t really happen, so…” Roman clapped his hands (Virgil fondly noted years ago that he only did that when he rambled and needed to get back on topic). “Yeah! This is my new house! I was gonna tell you all about it in person but there was rain so I decided to show you instead!” He made cute little jazz hands. “Tada!”

Virgil blinked in shock while Janus spoke up. “Roman, Darling, I understand why you wanted to show us your home, but why did you have Remus bring us? And why be so secretive about this?”

Roman rubbed the back of his neck, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment. “Well, after our date got cancelled, I was talking with Remus-”

“More like bemoaning”

“Talking about how I wish we could have a date without one of us being absent or the weather ruining everything, and Remus asked why we couldn’t just have the date here? And that’s when I realized something.” Roman started gesturing as he spoke. “All of our dates are so ridiculously formal! Other than texts and video calls, when was the last time we spent time together without fancy makeup or perfect hair? I can’t even remember!” He gestured around the mostly-empty kitchen. “So I’ve prepared a perfect date, set with no expectations whatsoever!”

Now it was Virgil’s turn to speak up. “Date?”

Roman smiled softly. “Now, no need to fret. I can hear the wheels turning in your head, My Chemically Imbalanced Romance.” Virgil blushed at the nickname. “The point of this is to spend time together without any stress of trying to look and act perfect. If we can’t have a nice time like this,” he gestured to his pajamas “then how are we gonna have a happy life together?”

Before Virgil or Janus could even try to respond, Remus spoke up. “Well, if you no longer need your bestest twin ever to be your uber driver…”

Roman chuckled. “Go hang out with your squishes. I know you’ve been dying to see them all day.”

“Damn right I have!” Remus quickly made his way out of the kitchen, waving to Janus and Virgil. “Bye Janny! Bye V! Have fun and use a condom!”

“Tell Pat and Specks we said hi! And tell Specks that he still owes me a jar of Crofters!” Roman called out as Remus left, smiling at the laugh he got in return. He then turned back to Virgil and Janus. “So! I have a pizza in the oven and various junk foods throughout the kitchen. I’ve set up some MarioKart and Disney+ in the living room, and I have some moisturizers and nail polish if you’re up for it!”

Janus said something, but Virgil didn’t hear it, their thoughts running wild for a moment. They didn’t even realize that their partners were trying to get their attention until they felt a hand on their shoulder. They saw Janus’ hand, but it was Roman who was in Virgil’s direct field of vision. Roman gave them a curious look, and Virgil let out a shaky breath. “Sorry, I’m still adjusting to this. I just went from a random hangout with Remus, to a potentially awkward hangout with Remus and Janus, to knowing that I’m now on a date with both of my partners without any way to even try and look nice.”

Roman smiled softly. “That’s why I had Remus bring you two under the guise of a sleepover. I didn’t want you to panic and try to force yourself to be formal and make yourself uncomfortable.” His face then became serious. “However, I understand if this was too sudden. If you want, I can drive you home now. Or you can take up the guest bedroom and have the night to yourself. We would never judge you for something like that.”

Virgil shook their head. “No, I want to do this. It just… hit me all at once, I guess.” They felt their cheeks get warm with embarrassment.

Roman chuckled. “No need to feel embarrassed, Panic at the Everywhere.” He then held out his hand. “Now, onward to video games and Disney movies!”

Virgil giggled as they grabbed Roman’s hand, holding their other hand out for Janus to take. Roman let them to the living room, which was almost completely bare. “When did you move in here, Roman?”

“A few days ago. I wasn’t planning on decorating before showing it off, but we don’t need Disney posters to have a good date!” He pushed a controller into Virgil’s hands. “Here, pick your character. You too, Jack the Fibber.”

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Out of my way, Janus!”

“Sorry Darling, but first place is mine.”

Virgil smirked as they heard their partners bickering. “Eat shell, bitches.” Two red shells shot out, hitting their mark.

“Aggh, Virgil! Love of my life, why do you do this to me!”

Virgil giggled at Roman’s dramatics, but was suspicious when Janus remained silent. Just as they were a few seconds from winning, Virgil felt a hand gently grip their chin and tilt their head-

Virgil felt lips on theirs and groaned into the kiss, not realizing their mistake until they heard the sound of someone crossing the finish line. They quickly looked back at the screen and saw their character stuck on a wall in 5th place. They quickly finished their race before turning back to Janus, who was now smirking. “You little shit!”

Janus laughed. “You wouldn’t let me be in first, so I returned the favor.”

Virgil gestured over to Roman, who was dancing on the other end of the living room. “You let Roman win! That’s not fair!”

Janus kissed them again, a teasing smirk on their lips. “All’s fair in love and war, Love.”

Virgil grumbled as their cheeks grew warm from the kiss. “Shouldn’t the pizza be done by now?”

Roman gasped as he ran to the kitchen. “THE PIZZA!”

Virgil laughed as their boyfriend attempted to save the pizza. “Why didn’t you set a timer?”

“Well EXCUSE ME for being so utterly distracted by my beautiful partners!”

Virgil laughed, until they felt a hand cupping their cheek. They turned to face Janus, who gave them a fond smile. “He’s right, you know.” He slowly began to trace Virgil’s cheekbone with his thumb. “You are quite beautiful, with and without the winged eyeliner.”

Virgil snorted. “Says you. You and Roman are always beautiful.”

“And the two of you have beauty that rivals the divine!” Roman yelled, coming back with a plate of misshapen pizza slices. “A small portion was charred, so I had to cut it out before I could cut the slices, but it’s still good!” Roman quickly put the plate down before running back to the kitchen. “I’m gonna go get some drink, go ahead and start without me. Bon Appétit!”

Virgil cautiously grabbed a slice, and watched as Janus did the same. They quickly took a bite and watched as Janus took a bite so small that they wouldn’t have known it was there unless they saw Janus take the bite. They snorted, and explained when they saw Janus’ curious stare. “That’s the first time I’ve seen you eat without silverware, and you ate that the exact way I thought you would.”

Janus gave Virgil a small smile. “Well, I typically don’t eat finger-food, so I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“Take what as a compliment?” Janus and Virgil turned to see Roman coming back with three cans of soda.

“Virgil had found my eating habits amusing.” Janus set snootily, but the amusement in his eyes was unmistakable.

“Eating habits?” Roman asked as he grabbed two slices of pizza.

“Yeah, he always takes the world’s smallest bites, no matter what he’s… eating.” Virgil was now staring at Roman, who had taken a bite of his newly made pizza-sandwhich, with a cheesy inside and a crust-coated outside.

Roman noticed that he was being stared at and became confused. “Yes?”

Virgil continued to stare at the pizzas. “...You know how some people have things that could make or break a relationship?” They gestured to the pizza. “Thi-this is it.”

Roman snorted. “My Knight in Shining Armor, are you seriously willing to abandon me over my pizza eating habits?”

Janus gave Virgil a bewildered look. “And haven’t you seen Remus eat pizza? He eats it the exact same way.”

Virgil huffed. “Well I’ve learned from personal experience to not look anywhere in Remus’ general direction while he’s eating.”

Roman laughed, leaning over Janus’ lap to cup Virgil’s cheek with his hand. “You still love me though, right?”

Virgil pretended to think about it for a moment. “Hmm, I don’t know… I think I need a little persuasion.”

Roman chuckled, and soon Virgil’s personal space was filled with nothing but Roman. His mouth on Virgil’s, one hand in their hair, the other rubbing small circles into their collarbone-

“Ahem.” Virgil and Roman parted to look at Janus, who appeared more flustered than annoyed. Virgil could sympathize, having sat between Roman and Janus during a make-out scene before.

Roman smirked. “Aw, are you jealous, Love?” He looked Virgil in the eye and they nodded before they both leaned over to press a kiss to the corners of Janus’ mouth. They continued to kiss their respective halves of Janus’ face until it was redder than a tomato. Virgil pulled back and matched Virgil’s smirk as they watched their blushing boyfriend attempt to form words.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

“...There! Now we just have to let it set for 20 minutes.”

Virgil groaned as they resisted the urge to touch the face mask. “How can you do this every night? I’m already wanting to scratch my nose.”

Janus smirked. “Practice, and the desire to have a good self-care routine.” He glanced down to Virgil’s hands. “Your nails are drying nicely.”

Virgil glanced down at their nails, the various black and purple patterns complimenting each other nicely. “Yeah, they are. I think they’re dry too.”

“Well then, would you like a distraction from wanting to touch your face?” Virgil turned to look at Roman, who was plugging in a speaker. They watched as Roman connected his phone to the speaker, and a soft tune floated through the air. It took Virgil a moment to recognize the tune.

