D as in...: Part 5 - Divan
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___
It was around half past eleven PM when Roman barged into Remus’s room and for once was the one to give the Duke almost a heart attack.
Stressed Remus twirled around in his chair and stared at his brother, who ran inside and let himself drop onto Remus’s couch, a loud woeful sigh accompanying his actions. Remus furrowed his brows and stood up to get closer to him.
Confused he stood still for a minute, while Roman moaned in theatrical agony into one of the pillows. As that went on for another minute, Remus began to get bored and sat down onto his coffee table, waiting for Roman to get a grip and just tell him what posed such a dramatic performance.
When Roman remained speechless but for his wailing noises for yet another minute Remus had enough and finally asked: “What is this about?”
With a jolt Roman stood again, paced in circles, hands pressed to sides of his face and whined: “You didn’t tell me that he purrs!”
Remus stared at Roman as if he had lost his mind. Actually, Remus was rather certain that Roman had in fact lost his mind.
“What is this about?” Remus tried again and watched how Roman shook his hands to the air.
“You didn’t tell me that Virgil purrs!”
That made it click.
“Wait. What?”
“Purring! P – U – R – R- I – N- G! Purring!!”
Remus waved him off and shook his head as he dramatically flailed around and dropped back down to the couch.
“I know what purring is, you dipshit,” Remus countered and continued before Roman could interrupt him for the name calling. “I – Did he purr in front of you?”
“Yes! And it was so aa-aadorable!” Roman whined and hid his face in his hands.
Remus blinked unimpressed and raised his eyebrows. Well, now that was an interesting development, despite his brother being such an annoying little brat.
“Are you done now? Can we talk like grown-ups?” Remus asked with another eyeroll.
Roman made an offended noise but before he could start to complain, Remus cut him off and simply stated: “You might just have reached a new level of trust with him.”
Roman froze on the spot. A new level of trust?
“It’s not easy to get his guard down so much that he’ll purr around you. It happened a few times when we were little, and J read to us but it hasn’t happened involuntarily since we were thirteen, or so,” Remus explained further and Roman felt his heart drop.
Oh no.
He pressed his hands over his mouth and Remus looked at him with a slight tint of panic. His eyes were wet. His lips trembled. His shoulders were shaking. It looked like Roman would start to cry and Remus was not sure why.
“What is happening? Why do you look like you’re about to cry?”
A breathless laugh slipped over Roman’s lips and he said revealing a unbelieving grin under his hands: “He might be ready to love me. He might be – be ready to be – to be with me-e-e!”
Roman’s words slurred under a wave of tears and Remus sighed and sat down next to him. With joy crying accompanied with a slight hint of overwhelming he could deal. For a few minutes he held his sappy brother before he asked him, if they wanted to draw for a while.
Roman agreed and for the rest of the night the twins refuelled by doodling quietly with one another.
___
Virgil lay awake in his bed. He stared at the darkness around him.
They had been meant to be enemies. They had been meant to sabotage and fight against another.
A stubborn, reckless ego against an overly anxious flight and fight instinct.
But they never truly became enemies, did they? They might have fought about what Thomas should do but it was always clear that Roman knew best what Thomas wanted. Virgil had never doubted that. He had found his ideas idealistic, naïve and sometimes even stupid, but he never doubted Roman’s sincerity when he spoke about Thomas’s wishes.
This was why to Virgil Roman never truly became an enemy. But now, after so many years and fights Virgil found himself realizing that to Roman, he had been an enemy. That for Roman he had been more than an inconvenience or a thorn in his side, but an unclimbable wall. An obstacle he could not overcome nor outrun.
Anxiety could shut Logic up and Morality shiver. But not Creativity. Not the Ego. In the worst cases Roman was left to fight alone against him, the only one left to move but unable to actually do anything.
Because Virgil used worst case scenarios, nightmares, terrible ideas against him. He used the imagination against Creativity.
Roman was helpless and beaten by his own means, while Virgil had called him stupid and weak. Anybody would be angry at Virgil because of that. Anybody would not want to associate with him after something like this.
