NO OK YOU KNOW WHAT I THINK ABOUT THIS A LOT AND I WILL LITERALLY SCREAM IF I CONSIDER THIS FOR TOO LONG
Contains: anGST, self deprication, fear of death, misunderstanding, communiCATE YOU FOOLS
Prinxiety kinda? Could be romantic or platonic *shrug*
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Virgilβs heart nearly stopped when he heard Roman come into the kitchen behind him. He spun around, clutching the slice of buttered bread in one hand, butter knife in the other. βAh-!β He swallowed. What was Roman doing in here at this time of night? Heβd been swapping around his sleep schedule specifically in an attempt to avoid the royal. Fat lot of use that had been, clearly.
Roman glanced up casually. βGood evening, Anxiety,β He hummed, opening the fridge and ducking his head in, peering at the contents.
What was he playing at? Was he trying to throw him off guard? Strike when Virgil wasnβt expecting it? Virgilβs shakey grip on the butter knife tightened. βUhβ¦ hi,β He croaked.
βMaking a sandwich? Capital idea. I think I might have a ham and cheese, myself,β Roman nodded, pulling items from the fridge and bumping it shut with his hip. He sauntered over to the counter, standing next to Virgil, starting to put together his own food.
Virgilβs mouth felt dry. He stared down at the bread, blankly dragging the knife back and forth across the slice as he thought. Was this going to be his last meal? A peanut butter and jam sandwich? God, he was going to die without being able to tell Logan theyβd run out. That sucked.
He tensed as Romanβs shoulder brushed against his, and he looked up at the royal Side. Roman was a head taller than him- something that had always irritated him, not that it mattered now, nothing really did, did it?- and he sighed desolately.
βWhatβs on your mind, Rude-y Gloom?β Romanβs voice made him flinch back, pulling his gaze back down to his sandwich, trying to still his trembling hands.
βIβm fine, Princey.β His voice cracked slightly. He hated that. He hated sounding weak. Vulnerable. Damn it, Virgil, canβt you even die with some dignity? Have a spine for once in your life? A voice in the back of his mind hissed.
He dropped the knife, grabbing onto the counter as his legs wobbled beneath him. His breath rushed out of him, his chest suddenly aching. He dimly heard Romanβs voice, unable to focus on the words. His vision began to swim. Would he get a chance to even say goodbye? Goodbye to Thomas? Goodbye to Logan? Goodbye to- oh, god, he was never going see Patton again. His eyes filled with tears.
He felt Romanβs hand touch his shoulder and he jerked back as if he was burned. He stumbled backwards with a cry, his legs buckling under him. He collapsed backwards, falling against the cabinets, yelping weakly as the back of his head smacked against a handle.
ββ¦ xiety? Anxiety!β He raised his head- it was so heavy- and blinked sluggishly, meeting Romanβs wide eyes. The Creative Side was on his knees in front of him, hands half-raised, an uncertain look on his face.
Virgil tried to scoot away, his head spinning- pointless useless theyβre all better off without you- and whimpered hoarsely. His whole body shook like a leaf, each breath difficult to drag into his lungs.
βAnxiety, look at me, come on,β Roman said, his voice cracking a little. Why did he sound so upset? Did he not want to kill Virgil then? What, did he want to chase him for sport or something? It was as good as Virgil deserved, he supposed. βAnxiety, can I touch you?β
ββ¦ No,β Virgil croaked, the echo in his voice only putting him more on edge. βDonβtβ¦ donβt want toβ¦β He choked back a sob.
Roman dropped his hands, nodding. βOkay, okay, thatβs fine,β He murmured. βWhat donβt you want, Anxiety?β
Virgil looked up from underneath his feathery bangs, his miserable, terrified, frantic eyes meeting Romanβs wide, concerned, uncertain gaze. He doesnβt care, if you lower your guard heβs just going to kill you, you idiot! Every part of him, every single iota of his being, was screaming at him to run, to fight, to do somethingβ¦ but he knew that Roman was right. βIβ¦ I donβt want to die,β He whimpered. βBut I hurt Thomas. I get it.β
Roman flinched back, frowning. βWhatβ¦ Anxiety, youβre not going to die. Why would you think that?β He asked softly. He reached out and gently touched Virgilβs hand.