Virgil snorted. “Sleeping Beauty? Seriously, Princey?”

Roman gasped in mock offense. “Hey, it’s a lovely song!” He held out his hand. “Now, care to dance?”

Virgil sighed before grabbing Roman’s hand, allowing him to pull them up into a standing position. Roman immediately shifted to a leading position, and Virgil let themself be guided through the dance. Dancing with Roman felt like walking on clouds, every step of uncertainty matched by Roman’s confident movements.

After around a minute of dancing, Roman spun Virgil away. Virgil moved with the motion, expecting to be pulled back into Roman’s embrace. They let out a small squeak when instead they were gently tugged into Janus’ hold. Dancing with Janus felt like they were a snake and Janus the snakecharmer, Virgil instinctively yet shakily following every move in tandem with Janus.

Janus eventually spun Virgil towards the couch in a loose hold, and Virgil let themselves spin across the room and land on the couch. They watched as Roman quickly took Virgil’s spot, following Janus’ lead. It was exhilarating to watch Roman and Janus dance. Every movement was filled to the brim with passion. You could tell with every heartfelt look and gentle touch how much they truly loved each other. And every second of watching reminded Virgil of how much they loved their partners with all of their heart.

Roman and Janus both reached out towards Virgil, their other hands locked together. Virgil smiled at the loves of their life before placing their hands in theirs, letting themself be pulled back into the music.

#sanders sides fic #anaroceit #qpr intrulogicality #nonbinary virgil #genderfluid roman #virgil sanders #roman sanders #Janus Sanders #remus sanders

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cotncandyboifics · 4 years ago

Text

1989 [High School AU]: Chapter 4

AO3 Link

Masterpost

Chapter 1 ~ Chapter 2 ~ Chapter 3 ~ Chapter 5 ~ Chapter 6 ~ Chapter 7 ~ Chapter 8 ~ Chapter 9 ~

Pairings: slight Logince, eventual Prinxiety & Logicality

Word count: 1,910

Story summary: Roman Prince is your stereotypical Jock, with everyone swooning after him. Every day a crowd of people follow him around, only to disperse at his personal whim. In reality, he's lucky to have such good acting skills that help him cover up the disdain he has for his life. He only wishes he could use his skills properly.

Patton Whitelock's always there to lend a helping hand, no matter who you are. If you need a favor or just need someone to talk to, go to him. In reality, he's been taught from a young age that kindness should be held above all else. No one suspects that he took it the wrong way.

Logan Montgomery is the smartest boy in the Senior class. He's stern, and most people are too intimidated to speak to him. In reality, he despises most all of his fellow students. He sticks to his studies and doesn't stray, for fear of being stuck in his father's shadow his whole life.

Virgil Black is the most emo kid in school, let alone 12th grade; everyone knows to leave him be. In reality, he's very fortunate. He has two parents who love him dearly. But everything beyond his life, everything within his mind, is utter chaos and turmoil.

what will happen when they're assigned a biology project together?

General CW: food, swearing, implied s-lf h-rm, non-graphic descriptions of s-lf h-rm scars, graphic and non-graphic descriptions of anxiety attacks and panic attacks, drug abuse, minor character intoxicated on heroin, non-graphic drug overdose description, sickness/description of sickness, blood, non-graphic descriptions of needles, (will be added to as I write more)

Chapter CW: <3rd person> graphic description of a panic attack, (let me know if i missed anything please!)

Author notes: <none>

...

Where would he have gone? In the backyard? No, there's too much space out there, and it's too bright. Maybe- of course! Patton raced down the hall to the bathroom door, which was shut. He nearly started knocking, but remembering how easily startled Virgil could get when he was having an attack, he decided to just calmly say into the closed door;

"Virgil, it's Patton. Can I come in?" His voice came out very buttery and smooth, calm as he could get it to be. he heard a muffled sob from inside, and his heart went to his throat. But he knew he had to stay calm, for Virgil's sake.

As slowly, gently, and quietly as possible, he opened the door and stepped inside. It was dark, the only light coming from a small hazy window near the ceiling above the shower. He could barely make out Virgil's figure; he was curled into a ball on his side, crying into his knees, lying in the bathtub. From what Patton could see, the way his hair was sticking to his forehead implied he had been sweating, and the sleeves of his sweater were wet and crumpled, like he'd been chewing on them.

Patton slowly walked over, trying not to upset Virgil more. He slowly and gently clambered into the Bathtub, and sat cross-legged with Virgil in front of him. Remember everything you read about. Pressure is good, it gives a sense of security on an instinctual level. Don't take his hoodie off of him. He slowly reached down and lightly touched Virgil on the shoulder. When he didn't react, Patton gently scooped him up and held him in his lap, securing his arms around Virgil's shaking form as he cradled him. Although Virgil was taller than Patton, Patton had a sturdier build compared to Virgil's thinness. He started rocking Virgil very slowly, and did the first thing that came to mind.

"Virgil, it will be okay. I'm here. I'm going to breathe, okay? Try and feel me breathing, and when you can, try and copy it." Once again, his voice was soft and caring, nearly a whisper. Patton began breathing slowly and steadily, in, and out. in, and out. After what seemed like a long while, Virgil had stopped shaking, and Patton could tell he was trying to copy his breathing. It took him a few tries - his diaphragm kept spasming and making him sob more - but the tears had mostly stopped.

Soon, Virgil was breathing along with Patton - still a bit shakily, but they were definitely getting somewhere. Once Virgil's attack passed, he felt exhausted. He relaxed more into Patton, almost falling asleep.

"Virgil, I know you're tired, but we can't sleep here. Want me to call your parents so they can come pick you up?" Patton said, leaning down to try and come eye to eye with Virgil, who seemed content laying there, his head on Patton's left collar bone.

"Mmmm," Virgil started, rubbing his eyes. "No, that's alright. I'm supposed to take the bus today anyway."

"But-"

"Shhh, it's okay. I'll stay here for a while longer, and then get going, so I'll have time to get my bearings." Virgil stood, getting out of the bathtub, and then helping Patton up and out. As soon as he was out, Virgil pulled Patton into a hug - not a hard one, but a heartfelt gentle one. The best kind. "Thank you so much. I don't know how I would've made it through that one without you. Are you alright?" Virgil pulled away at the last part, holding Patton's shoulders and looking into his eyes. Patton had never seen this side of Virgil, so excessively caring. "I know you've never had to deal with me, or anyone, having an attack, but for the record, I think you handled it amazingly." Virgil continued, pulling Patton back into the hug.

Patton hugged back then, burying his face in Virgil's shoulder. "I'm just glad you're okay."

They stayed like that for a while, just happy in their moment.

...

When Patton and Virgil returned to Roman's room, Logan was just leaving.

"Hey, Lo! Are you out of here?" Patton said, still cheery as ever.

"Hello, Patton. Yes, my parents have arrived. I must be going now. I will see you tomorrow in class. Goodbye, Roman, Virgil," Logan nodded to them all, and then stepped past the newcomers to exit. Just then, Patton's phone buzzed, and a text came through that Virgil and Roman remained oblivious to; Patton scarcely read it, but knew that if it was from his brother, he'd best be getting home.

"Uh, w-wait up Lo! I'm headed out too!" Patton said, hurriedly grabbing his pastel blue backpack and rushing out, quietly saying goodbye to Virgil.

Patton caught up with Logan at the end of the hallway, a few feet before the door.

"Hello Patton. Are your parents here too?" Logan said, opening the door and holding it open for his curly-haired companion.

"Uh, no, but I'd best be getting home. I take the bus. My parents... don't have a car. They, uh, they care for environmental safety and stuff." Patton said, trying not to make his lie too obvious.

"Oh, I see." Logan's hand went to his chin, as if he was considering something. "Well, if you wish, I can ask my parents if they'll give you a ride home. I know the bus can be uncomfortable."

"Oh! umm..." Patton really wanted to say yes, but he knew that if his brother saw him come in from someone else's car, he'd be furious. "I'd love to, really, but I can't. Thank you so much anyways though! I'll see you tomorrow." Patton said, a toothy smile appearing as he waved to Logan. Then, before Logan could press further, Patton skipped quickly down Roman's driveway, down the sidewalk, and out of sight.

Logan just shrugged it off, and got in his parent's car.

...

Virgil and Roman were fixed in an awkward silence. Virgil was slouching against the wall near Roman's door, and Roman was laying back on his bed.

"Where were you?" Roman asked eventually.