But Roman did. Probably, because he had to, the Mindscape might be big but, in the end, there was no avoiding the other. Not forever at least. Yet by now Virgil had the hunch, maybe he would go so far and call it knowledge, that Roman saw something in him. That despite the harm Virgil had caused, he saw the potential good in him. That he wanted to believe in that good more than into his black and white world view.
A black and white world view Roman maybe never really had. At least, not as black and white as Virgil used to believe. No, there was more empathy, more hope and determination for betterment in him, than Virgil was able to see in the beginning.
These thoughts occupied Virgil’s mind but they weren’t mean or angry with him. They just stated and analysed and existed within him, trying to figure out what Roman and he were. For the first time ever, Virgil found his late night thoughts not disturbing but actually helpful and after an hour or two, Virgil go up from bed.
Driven by his mind Virgil searched for a notepad and started to write down the thoughts he had. After a solid hour of writing he looked through them and started reordering them, linking them together and understanding how all of it worked together.
It was not a clear result he got. Not that he had expected it. He was anxiety after all, not logic. There was the facet of worry and fear, he could never come to a completely logical conclusion. Emotions always played a part of it and his emotions towards Roman were big and anything but shallow or easily explained.
Roman made them all hope and dream. Roman had helped him grow and took him seriously. Not like Patton and Logan, who had been coddling him and patiently waiting for him to understand him better. He saw the danger in him, and while his words had not always been helpful and sometimes even cruel, Virgil had needed somebody to call him out for his mistakes. Violently and honestly call him out.
Roman was a friend. A good friend. He had been so surprised when Virgil had helped him to get out of his room.
When he had saved him.
So unbelieving and grateful his look at had been.
Like...
Cinderella’s.
Cinderella who had been a victim of people who had used and abused her. Cinderella who was known for being naïve and idealistic. Cinderella whose father wanted best for her but hurt her in the process by choosing to do something he did not want to do.
Virgil sat still for a couple of minutes just staring at the wall.
Roman had told him something so intimate, so personal and he had not understood. He had not seen behind it. Of course, he hadn’t. He had hidden it within his words, masqueraded himself in art in which he found himself.
Roman saw himself in the position of a victim, who had to idly stand by and let life happen to him. Playing a role, which was called spineless, a doormat. A character who had to be rescued to find freedom and a better life.
Of course, that was simplified and Virgil understood that Roman did know that as well. After all, he was smart and adaptive. He did fight back, even though it wasn’t always warranted and effective. And he also had tried to right the wrongs he did as he fought unsolicited and hurt the others. Hurt him.
Virgil sighed and drove his hand through his hair. This was so complicated and twisted. There was so much to think about and it got so complex so quickly. How could he figure this out?
“Okay, Virge, you’re overthinking this,” Virgil told himself and started walking in circles as he began this conversation with himself. “Take a step back. Where do I make this complicated? Where is the mistake I make while thinking…
“Thinking…
“Maybe I should not focus on thinking. Maybe focus on feeling. And I care for him and feel strongly for him. It’s strange and I don’t know what to do with it but it is there. This is why I’m musing about our relationship. Why I analyse if I am good for him. If he is good for me…
“And I’m asking those questions because…”
He wanted himself and Roman to feel good. To feel better, to be better than before. He did not want to remain in the past but to build a future.
The alarm on his handy rang and he realized it was seven o’clock am. He blinked and at once felt like he needed to do something. He needed to fight for Roman. For a future. For something he didn’t know would work but, by the Mindscape, he wanted to risk it nevertheless.
Quick he left the room, knowing the others weren’t up yet and hoped he could get to Roman before breakfast was ready. Silently, he walked to the door and knocked. For a moment he waited only for then knock once more, afraid that if the door wouldn’t open soon, he’d lose his suddenly found determination and would back out from his plan.
As he was about to know a third time, the door was opened and he saw Roman appear behind the door. His brown hair was messy and he still wore the cream shirt with the red top part and the red shorts. His face looked a little different than in the evening. The skin tone was darker and his facial features a little softer. The had a few moles all over him and had painted his finger and toe nails with red nail polish.