Virgil shrank back, pressing himself harder against the wood of the cabinet. βYou said it yourself. You find what makes someoneβs life difficult and you-β He broke off in a sob, the tears spilling over onto his cheeks- pathetic stupid useless soft idiot. βAnd you kill it. I get it.β
Romanβs eyes lit up, only to be crushed by sorrow as he understood what Virgil meant. βAnxiety,β Virgil was surprised to hear that Romanβs voice sounded as broken as his in that moment, βIβm notβ¦ I would neverβ¦ I donβt want to hurt you, Anxiety. I promise.β
βYouβre lying. Iβm useless. Stupid. I just ruin everything.β Virgil shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut as hot tears streaked down his cheeks. The thoughts whirling in his head came spilling out of him in a rush as he hiccupped and sobbed. βI make Thomas worried about stupid things, I just bring everyone down, you donβt need me, Iβm bad, just get it over with, just kill me already!β
He felt Romanβs arms wrap around him before he could react, pulling him forward against the otherβs strong chest. Crushing- no. A hug. A hug? A hand gently rubbed circles against his back. He clung desperately to Roman, however much of a lie this was, however much Roman could be readying a dagger behind him right this second, he didnβt care. He needed this. To cling to the false hope that he mattered, that they cared, that he was wanted and needed among them.
He felt Romanβs hand come up, running gently through his soft hair, and whimpered, burying his face against Romanβs chest, feeling the smooth silk of his sash beneath his cheek, inhaling the sweet scent of flowers- was that perfume?- in between the sobs that wracked his small, thin frame.
The only sound in the kitchen for a few minutes was the violent, heartbroken sobs ripping themselves from Virgilβs mouth as they clung together, sprawled on the floor, Roman cradling the Anxious Side as if he were something precious that he was scared to let go of.
βAnxietyβ¦β Romanβs voice wavered, and Virgil felt the faint rumble in his chest as he cleared his throat and began again. βNobody is going to hurt you. I swear it on all I hold dear. I may not see eye to eye with you onβ¦ nearly anything, but that doesnβt mean Iβm going to run you through.β
Virgil didnβt say anything for a few moments, slowly trying to calm his sobs. He took a deep, shaky breath. βIβ¦ really?β He squeaked, his voice barely audible. He was pleased that the echo had mostly faded.
βReally,β Roman affirmed, leaning his cheek against the top of Virgilβs hair. βReally truly. Iβm sorry for worrying you so.β
Virgil considered this for a moment, then sighed, sagging against Romanβs chest. He was exhausted. ββ¦ S'fine. Just me being stupid and jumping to conclusions again, I guess.β
βYouβre not stupid,β Roman argued, slowly lifting the two of them into a sitting position. βNot at all. It was poor word choice on my part. I donβt agree with you on damn near anything, but that doesnβt mean that you arenβt a part of Thomas, just like the rest of us.β
Virgil licked his lips. ββ¦ Iβm fucking tired.β He muttered, choosing to skim over Romanβs heartfelt statement. Why did panic attacks always have to take so much out of you? Jesus.
βIβm not surprised. Tell you what, how about I finish these sandwiches, we eat, and then both of us get ourselves back to bed?β Roman hummed.
Virgil paused, then nodded. βYβ¦ yeah. That sounds good,β He murmured, his voice a little softer.
Roman slowly stood, guiding Virgil to sit down at the table before he plucked the sandwiches off the counter and returned. βGoodness,β He said through a large mouthful, βIs that the last of the Crofters? Thatβll tick Logan off.β
βLogan can be ticked all he wants,β Virgil retorted with a half-hearted eye roll as he finished his snack. βI want some goddamn jam.β
Roman chuckled, then shoved the rest of his sandwich in his mouth. He got to his feet and paused. He swallowed, then looked back down at Virgil. ββ¦ Are you going to be alright?β He asked softly.
βYeah. Iβm fine, Princey.β Virgil looked up and smiled a little. βFor real this time.β
Roman nodded. βWellβ¦ you know where my room is, if you need. Goodnight, Anxiety.β He turned to leave, starting towards the stairs.
βWait!β Virgil blurted out. It didnβt feel right, Anxiety was his purpose, not who he was. It wasnβt right. He had to-
Roman looked over his shoulder, eyes a little wide. βWhatβs wrong?β He asked, concern creeping into his tone again.
Virgil paused, licking his dry lips, then sighed. βUhβ¦ donβt let the pea bruise you, Princess.β It wasnβt the right time. One time comforting him in a panic attack did not make them friends.
Roman chuckled as he went upstairs. βI shanβt. Sleep well, Anxiety.β
Virgil stared after him for a moment, then closed his eyes. Well, there was one less thing he had to worry about.
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