"In the bathroom. I'd been holding it for a while, if you must know." Virgil lied, trying to keep Roman from asking again.

"Yuck! TMI, Surly Temple!" Roman said, throwing one of his pillows in Virgil's general direction, unsuccessful in hitting him; the pillow landed at Virgil's feet.

"Man, for a jock, your aim is shit," Virgil said, chucking the pillow back and hitting Roman square in the face.

"Ugh!" Roman exclaimed, shoving the pillow off him. Virgil walked over and plopped onto the bed, being sure to avoid eye contact. "Well hello there, my Chemically Imbalanced Romance," Roman teased, leaning closer to Virgil.

He just scoffed at him for the hundredth time that day, and threw the pillow at his face again. "Yeah, in your dreams, Prince Underarms-Stink."

Roman didn't react that time; he simply put the pillow back and watched as Virgil yawned and stretched out his arms. He turned away before the pink glaze on his cheeks could be spotted by Virgil. He pulled out his phone and plugged in his earbuds, putting one in his ear and offering the other to Virgil.

Virgil thought about protesting, but he was too tired to really care that much. he just sighed. "Oh, why the hell not." He took the earbud and put it in his ear, laying back and snuggling into Roman's pillows.

Roman clicked shuffle on his Taylor Swift playlist, and immediately regretted sharing an earbud. of all the songs to play!

There I was again tonight forcing laughter, faking smiles

Same old tired, lonely place

Walls of insincerity

Shifting eyes and vacancy vanished when I saw your face

All I can say is it was enchanting to meet you

Virgil felt a blush rise to his cheeks as the song continued, shifting his gaze even further from Roman.

Your eyes whispered "Have we met?"

Across the room, your silhouette starts to make it's way to me

The playful conversation starts

Counter all your quick remarks, like passing notes in secrecy

And it was enchanting to meet you

All I can say is I was enchanted to meet you

Roman watched Virgil, both of their cheeks darkening. Eventually, Roman looked away, not wanting to be creepy.

This night is sparkling, don't you let it go

I'm wonder struck, blushing all the way home

I'll spend forever wondering if you knew

I was enchanted to meet you

The lingering question kept me up

Two a.m., who do you love?

I wonder till I'm wide awake

Virgil risked a glance at Roman, who seemed to be tracing his ceiling fan with his eyes. He probably isn't even effected by this, Virgil thought. Wait a minute, why am I even effected? Virgil looked away again, trying to stifle his feelings.

Now I'm pacing back and forth, wishing you were at my door

I'd open up and you would say,

Hey i t was, enchanting to meet you

All I know is I was, enchanted to meet you...

This night is sparkling, don't you let it go

I'm wonder struck, blushing all the way home

I'll spend forever wondering if you knew...

This night is flawless, don't you let it go

I'm wonder struck, dancing around all alone

I'll spend forever wondering if you knew

I was enchanted to meet you.

When Virgil looked back at Roman again, Roman was looking at him. Roman immediately looked away, praying Virgil didn't see. But he knew he did, that for that split second that their eyes met. Virgil could see the blush on Roman's cheeks now. When Virgil didn't look away, Roman looked back.

This is me praying that this was the very first page

Not where the story line ends

My thoughts will echo your name, until I see you again

These are the words I held back, as I was leaving too soon

I was enchanted to meet you

Roman looked away first. I can't be doing this, I literally just asked someone else out. This is stupid.

Please don't be in love with someone else

Please don't have somebody waiting on you

Please don't be in love with someone else

Please don't have somebody waiting on you

Virgil had looked down as well, but glanced back, seeing Roman mouthing the words slightly. Virgil only blushed harder and covered his face with his hands, wondering how it could possibly be healthy for his heart to be beating this fast.

This night is sparkling, don't you let it go

I'm wonder struck, blushing all the way home

I'll spend forever wondering if you knew

This night is flawless, don't you let it go

I'm wonder struck, dancing around all alone

I'll spend forever wondering if you knew

I was enchanted to meet you

Please don't be in love with someone else

Please don't have somebody waiting on you

As the song ended, Virgil picked up his phone and pretended to read a text from his mom. "Uh, my mom says I best be getting home," He said shortly, taking the earbud out and standing, grabbing his bag. Roman sat up, wanting... well, he didn't really know what he wanted. He said the first thing that came to mind.

"Um, do you want a ride? I can drive you if-"

"No, that's alright." Virgil considered elaborating, but couldn't think of a good reason for his denial. He just had to get out of there, away from Roman, or he didn't know what would happen. "Uh, I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Ye-yeah, sure thing," Roman said, scratching the back of his neck. Virgil left with scarcely a sound, and walked hastily toward the bus stop.

On his walk, he found the song they'd been listening to, and added it to his library.

#patton sanders #ts patton #roman sanders #ts roman #logan sanders #ts logan #virgil sanders #ts virgil #thomas sanders #sanders sides #sanders sides fanfiction #slow burn #high school au #prinxiety #logicality #roman x virgil #patton x logan

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way2gowillow · 3 years ago

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HELLO WILLOW! IM BAAACCCKKKKK

Requestt:

(( 1st off, apologizing for my horrible art I sent, maybe I can make a better one, cuz oh God it's bad))

And 2nd: did ya miss me 🥰🥰 its been like 2 days 🥰🥰 anyways. I know I've already done 2 requests... so uh... sorry abt that... but I have another idea [of course I do]

Anyways, I was thinking this request with either Izuku or Eri, but I am DESPERATE for more Eri content, cuz I cabt find much eri stuff people write. So probably eri.

Anyways, so the request would be nothing extreme. No angst, no sickfic. Just pretty much pure fluff, hugs and fluff.

So personally, I find that sometimes, epically with PTSD myself, (I'm pretty positive it's Canon eri has ptsd too I would definitely assume) that I can have really hard days, just with my emotions, no flashbacks, no panic attacks, nothing triggering anything, just sometimes I can wake up and know that I'm a bit imbalanced chemically. It can make it difficult to do many things. And not only that I find myself quite emotional. Breaking down often ect. So I was wondering maybe a Dadzawa and eri fic, where I guess nothing really bad happens but maybe a bunch of stuff gets in her way, and she just gets more scared and set off easier, causing her to may break down. So like.. eri has a bad day, or just is really sad, and aizawa is trying to help, and all eri wants is a hug, but she's too afraid to ask herself and yeah,,, I'm so bad at requests sorry. Hopefully you've understood what I've been saying (???)

So in short: eri has a bad day, and starts crying a lot and dadzawa has to help her, but maybe he's not sure how to help her exactly.

You don't have to do it ofc. It's just a uh idea for a story

Sorry again for bothering you

Very good prompt idea! I can definitely do that. I have 3 other requests in line, (that I know I've been working so sluggishly on.) But I love your idea, and will definitely add it to the list.

#i can write aizawa being so sweet to eri #and eri being super shy??#a great combo #asks #request

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jaskiersbeloved · 4 years ago

Text

the road to the Neverland

Summary: Roman hasn't felt like himself for a long moment. He wants to just... Give up.

Author's note: Angsty. Really, really angsty, I am sorry for that

Tag list: @get-lost-in-a-dryer, @viva-la-pluto, @thousand-star15, @coconut-cluster

READ ON AO3

The first time that it happened he still had a sliver of hope left in him. So when a spoon clattered on the floor he just thought, he was just his usual clumsy self and ignored the flickering of his hand disappearing and then appearing a second later.

But then the video happened. And Roman started to loose faith.

That's why the second time had been hard to ignore.

He was chatting with Virgil and Logan (as much as one can call it chatting, with Logan sometimes just humming an affirmative to show that he was listening). He had turned around to take the bowl out of the cupboard when suddenly his whole hand disappeared.

The bowl crashed into little pieces on the floor, startling all of the three sides present in the kitchen.

"Damnit" muttered Roman, quickly getting on his knees to pick up the pieces.

He looked at his hand that has reappeared again. He would have thought "what the hell" if he didn't know what was happening. But he did.

All of them knew, honestly.

He pressed his lips and risked a quick glance to the other sides, checking if they had noticed anything. But no. Logan just shook his head, muttering how inappropriate it was to pick sharp things with bare hands. At that Roman foreced himself to chuckle, knowing deep down that he wouldn't care if he had slit his hand open with it.

It's not like it mattered anyway.

He heard Virgil commenting,

"Well, seems like you should go to sleep. With you being so clumsy, you could do more damage"

Damage. Just like he has damaged Thomas?

He shook his head and plastered a smile on his face, turning fully back to the others.