Only now, it crossed Virgil’s mind that he himself hadn’t changed, still wearing his grey shirt with the purple plaid patches, long dark grey sweatpants with the bats and his rainbow pride socks. Immediately, he felt himself fluster and he was about to just leave as he caught Roman’s look and –
It was just so hopeful.
He could not possibly leave. Not now.
And so, he looked behind Roman into the room and asked sheepishly: “You’ve got a sec for me?”
Roman nodded and stepped aside, so Virgil could enter. So, Virgil entered and Roman closed the door behind him.
Virgil looked around. The room felt different. More alive. He saw the nail polish sitting on the coffee table, a script and cup of something laying next to it and a tablet with headphones plugged in laying on the divan.
Now, there was actually proof that someone lived in this room, Virgil realized the uncanny difference from before and glanced up to Roman, who eyed him with a frown.
“Are you okay?” Roman asked.
Virgil had been looking around in silence too long. He cleared his throat and vaguely pointed towards the divan: “It just – It looks different from the last time. Like, it looks like you actually live in here. Which is cool. Good for you ‘n stuff.”
Roman stared at him for a second and looked a little stressed to the stuff on the coffee table.
“Ro, it’s okay. It doesn’t need to be tidy and perfect. I like it a little messy.”
Roman grinned and scratched the scar on his chin.
“Old habits die hard. I’ve had it tidy and perfect for so long that it’s hard to let you all see it like this… Want to take a seat?”
Virgil agreed and they went to the divan and sat down. For a moment Virgil thought about what to say and how to say it. Of course, his mind had to play tricks on him now. How else could it be?
“So, last night left you thinking as well?”
Virgil looked over to Roman, who had a lopsided smile plastered over his lips and scratched his collarbone. A bit put off Virgil stared at him, the words not quite reaching his brain.
“I mean, it left me thinking and – since you are here, I assumed you were thinking too and-” Roman said stumbling over his words and nervously looking at Virgil. “I just. Look, I know when someone of us has romantic feelings for the others and. I know how I feel about you. So, just that it has been said.”
Virgil went pale and then flushed heavily.
How he had not considered that possibility of all the things he had been worried about, was beyond him. But well, that meant he did not have to confess it right away. Roman knew no matter what so he could focus on other things first.
With a gulp Virgil nodded, pushed his fingers into the divan cushions and answered: “Cool, cool, cool. So, that’s like an unspoken thing now, I guess. Like you know I know that I know how I feel and how you apparently feel about me. We’ll leave it at that. Right?”
“As you wish,” Roman answered with a smirk and Virgil rolled his eyes.
“But uhm, you don’t know that I… I’m sorry for how things used to be between you and me. All the ill will and the things I put you through.”
Roman opened his mouth and Virgil held his hand up to stop him. He tried to calm him a little with a smile and it at least led to Roman remaining quiet for a little longer.
“I know that’s over,” Virgil continued then and felt something shift, “and we’re both different now, but I needed to acknowledge it. To admit that I have been bad and mean and maybe even evil to some extent, because I let my misery and pain out on you all. I want you to know that I feel bad about it and… I wanted to properly ask you, if you want to move forward with me and leave that in the past. To, uhm, start into a future where we know what we did, we won’t ignore it, but we won’t let it rule us, and stuff. Is – is that okay with you?”
Roman looked at him with his big brown eyes. They were rich with colour and meaning and Virgil felt his chest grow warmer.
Roman nodded.
“Yeah,” he said with an airy smile. “That’d be nice.”
Virgil had to concentrate on how to breath. His head felt fogged and he snickered as Roman did so too.
“Since your room makes all of us anxious…” it came after a while from Roman.
“Yeah?”
They looked at each other, Virgil’s chest feeling tighter and Roman’s voice sounding further away than ever.
“What does my room do to you? It’s not like anybody had ever stayed here long enough to tell me.”
Virgil stared at Roman. His heart was beating fast but not from fear. There was a heat. There was purpose and … courage.