"If you only say so, My Chemically Imbalanced Romance" he said, throwing the pieces to the trash. "I guess that is my cue to go to the lands of dreams then" he said, still smiling.

Logan nodded but Virgil just... Stared at him for a second, making Roman tense.

Has he slipped somehow? Has Virgil noticed that...

But after a moment the anxious side just chuckled.

"Yeah. You gotta be tired if you agree with me just like that, Princey."

Bless him and his still relatively good acting.

Throwing a quick "goodnight" he almost run to his room.

Once inside he allowed himself to breathe. He slid down the door and sat on the floor. He lifted his hand and stared at it intensively.

Deep inside himself, he knew that this moment simply had to come at some point. With the thoughts he has been having during nights, it was almost inevitable.

They discovered it after Virgil decided to duck out.

When a side started to loose faith in its purpose, it would start to slowly disappear. Logan thought it was gradual, while Pat... while Patton thought it could be more influenced by the feeling of hatred and how strong it was.

Truth be told, Virgil didn't really want to talk about it, and, well, nobody could blame him. But from what they have gathered, a side would flicker, appear and disappear in just seconds, the only thing keeping them inside would be Thomas' mind basically ordering them to stay so Thomas wouldn't get actually insane.

Finally the side would got so tired of it, or at least that what Virgil had said, they they'd just... Duck out. Still existing in the mind but simply unreachable.

Like a kid taken to the Neverland by Peter Pan. Going willingly, to escape reality to a supposedly better place.

Well, Roman only started getting this and he was tired already. But honestly, when was the last time that he hasn't felt tired?

He hung his head, feeling the unwanted tears prickling in his eyes.

He honestly couldn't tell. It has been with him, this utter tiredness and the feeling of being useless, for a long time now.

It started with the little things, honestly. Things that he has brushed away, like the constant insults that he thought of as harmless quirps form the other sides, the musical but then...

Then the court happened. And Roman felt lost.

He honestly really tried to make a good choice back then. He tired to be the good judge. Tired to listen to the both of the sides. Tried to cover how the role, that has been placed on him, actually freaking terrified him by flirting, laughing, making stupid jokes...

Stupid, stupid, stupid, he thought, gripping his hair.

They told him how bad it was to side with Janus. So he has chosen selflessness.

But he wasn't happy with that. Not even a little bit.

He wasn't sure if anyone actually thought about what that has actually cost him. He sacrificed his dreams, Thomas' dreams for a selfless act. And the act didn't even feel good.

Yet the others couldn't know about it. So he did what he knew best.

Acted it up.

Tears started to fall from his face. Frustrated he brushed them off with his sleeve, maybe a little too forcefully.

Then his whole arm disappeared and Roman felt something ugly cleanch inside of him.

Seems like it will be the fast way for him, then. Maybe he passed the second star just a few videos ago and now he was going straight to the morning?

He sighed. The thought of the upcoming should scare him, but he felt... Numb to it. And maybe thinking about it as going to Neverland made him feel safer?

He couldn't tell.

Roman laid his head on the door, returning to his thoughts.

After that his dear, sweet brother decided to finally show up himself. Granted, Roman haven't seen the whole thing, because he has been unconscious for the better part of the whole ordeal, but he knew Remus. He knew that his sudden appearance didn't mean anything good.

And would you look at that, he was right. It had made Virgil even more anxious than he already was. It had also made Roman wonder. Wonder what would it be like if their roles were switched.

But he pushed it back then, trying to focus on helping Virgil, to reassure him that Thomas didn't hate him.

Roman scoffed at the memory of this.

What a damn hypocrite he is, truly. Especially after the last video.

The tears started to flow without any care.

Now it was actually good to trust Deciet. Patton chose the snake's judgement against his own, even though he had earlier said that listening to Janus was bad. But well, turns out that Patton could be wrong. And if Patton is wrong, whose to say that Roman isn't bad?

His breathing quickened, as he dug the heels of his palms onto his eyes, sobbing.

Whose to say that? Maybe Remus could take the wheel. Act as him for a while for the others to get used to it. And they would, he was so sure of that. Maybe they even wouldn't notice the difference. All in all Remus was still a good a actor.

A tiny bit of him hoped they would, though. That they would caught in right away. But right now he wasn't so sure of that.

Around him, his room started to gradually grow darker and darker.

Roman lifted his head, staring at it.

He has created it, so it would make sense that it would also react to his mood change. At least he thought that that's the reason why the gold and red from the walls started to morph to pitch black. The fairy lights attached to them stayed though.

Maybe it was just Roman's subconscious still gripping tightly to the concept of the second star on the right.

Next thing to disappear was his desk. And with it all of the sheets with unfinished ideas, vague plots, themes, designes imprinted on them.

Normally it would make Roman frustrated, maybe even sad or angry that they were no longer there. That all of his hard work just disappeared into thin air. But in the state he was now, he just shrugged. They weren't good nor needed anyways, so who would care? He certainly would not.

Besides when Remus takes over, it wouldn't matter anyway.

As he slowly stood up, suddenly he felt the energy rip off him and his whole body flickered. He stumbled backwards. Pressed his lips.

Well, it seems like my time is running out, he thought to himself. Now it's just straight to the morning.

"Goodbye then" he whispered into the darkness that surrounded him.

He stumbled to his bed and heavily fell on it.

The soft duvets felt scratchy. His prince outfit felt uncomfortable.

With the last of his strength he managed to shrug the jacket of him. He was about to toss it on the floor, when his hand cought the red sash.

He unclipped it from the jacket and ran a finger through the soft satin. At least that still felt right. Smooth. Almost comforting.

In the back of his mind a quote appeared.

“Never say goodbye because goodbye means going away and going away means forgetting.”

He sighed, laying down. He felt himself flicker again, but interestingly enough, the sash still stayed in his hand.

Roman shook his head.

They would forget though. He was so sure of it, that it would actually hurt, if he hadn't felt so numb.

He curled in the bed, clutching to the sash for dear life. Maybe it will become his fairy dust.

He closed his eyes, letting the darkness fall upon him.

For a split second he thought he has heard a knock on his door, but brushed it off. Must have misheard it.

They will manage without him. They will.

Something's wrong, Virgil thought, as Roman left the kitchen. Something's very, very wrong.

He glanced at Logan to see if he has noticed anything, but the side just sipped his tea. Virgil pressed his lips then, feeling the sudden rush of anxiety in him.

Music. He needed music.

He quickly went to his room and put headphones on his head. Without looking he chose a random song and laid on his bed, with hands behind his head.

Roman has been acted... Off lately. Sure, he would still show up when needed, say something with his booming voice, but... He hasn't sung even once. He hasn't smiled once. Or... He hasn't smiled for real once.

Not since the last video.

Virgil run a hand down his face, thinking. He shook his head.

No, not the last video. It was just when things has gotten so bad that he started to actually notice this change. But, if he were to be honest, Roman has been acting weird even before that.

The court. The appearance of Duke. Even the Crofters musical. Am I on the Right Path...

Come to think of it, Roman has been showing so many times he was not okay and they... They all just brushed it off.

Virgil winced inwardly. But then a sudden thought pierced through him, making his blood run cold.

If Roman has been feeling this bad, then maybe... Maybe...

He thought back to the broken bowl that was now in the trash.

He couldn't tell for certain, but Roman's hand could have flickered.

He sat up so abruptly that his headphones has fallen from his head. He managed to hear only the last bit of the song.

Neverland is home to lost boys like me and lost boys like me are free.

He needed to check on him. Right now.

He was halfway out of the door, when he stopped.

What exactly could he do if the thing was indeed happening? He wasn't good at all of the comforting stuff!

But he was also the only person who didn't make Roman feel uncomfortable. Patton was out of question. Logan was even worse than he at this kind of stuff.

He sighed and he went to Roman's door, with every step closer to it, feeling a bad feeling grow inside him. He raised his hand and knocked once, softly.

No answer.

He breathed through the nose. He was about to check if the door were locked, when he heard a voice behind him.

"Virgil?"

He turned on his heel. Logan was standing a few paces away from him. Seeing as he has caught the side's attention, he pushed his glasses futher up on his nose and said.

"It seems like our presence is required in the common room."

Virgil raised his eyebrows, glancing pointedly at the door behind him.

"Shouldn't we take Roman with us, then?"

"Ah. I think it is best to leave him be for the time being. It is Patton who wants to talk", said Logan with a matter of fact tone.

Virgil pressed his lips. Yeah, if Patton was calling them, then Roman was better off in his room. But a part of him wanted to say a great fuck you to Patton and still check on Roman. But that would be unfair to Logan and...