Virgil pulled his legs up on the couch under himself and adjusted himself to face Roman. With his right he clutched the bottom part of his shirt nervous about what he was going to do, but determined to do so nevertheless. Shaky he lifted his left hand next and let it hover over Roman’s right shoulder. Roman turned towards him, moved a little closer to him, looking enraptured into Virgil’s differently coloured eyes.
Virgil gulped and let his hand fall on Roman’s shoulder. He looked and waited for Roman to stop him, to say anything. He didn’t.
And so, Virgil said instead: “I. I feel a little stupider. And bolder. And – And the voices in the back of my mind, which tell me I cannot kiss you are really quiet.”
Roman’s eyes were endlessly soft. He moved closer, smiled, put his left hand on Virgil’s cheek.
“Quiet enough for you to ignore them?”
A laughing breath escaped Virgil’s lips and there was short second, where he nodded before he finally moved forward, closed the gap in between them and kissed him.
The touch was light as a feather. But there was the warmth of a pile of blankets and hot cocoa within it. Both felt the other and themself smile against their lips. Slowly, they become soft in their touch and Roman started leaning backwards, as Virgil’s weight softly pushed him down.
And then as Roman leaned against the back lean of his divan they parted and opened their eyes. Virgil’s blush was obvious to spot and he felt Roman’s cheeks radiate with warmth as Roman beamed at him in delightful delirium.
And they just gazed at the other, Roman laying on the couch, Virgil hunched over him. And then at once, they began to giggle. With his right hand Roman covered his mouth, while Virgil placed his right over Roman’s left still residing on his cheek.
“I feel so silly,” Virgil murmured.
In response Roman pulled Virgil closer, so their foreheads touched and said just as quietly: “Welcome to my world.”
Again, both giggled and Virgil pulled a little back to put less pressure on Roman and give him the possibility to sit up if he wanted.
“Are you telling me that you admit that romance is silly?” Virgil asked as Roman sat up keeping Virgil as close as he could.
“It’s hard to deny that romantic acts are inherently and utterly silly, when you’re also the embodiment of pride and want to keep up a reputation. Which is surprisingly difficult when you feel like you’re getting lost in your eyes... The purple is so astoundingly pretty.”
Roman let his thumb linger over Virgil’s cheek and at once there was the steady, vibrating sound from Virgil’s purring. Roman pressed his lips together to keep himself from laughing but broke the second Virgil started to snicker.
“If I were to scratch you behind the ears would you purr louder?” Roman asked with a glint of mischief and curiosity in his eyes.
Virgil wanted to protest, to deny but stopped and offered instead with a smirk: “I’ll let you find out, if I get to kiss you again.”
“Oh, please do.”
And they kissed again. Virgil felt Roman smile against his lips, Roman’s fingertips brushing over his cheek and neck. The warmth radiating, pulsating inside him, knowing it was part of Roman’s powers that were weakly, so very weakly activated and created this sensation of such a particular warmth he had learnt to recognize as Roman’s.
A pause. Virgil opened his eyes and grinned at the Prince, feeling how he let his left drift further to the back of his face behind his ear. And then he scratched him as if he was a cat and Virgil purred a little louder than before. He melted against the touch and let Roman continue with no complain.
And so Roman scratched him for a few minutes, letting Virgil rest his head on Roman’s shoulder and cherish the warmth radiating from Roman’s body. It felt like heaven.
“You’re like sunlight.”
Roman stopped to scratch him and Virgil made the offended cat chirp noise as he did so. Unpleased he sat up and looked at Roman to find him staring at him in disbelief.
“What is it? What did I do?” Virgil asked in arising panic, only to be pulled into a hug right after.
Virgil froze and then started to draw circles on Roman’s back. He felt him shaking, trembling in his arms and steadied his grip. Pressed Roman a little closer, gave him a little more contact to feel that Virgil was there. That he was not going away. And then he began to purr again.
And as it was, he realized that the compliment, the comparison to the sun, maybe had caused his Prince to come to terms with the fact that he was right. That Virgil loved him and really felt like Roman was the light in his life.