"Fine" he said, going in Logan's direction. "Hope he makes it quick though."

Logan just shrugged in response.

Going down the hallway Virgil glanced one last time at the locked door.

He honestly hoped that the worst didn't happen. Because there's no chance in hell that they'll manage without Roman. They won't.

#roman sanders #roman angst #platonic prinxiety #prinxiety #virgil sanders #sanders sides #sanders side fic #sanders sides fic #sonia tries to write

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confusion-core · 4 years ago

Text

Story

Despite the title, this isn't a fictional story. This is a true account of my experience with self harm, because I've heard it can be therapeutic to write about it, plus I want somebody to hear this story, especially if it'll mean somebody else will be discouraged from doing it in the future. Trigger warning for references to mental illness, self harm, suicidal ideation, attempted suicide, maybe ED. If you don't wish to read about any of those things, please don't read this. If you know me in real life, please don't read this and just pretend you didn't see it, especially if you're a close friend, because I don't want anybody close to me knowing about these things. Also if anybody tries to reblog this with a joke or make light of it, they will immediately be blocked.

I'm gonna start from when I was very young, so that you have full context, and work my way up from there, because every part of this is important to understand the whole story.

3 years old - I hadn't yet said my first words (I was non verbal until I was 7) but I taken my first steps. This would be a cause for celebration, but honestly I wasn't really in the mood for celebrating. This next bit's kind of shaky because a lot of it is from 2nd hand accounts and I have trouble remembering from around this time, except for the days where I start remembering every detail of it. My mother was just starting to get the full effects of her thyroid problem, but she hadn't yet been diagnosed with it because she didn't trust the doctors apparently. Another thing she didn't trust was me and my one year older brother, and she thought we were out to get her. She'd spend hours alone in the living room crying and hiding from us, one of the few scenes I can regularly remember because I had/have a lot of dreams about how my dad would stand in front of the door, trying to convince us to not go in when all we wanted was to help her. I don't hold this against her, because she wasn't in her right mind at the time, but I do hold it against my father that he didn't send us to stay with somebody else for fear of somebody calling child protection services.

9 years old - My mother told me that I might have a thyroid problem like she and my uncle did, and I couldn't stop thinking about it because I knew that the one reason I didn't resent her was because she had no way of telling in that time with limited information, so if I didn't do my best to figure it out then I'd be doing the same to my kids, but I wouldn't have any excuses. I'd be letting them down, and that idea hurt me on a much deeper level than having been on the receiving end myself.

12 years old - My mother had forgotten about taking me to a doctor over time, and I never brought it up because I knew it'd lead to a conversation with her about how it affected me and I really didn't want to have that talk. Not then, not now, not ever. It's not that I thought she would be offended, but I knew it would break her heart to hear it from her own son. And so, at this point, I couldn't stop spiraling thinking about it, and every time I thought about it I'd get little flashes in my mind's eye of what I was there for, it lead to me laying in bed just shaking thinking of doing that to my children while knowing I could've done something about it and neglected to. One night, I just broke. I wanted to break something but I didn't have anything on hand, so I just picked up something sharp, maybe it was a razer I think, it might have just been a regular blade, and slashed it at my wrist. The first time didn't cut too deep, but after a moment I realised that the pain made everything else seem just a little less high-stakes. I did it again, and again, and again, the whole time still shaking and crying until I was a bloody, snotty mess. I did the same again the next day and the next after that etcetera for the next month or so, but everyday I'd cut just a little deeper. It did make me feel better, temporarily, but the cuts hurt like a bitch, I'd be whimpering from somebody laying their hand on my arm.

13 years old - A year later, I'd almost completely stopped when it came the time of year when I did it the first time, and I started feeling anxious and shaky all over again, and again I did it. At this point, I started feeling sick to my stomach at the thought of food, throwing up and starving myself for days at a time, and other times I wouldn't be able to stop eating. My mother found the scars, I told her it was a one time thing.

... then I did it again, the next year, and the year after that, and the year after that, and the year after that.

Around the 3 year milestone it stopped bringing me that sense of clarity, and just made me feel empty. Pain in general started making me itch for more, I'd fall over and suddenly all I'd want would be to bang my head one more time. I still feel that, and I recently found out that that's because you can become chemically addicted to pain, and I did. It was miserable, I started wishing that it would end. Last year, it almost did when I had my mouth full to bursting with painkillers, ready to swallow when when my mother's dog came into the kitchen. I panicked and spat them into the sink, and sat on the floor and cried. My dog comforted me, usually he's happy and energetic but he has amazing empathy and is seriously good at reading the room when it matters. People keep asking me why he suddenly became my favourite thing in the world overnight, and I just tell them he's cuter but in reality it's because I literally owe him my life. I would actually be dead if it weren't for him, and I love him for that, and the fact that he knew just how to help.

16 years old - New Year's Day, I was helping my family set up for dinner. Everything started looking kind of blue for some reason, I was getting tunnel vision and suddenly I felt dizzy, as if I were drunk. I wanted to mention this but my mother was saying something and I didn't want to interrupt, even though I couldn't understand a word she was saying, and being a pushover became my downfall. My vision went dark, but I could tell I was still standing, and I could see a bunch of shapes and lines in white in the darkness, and what appeared to be the outline of a person facing away from me. I couldn't see anywhere I was going, and I just stumbled blindly. After about 5 seconds, I felt something on the back of my knee and toppled, and as I hit the floor my vision suddenly came back. I was splayed out on the floor, my sister was looking at me and my mother and panicking, asking me what was going on, and I just kept telling her I didn't know. She said she was going to take me to a doctor, but never got round to it, and after a while I realised that it was a hallucination, since I still get them sometimes on much lower levels like hearing slide whistles and circus music. I digress, though, the night of that New Year's, I was still shaken by what happened and when I went to grab a glass in my bedroom I didn't close my hand and it smashed against the floor. I was still shaken, and in kind of a daze, and I took one of the shards and dragged it straight across my arm. Then several more times.

Now - it's been almost half a year since I last did it, and yeah, I still have nightmares about being an infant with a chemically imbalanced mother, and I'm still not sure if I have a thyroid problem or not, and I can't look at shadows without being reminded of New Year's Eve, but this is all shit I could've worked out in therapy. Now, I turn into a sniveling shaking mess acting like a scolded puppy whenever I hear a glass break, I can't listen to my favourite song because I listened to it while doing the deed once, and I literally have a chemical addiction to pain. None of the latter would've been true if I hadn't done it that one very first time, so to anybody who wants to "try it out" or "see what it's like", please, I beg of you, don't do it. It's not worth the youth it'll take away from you.

#tw sh #cw sh #tw ed #cw ed #tw mental illness #cw mental illness #tw suicide

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badbitchwhomeditates · 4 years ago

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Who the fuck is this bitch?!

Read that again.

The answer is complex, not simple, which is what complex means you dumb fuck ( beep language kiddo). Ok, lets try that again...

Bad Bitch Who Meditates, a 23 year old singer with dreams bigger than the world itself, which is both a good and a bad thing, we will get to the importance of duality later. Either way she´s been struck by lightning and pushed into a corner loads of times in an industry where you have to fight to be heard and seen through the smallest of cracks. And yes I might also speak about myself in third person a lot, simply because I'm practicing being the main character from all perspectives, telling my story but also making everyday feel like an adventurous movie ( therefore the narrator vibes help).

Complaining, complaning, victim mindset bla bla bla you might think, im not gonna bore you, you know that things can be quite shit and you’ve probably heard about the `struggling artist” and all of that before.

Lets spread some more negativity shall we ey?

Maybe not that either, im just welcoming you in to my brain and my stream of consciousness on the journey of becoming or remaining? we shall see.

Im not gonna be here being all fairy lights and glitter in my eyes either, I am tho some days, but lately I’ve been bad, not a bitch cause I would never, slightly a bitch towards myself and I haven’t really done my meditation, its like the second I put down ” bad bitch who meditates, thats my slogan” in a song, I was like, cool its in a tune now so I’ve done the work I can relax.

Nope, it doesn’t stop.

Consistency in self care, healthy habits and your mental diet, the way you speak to yourself, it doesn’t stop. And its fkn annoying sometimes, especially when your chemical imbalance is so imbalanced that you don’t wanna get out of bed. Ive probably dealed with anxiety and depression since my debut on X-factor, oh yeah shit sorry, I have a name too, Im Awa and I won X-factor Sweden at 15 years old, completely changed my life like a marriage, for better or for worse. In that marriage I found myself, lost myself and now im kind of finding myself again...

Ok this is the part below where you get to knoooow me or something...

I guess why I wanted to start blogging again is A) I need to hold myself accountable to remain consistent with my glow up, cause I can proudly say I’ve really done some amazing progress and inner work B) I need to continue doing that and find my healthy balance and not put too much pressure on myself, ya get me? C) maybe help take away the stigma regarding mental health, and I wanna focus on the solutions, thats my whole new life concept 10 % problems, 90 % solutions, like if we are discussing something thats the ratio. Cause how can we ever see a solution if we go slow dancing w the problem for ages?

I know it can feel fkn amazing and cozy, like when you’ve been in bed w someone thats clearly not good for your heartstrings but you stay there anyway because for right now it feels all warm and fuzzy.

Oh silly girl, I mean forgiveness, forgiving other people and forgiving myself that is def something we are going to have to discuss as well, its one of the things I’ve tried to commit to this year. Ive come to the conclusion that its harder forgiving yourself after being too nice, theres only so much space on the scale for resentment, but you go to bed with you all the time and you beat yourself up on why you allowed that to happen? (Did that make any sense??)

Again, another lesson, feedback that we can grow from. Mind management, one of my fav terms, mind over matter. Damn sure that can feel extremely provocative said in the wrong situation. Im gonna be honest on here, ill make an oath or whatever its called ( oh yeah im also Swedish so we will have communication problems here and there, but whatever, I call that acceptance) ill be honest, personal but not private cause I need to protect my energy.

I would declare myself a self care queen but babe writing this, I just had a massive argument w my friend, that made me sad ( oh im a cry baby too, thats even the title of my EP lol), I hate conflict but im really trying so hard to stand up for myself and understand that my feelings are valid too and that uncomfortable situations are growing pains for our souls. I had my first panic attack in ages because this year is just shit and things that I’ve worked on for so long just crumbled down in front of me and I just felt like I was again taking two steps forward and one step back but at least we are moving.

Im not all sad, I’ve rightfully so have had a few bad 72 hours I would say, I don’t like this time of the year that much. But I know why, because I've been slacking w my routines, the ones we´ve carefully selected through trial and error inna real life and w my therapist ( she's real too but you get what im sayin) , it's ok not to be ok either but we have to put some kind of time limit on it so we don't sink into that deep hole again, i don't wanna go back there and I know what keeps me with my head above water and sometimes even frkn flying. We wanna stay consistent w the flying, that feels good, that's a goal now ok? Cause I used to fall into that trap of the deep hole until the pain of the known got far greater than the fear of the unknown.

Im happy we are here today, because as I said 10/90, nothing last forever, good or bad, which is comforting. Things will get better and we hold so much more power in our minds and souls than we realize that ultimately will mirror how we experience life. So im going to be on here, at least once a week, my therapist tells me not to set up crazy goals that I know I might not do because then it will make me feel shit etc so once a week feels reasonable.

Im open to suggestions about what we can chat about, ill share my 10/90, I want my clever friends to maybe drop a quote or blog here and there, Im good on camera, like vlogs or some shit. I probably wont bring you around all the time cause I don’t have the technological brain cells for that to be very honest with you. Maybe ill just come up with cute formats to the camera, thats a word you are going to hear a lot, ”format”, I have a concierge business w my friend Amy on the side of my music career called ” Pure Intuition”, basically we create events, formats and campaigns for brands and make them come true with the right profile etc and we create FORMATS, but if you missed it or if I was unclear Im a super cool singer signed to Columbia UK which was my childhood dream, so we are going to make Columbia our BITCH in 2021 hihi <3 <3. I studied economic entrepreneurship in college and im very business savvy, I love creating formats lol. Im slowly but surely building my fempire. What else, boys, I like boys, men, cute ” god spent some extra time on you”- looking boys, I mean men. I guess we will touch on that in the most anonymous manner, maybe ill just share some past flings cause you know, they’re in the past, passé. So yeah who the fuck is this bitch? you will find out alongside me, myself and I

get ready for the ride

love and light,

badbitchwhomeditates

#badbitch #spiritual development #self improvement #selfcare #main character #music #singer #aestheitcs

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my-happy-little-bean · 4 years ago

Text

The Day The Sun Fell - Chapter 2

pairing: logan/patton words: 3834 story summary: “The story of Logan and Patton from the day they met, to the day the sun fell.

(aka the story of logan and patton told a bit out of order. also the apocalypse happened, which is weird huh?)

warnings for both chapters: swearing; fighting; sad, apocalyptic vibes in general; sickness; implied death(s)

a/n - hello! this is a repost of a semi-old fic of mine that is written in like a non-linear format, which is always super fun ~

i will be linking the previous chapter, the masterlist, and the link to the entire work on ao3 below if you’d like it :)

stay rad, u rad rats ✨

< previous chapter

[read on ao3]

[masterlist]

---

Patton couldn’t hear anything.

His ears were still ringing– he couldn’t even hear his own voice. And– God there’s bodies everywhere.

Adrenaline, Patton, he thought. He grabbed Logan, swinging his arm around his shoulder and pushing himself to make it back to Logan’s apartment.

So close… The ringing felt louder, if that was even possible. So close…

(He didn’t even know that he was the one who saved him that day.)

“W-Where…” Logan groaned before he could finish.

“We’re–” He huffed– ”going back to your place.”

“P-Patton...y-you don’t–”

“Shut up,” Patton gritted through his teeth as tears slid down his cheeks, “W-We’re going home, and– and there’s nothing you can say that’s going to change my mind, okay? So– to make this e-easier for us–” He huffed again– ” shut up .”

And Logan did.

(Because he loved him.)

---

“What do you mean you don’t know how to say it?” Virgil asked, leaning back on Logan’s couch. Logan shrugged, tossing Virgil a beer on his way back from the kitchen.

“I don’t know why I can’t,” Logan said, drinking from his third bottle tonight. “It– it’s illogical. ”

“Have you ever said it?” he asked. “To anyone? ”

Logan fell quiet. Virgil’s eyes widened.

“Oh–” He cracked open his beer bottle– ” God. ”

“Shut up,” Logan groaned, slumping down on the couch beside him. Virgil turned around to face him.

“Stacey Marron.”

“Nope.”

“Austin Tanner?”

“Nu-uh.”

“Elliot?”

“ Obviously not.”

“Tiffany Ray?”

“Two weeks only. Never got the chance.”

“ No one? ” Virgil asked, a little less teasingly than before. Logan shook his head wordlessly and took another sip. Virgil sighed.

“Have you told him why?”

A pause.

“No,” Logan said, “I haven’t.”

Virgil sighed.

“I feel like he deserves to know.”

“What do you know.” The beer made the words taste more bitter than intended. Virgil just stared at him.

“I know more than him, apparently,” Virgil simply said, “which I feel is saying something.”

“Then what am I going to say, huh Virge?” Logan shot up from the couch, stumbling to the window. “That I’ve never been in a long-term relationship before? That– that I’m just some– some serial fucker who sleeps with people– who breaks their hearts in half and then just leaves?”

“...when were sober, you have to change your Instagram bio to ‘serial fucker’.”

“What the fuck am I going to do,” Logan groaned, slamming his beer on the coffee table as he plopped himself on the ground. Virgil sighed, sliding off the couch and crawling beside Logan, who leaned on his shoulder.

“You’re just going to have to decide whether or not this is someone you’re going to change for,” Virgil said. Logan looked up at him, almost wearily.

“Change?” His voice sounded too small for his own good. Virgil shook his head, tapping his shoulder again so Logan could lean on it.

“No, not change,” he mused. “Wrong word. It’s…maybe the word's commit...?”

Virgil trailed off, before looking down at Logan. He sighed.

"Let's just make this easy then," he finally said. “Do you like him?”

“Of course I do.”

“Do you love him?”

A pause.

Logan couldn’t help but look at the framed picture of him and Patton on his TV stand. Their smiles were bright enough to fill the whole room, and they looked like they were in...

“I don’t know,” Logan said quietly.

“Logan, come on, you have to know somewhere deep down in your weird, robo-heart–”

“No,” Logan said again. He didn’t meet Virgil’s glance. “I don’t...I don’t think I know what that is .”

---

“Roman’s resting in your bathtub,” Patton announced, walking back to the living room. Logan was on the couch, with Virgil doing his best to attend to his leg.

“Is he– shit, Virge–” He hissed as Virgil tended his wound. Virgil rolled his eyes, nudging his head towards Patton. Logan sighed. “Is...is he comfortable in there?”

“Duh,” Patton said softly. He gave him a half-hearted smile. “It’s Roman . He’s comfortable anywhere.”

“How’s he doing?” Logan asked.

“I don’t know,” Patton admitted. “He wouldn’t tell me.”

“Serves him right for running into the scene of the crime,” Virgil mumbled, though there was an edge of worry in his voice.

“He was trying to help people,” Patton explained. “When he heard that we were there when it happened, he went straight here.”

A beat of silence.

“...It’s a fucking shit show out there.”

“Virgil! Language!”

“Sorry, sorry.”

“What did they say?” Logan asked. Patton sighed.

“There was another one,” he replied, sitting beside Logan on the couch. “I think it was in Japan. There might’ve been one somewhere in Europe too, but they’re investigating it.”

“Did they say what it was?”

Patton shrugged.

“A lot of people are saying a lot of things. People think it’s judgement day, whatever that means. The radio gave out halfway through the interview. I don't know how to fix it.”

“How edgy of them,” Virgil piped up, still focused on Logan’s wounds. "Judgement day."

Logan just nodded, falling quiet again.

“They say it’s not over,” Patton said, just soft enough for Logan to hear. “They said it was only the beginning.”

Logan said nothing.

---

Logan watched with a small smile as Patton walked into the living room with a bright smile and a bowl of popcorn. Roman threw some stray strands of tinsel into the air.

“Huzzah!” he exclaimed. “Food has arrived! We can finally start gift giving!”

“Can someone tell me who’s idea this was,” Virgil deadpanned.

“It was mine, My Chemically-Imbalanced Romance ,” Roman huffed. “You always have entertainment popcorn to watch the drama unfold.”

“What drama?” Logan mumbled.

“The drama when someone doesn’t like the other person’s present.” Roman glared at him as if it were obvious. Virgil rolled his eyes.

“Everyone’s going to like everyone’s gift.” Patton sat in front of the tree with the popcorn in his lap, cross-legged on the ground. Logan watched as Patton then reached over to the couch and pulled his blanket off of it, spilling a bit of popcorn as he did. He wrapped himself in its warm colours and glanced at Logan.

He gave him a warm smile. Logan felt something bubbling in his chest.

They exchanged gifts, laughing at every silly present Roman gave them. Virgil tried not to cry when Logan gave him a membership to the local museum; and Patton tried not to die when Roman gave him a membership to the gym.

“We can be workout buddies now!” Roman wiggled his eyebrows. “Build some stamina, you know?”

“Roman! ” Patton gasped as Logan did his best not to blush.

It eventually came time for Logan to exchange presents with Patton.

“Aw, Logan!” Patton pulled out the two concert tickets from the envelope. “Oh, these are fantastic! I’m so excited. And– awwww there’s a heart beside your name on the envelope!” He kissed Logan’s cheek. “I love you so much. This is so sweet.”

A beat of silence.

“Of course,” Logan finally said.

“How about you, Microsoft Nerd ,” Roman cut in. “Are you going to open Pat’s gift or what?”

“ Romannn,” Patton said with a small giggle, though he seemed just as excited. Logan looked at Virgil who just shrugged.

He took Patton’s gift—a small, square box; tied with a white ribbon—and held it in his hands. He then looked up at Patton, who gestured for him to open it.

Logan chuckled as he untied the ribbon and opened the box, and–

He froze.

“Do you like it?” Patton asked, almost as giddy as Roman was. “I had it made this morning. I thought about giving you something else, like maybe a bookstore gift card or something.” He scooted closer to Logan. “ Buuuut, I feel like because we’ve been dating for a while, like we’re almost at the one year mark– I just think we’re there, you know?”

Logan could feel Virgil staring at the key as well.

“I…”

Patton’s smile fell.

“Is...is that okay?”

Logan cleared his throat.

“Of course.” He hastily kissed Patton’s hand. “ Thank you. ”

He closed the box slowly, the key finally disappearing from his sight; and, in the corner of his eye, he saw Roman pop a piece of popcorn in his mouth.

---

“Patton?”

Patton turned around to see Roman, a bit paler than when he last saw him. He was stumbling towards him.

“Jesus, Roman,” Patton murmured, going to his side immediately to help him walk. “When did you wake up?”

“Just a bit ago,” he huffed. “I’m heading to the kitchen. Wanted a snack”

“Go sit on the couch,” Patton said firmly. Roman just shrugged and did as he was told.

“What do you want?” Patton said as he walked into the kitchen.

“Doesn’t matter.”

Patton sighed as he searched the kitchen.

“How long has Logan been gone now?” He heard Roman ask. Patton closed a cupboard quietly.

“Too long,” he mumbled. He grabbed a plate for the bread he found and went to sit beside Roman on the couch, offering the plate to him.

“He’s still looking for him, isn’t he?”

Patton just nodded.

“It was my dumb fault,” Roman muttered, staring at his plate. “I was the one who told him to get lost.”

“It hasn’t been easy for any of us,” Patton reassured. Roman averted his glance. “We’ve all been pretty...agitated. It’s hard to stay cooped up like this. And...well, we’re all responsible for our own actions nowadays. You know what Logan says; no use in blaming ourselves. It won’t fix anything.”

Roman said nothing, but was able to finish his bread. Patton took the plate from him when he was done and set it on the coffee table.

“You actually finished.” He smiled softly. “I’m proud of you.”

Roman let out a scratchy laugh and shook his head. “It’ll probably come back up tomorrow.”

Patton’s smile fell as he stared at the table.

“Hey.” Roman scooted a bit closer to Patton. “I...I need to tell you something.”

“Yeah?”

“I…” Roman sighed. “You have to promise not to get mad.”

Patton faced him, his leg beginning to bounce. “What’s up?”

“...I’m leaving.”

Patton’s heart dropped.

“Y-You’re...you’re what? ”

“Patton, this shouldn’t surprise you.” Patton was shocked at how calm Roman’s voice was. “Things are getting worse– everything is getting worse. Logan may be out there looking for Virgil but he’s looking for other things too. We are barely able to keep up our supply for three people and...well, you know I’ve been sick for a while.”

“That doesn’t mean that–”

“You said it yourself,” Roman said with a small smile. “We’re all responsible for our own actions.”

Patton fell quiet. They didn’t speak for what seemed like hours before Patton broke the silence.

“Where are you going to go?” he asked. Roman looked at him, almost surprised.

“You’re letting me?”

“You’re going to leave anyway, aren’t you?” His voice was cold. Roman looked down, almost ashamed.

“...I don’t know where I’m gonna end up,” Roman finally said, his voice quiet. “But I’m going to do the most I can to help someone with what I have left.”

Patton felt tears roll down his cheeks. Roman’s shoulders dropped. He looked like he was looking at a sick puppy.

“Oh, Patton,” he whispered, pulling Patton into a hug. Patton could feel his tears staining Roman’s shirt. “It’s going to be okay.”

“Y-You’re…” Patton sobbed into his chest. “You’re my best friend.”

Roman patted his head, chuckling. “I know. You’re mine too, padré.”

He coughed a bit, and pushed Patton back gently. Patton stared at him, as if he was talking to a ghost.

“I’ll be gone in the morning,” Roman said hoarsely. Patton numbly nodded.

“I won’t tell Logan.”

Roman frowned. “...Really?”

“He doesn’t need to know.”

Roman just sighed, stroking Patton’s hair gently.

"Are you happy?"

"You're an asshole." Patton was crying even more now.

“He loves you,” Roman murmured. “You know that, right?”

Patton said nothing, but he heard Roman’s last words before he even said it.

(He wouldn’t have stayed if he didn’t.)

---

“Hey, Lo.” Virgil’s voice buzzed from his phone on the counter. Logan hummed in response, busy making himself a sandwich before heading to work. “Do you still want to go over to my place tonight? ‘Doctor Who’ is on.”

“Ah, I can’t,” Logan said, taking the phone off speaker and slipping it between his ear and his shoulder. “I am making dinner with Patton tonight.”

“You mean the guy from the library?” “Yes.” Logan went over to the couch and grabbed his brown bag. “His name is Patton.”

“I know,” Virgil chuckled. “I’m just...surprised, s’all.”

“Surprised?” Logan echoed. He stopped in front of the mirror in his front entryway, adjusting his tie.

“I’m just surprised you’re settling down.”

Logan froze.

“You’re joking, right,” he deadpanned.

“Obviously.” Logan rolled his eyes.

“But seriously,” Virgil continued, “I’m happy for you. I really want to meet him.”

“I’m not settling down,” Logan blurted out, almost defensively.

A beat of silence.

“Don’t think about it too hard, Lo,” Virgil finally said. He laughed, but it sounded more nervous than anything. “It was just a dumb joke. Sorry.”

Logan sighed. “I’m sorry as well. I did not mean to sound so cross. I’m just–”

“Don’t worry,” Virgil cut in before he could finish. “I get it.”

Logan just nodded as he kneeled down to tie his shoes. He placed his phone beside him.

After a bit of silence, he heard Virgil ask, “Is he pretty?”

Logan paused, then picked up his phone and stood up. He smiled softly to himself.

“The prettiest,” he replied.

---

Patton coughed until he woke himself up, shooting up from his bed. He winced at how bright it already was outside, noticing the small outline of sweat he left on the pillow. He shuddered.

“Mmm…” He looked down to see Logan stir beside him. “Are...are you alright?”

“M’fine,” Patton mumbled. Logan sat up with a small sigh.

“Do you need to throw up?”

Patton hesitated. “Probably.”

Logan just nodded and Patton watched, a bit guilty, as he climbed out of bed and went to the bathroom to grab a trash bin.

Patton flopped back down onto the bed with a small groan. He tried to will his cough– and whatever else was threatening to come up– to stay down, buried in his chest.

“Sit up, please.” Patton turned his head and saw Logan going over to sit down beside him. He laid a trash can on the floor, closest to where Patton’s head was laying. “We don’t want you to choke on whatever comes out.”

Patton smiled half-heartedly, sitting up beside Logan. His leg was bouncing. He had been throwing up for the better part of a week now — and Logan had, unfortunately, seen him do it most times. He wasn’t quite sure what made him so insecure.

Logan offhandedly laid his hand on Patton’s forehead. He winced.

“You’re warm.” He pulled his hand back slowly. “Too warm.”

“I know,” Patton mumbled. Logan sighed.

“You know this means I’m going to have to go find some medicine, right?”

“ Logan, ” Patton whined.

“I’ll leave tomorrow at night.”

“Nighttime doesn’t even matter anymore, Logan,” Patton protested.

“I’ll be back before the morning comes, I promise.”

“It’s too dangerous to even leave the house.” Patton felt his throat get drier as his voice rose. “Logan, you could get hurt if you go, you know that risks–”

“I’m not going to just sit here,” Logan gritted out, “and just watch you die. ”

Patton froze.

He snuck a glance at Logan and noticed he was crying. Patton’s eyes widened.

“You can’t die, okay?” Logan wasn’t even looking at him. He was just staring ahead of him. There was a slight tremble in his hands. He pushed his palms against his knees, as if to keep them glued there.

“I’m not dying,” Patton muttered, but the words came out too dry for them to sound believable.

“You just can’t .” Logan talked as if Patton wasn’t even in the room. He suddenly let out a choked sob.

Patton watched wordlessly as Logan doubled over, burying his face in his hands as he began to cry. He felt like he stared at him for too long– longer than any normal person would.

And suddenly, the feeling to be sick, to cry, to do anything just...disappeared.

Patton leaned against Logan’s shoulder, just listening to his cries grow quieter. He closed his eyes and tried to imagine a world where he and Logan were married; celebrating their love under an arch of flowers, and under a sun that wasn’t dying.

---

“Hey Logan?”

Logan yawned, then rolled over onto his side to face Patton, who smiled sheepishly. He tucked his arm under his head to get a better, more comfortable look at him.

“Yeah?” he asked. Patton smiled.

“You’re really great, you know?”

Logan chuckled. “The drowsiness is hitting you now, hm?”

“No, seriously.” Patton leaned closer to him, mere inches from his face. Logan swore he felt Patton’s warm breath hit his nose. “I know I’ve only known you for a week now but...gosh, I just can’t help it. You’re...you’re just really great.”

Logan smiled.

(Three words sat in his throat)

“You’re really great too,” he whispered, gently laying his arm around Patton, who yawned and curled up into Logan’s bare chest. “ I’m glad I met you.”

---

Patton leaned against Logan, who helped him walk out of the car and towards the edge of the cliff. Just moving in this heat made him regret ever leaving the apartment, but he knew that he had to leave– go as far away from home as he could. He was lucky that Logan’s car still worked.

Patton shielded his eyes as he looked below at the city from the highest vantage point he knew of. The sun glared at him, as if calling him stupid for even trying.

He heard Logan sigh as he turned Patton around so that he was facing him.

(It was illogical– no, stupid to look anywhere else.)

Patton felt Logan wrap his arms around his waist and it was only then that Patton realized he was shaking and sobbing loudly in Logan’s embrace.

“Shhh,” Logan whispered softly. He pulled Patton closer to him. “It’s going to be okay.”

“I- I–”

“ It’s okay,” he said again.

Patton felt like laughing. Or throwing up. Or crying some more– he didn’t even know. It was so warm.

“I-I’m so scared. ”

Logan paused.

“I know,” he said quietly.

“What if one of us lives ?” Patton murmured, his sobs wracking his entire body. He doubled over into Logan’s chest, throwing his arms around Logan as if he was hanging onto the only lifeboat on deck.“W-What if one of us lives and– and you are dead and–”

“Patton…”

“I don’t want to be alone.” Patton clung onto him, his face buried in Logan’s chest. It was like that for a while before he felt Logan tilt his chin up to face him. Patton could see glimpses of tears rolling down Logan’s cheeks.

“You’re not going to be alone,” he said.

The winds roared louder now. Despite now being face-to-face with Logan, Patton was squeezing his eyes shut, shaking at the noise.

Patton tried to memorize the ba-bump, bump, bump of Logan’s heartbeat. He tried to focus on it, make it the last thing he remembered, tried to remember that he was his–

“ God, I-I hate this.” Patton sounded so broken. He hoped Logan wouldn't notice. “I wish–”

“ No, ” Logan said firmly. Patton opened his eyes and looked at him.

Logan moved his arms from Patton’s waist to his back, enveloping him into a tight hug.

It’s all going to be okay, he was with him.

“You didn’t need to wish for anything else,” Logan finally said. “Things went just as they were supposed to, you know?”

He buried his face in the crook of Patton’s neck. “ I’m so happy. ”

Patton froze. The words sounded so far away, yet there they were; so close.

And then, Patton laughed.

It was interspersed with coughs but he was laughing. And eventually, Logan was laughing too.

And there they were, laughing, as the sun grew closer.

At some point– Patton wasn't sure when– Logan pulled back slightly. Behind him, Patton could see a blinding flash of white.

(And that’s how he knew they were going to be okay.)

And then, Patton heard it.

“I love you.”

Patton’s heart skipped a beat.

Ba-bump...ba-bump…bump… … …

“Patton Morgan, I love you, I love you, I love you.”

It was the last thing Patton heard before the sun finally fell.

---

Logan finished shelving the last of the books in his cart. He stifled a yawn behind his fist as he made his way to the end of the aisle, about to turn the corner when–

“Ahhh!"

A man collided with the end of his cart, sending the books in his hand tumbling to the ground, as well as a slight jolt throughout Logan’s entire being. His eyes widened.

“I am terribly sorry,” Logan said, immediately kneeling down to pick up his fallen books. The man, to his surprise, laughed. The noise made Logan’s heart skip a beat.

“Not a problem!” He kneeled down as well to help Logan pick up the books.

They made eye contact for a split second.

Logan never saw eyes filled with so much warmth.

“My fault for wanting to book it before this place closes, ya know?” He laughed again, and Logan nervously laughed as well.

“I don’t understand,” Logan said, “but...it’s okay?”

The man gave him a small smile as they both stood up. Logan felt as if he was staring at him forever — so long that he felt like he needed to introduce himself.

“My name is Logan Fray.” He outstretched his hand. “And you are?”

“Patton Morgan!” He shook his hand with a wide smile. It was so bright, it nearly burned right through him.

They exchanged a small conversation; mostly about the book Patton was taking out, and the books Logan recommended he take out.

And after a few more seconds of staring at each other,

(God, why was he staring this much ?)

Patton shyly spoke up.

“I don’t usually do this,” he said, “but...um, would you like to maybe have coffee sometime? Maybe?"

Logan couldn’t help but smile.

“I’d enjoy that, actually.” He pulled out his phone, unlocked it, and handed it to Patton; who smiled and took it, taking a silly photo of himself before putting in his number and handing it back to Logan.

Logan sent him a quick “Hello!” and it wasn't long until he heard a buzz from Patton's back pocket.

“Well, it’s a date then!” Patton scratched the back of his neck, almost flustered at the noise. “I’ll see you soon, Logan!”

Logan smiled and nodded. “I’ll see you soon.”

reblogs would be wonderful <3

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