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Virgil had let his music fade out a long time ago.
His head was resting on the arm of the couch, and he was focusing on the window in front of him, watching the raindrops chase each other down the glass.
On days like these, he found that it was much more relaxing to let himself sink into the quiet and focus on the soft taps of rain, the intermittent shuffle of paper as Logan read through The Communist Manifesto, and the calming, familiar clicks of Patton’s laptop.
His headphones were still covering his ears as he lounged on the couch, making it look like he was still listening to something so loud it drowned out the rest of reality. He was, in a sense, but only by taking in specific aspects of it, immersing himself in the peace of these placid noises and floating in them.
It was serene; not in a way that Virgil was used to, but in a way that he wouldn’t mind embracing more often than not.
It lasted a good twenty minutes, before Roman appeared.
“Salutations!” the prince exclaimed with a flourish as he popped up into the common area. Saying that he had crashed through a window would have been more accurate, however, with how violently he broke the atmosphere. Virgil started so badly that he dropped his phone, Logan nearly tore a page in his book, and Patton let out a squeal of surprise.
Virgil tore off his headphones. “Is this an emergency?” he asked between gritted teeth.
“Absolutely!” Roman assured. “It’s an emergency that you’re all sitting here, gloomy as ghosts! I have an excellent plan for how to spend a rainy day!”
“You know,” Virgil said, “some of us actually like the peace and quiet.”
Patton piped up, closing his laptop to serve in his usual position as moderator. “Now, hang on, sport, let’s hear what Roman has to say. If he has an idea for a group activity, we should all listen!”
Virgil huffed and crossed his arms, hoping that it was something he could simply spectate.
Roman pulled out his phone and a pair of small speakers; he placed them on the recliner and turned to the other three, who were all sitting on the couch, ready to listen.
“Here is the question I pose to all of you!” he announced. “What could possibly bring life to a drab, rainy day better than-” he leaned over and pressed a button on his phone.
“-dancing!”
A waltz began to play, in the standard triple time, somewhat quick to step to.
“Dancing?” Virgil scoffed. “And to some music from the 1800s? Nobody knows how to do that anymore, it’s too complicated.”
“Actually, Virgil,” Logan corrected, marking his book and setting it down next to him, “dancing is simple geometry and symmetry. The principal concepts of Labanotation are abstract symbols to indicate the dynamic quality, duration, direction, and level of the movement, and which part of the body is doing the moving. This framework allows such movement to be reproduced in many different forms.”
Roman saw that he had piqued his interest and grinned excitedly, holding his hand out to Logan in an invitation.
Logan looked up at him, then back down at his book, before letting out a short sigh; he understood that he had put his armor away too quickly. “Alright,” he conceded, and took Roman’s hand before standing.
“Yay!” Patton cheered. “Dance party!”
Logan and Roman’s movements matched the swell of the violins, stepping in a circle, up, down, movements precise and near mathematical, just as Logan had described.
“Künstlerleben, by Johann Strauss, Jr,” Logan commented. “An excellent choice.”
“Well, it is quite regal,” Roman said with his usual smile as he allowed the other to lead. “You should try it in heels, it’s absolutely splendid! Fairy Godmother pulled out all the stops for me: The dress was spun from pure gold and the sleeves were lace. The trick is not to trip over it when you twirl.”
“Boring,” Virgil booed over the orchestra. Roman stopped in his tracks to scowl at him, resting his hands on his hips.
“I’ll have you know that ballroom dancing is very refined!” he said. “Do you happen to have a better idea?”
“Yeah. Anything but this.”
“Now, now, kiddos,” Patton broke in, standing up from his place on the couch. “There’s no need for fighting. Maybe we can have a compromise by putting on something a little catchier!”
He took Roman’s phone and typed in his choice in music, grinning when a new song started to play. It was a rock beat, slightly outdated, with drums and a growling saxophone. Crooning background vocals accompanied the unique singing of none other than Chubby Checker.
“Ah. The Twist,” Logan observed, standing aside as Patton and Roman began to dance together, moving their legs and hips and grinning from ear to ear. “One of the very first worldwide dance crazes that began around 1959, and-”
“Be quiet and dance, Encyclopedia Brown!” Roman encouraged. “This is supposed to be fun, not a college lecture!”
“It’s easy, Logan!” Patton said, hair flopping in his face. “All ya do is move side to side!”
Virgil snorted despite himself at the ridiculous dance moves, and had to cover up his smile to hide how much he was enjoying watching Roman and Patton twist around the common area. The two would sometimes hold hands and dance together, twirling each other and laughing when Patton would stumble over his own two feet.
“That’s hardly an accurate way of describing it,” Logan scoffed. “The hips, torso, and legs rotate on the balls of the feet as a single unit, and-”
“And then you just have fun with it!” Patton interrupted, throwing his arms up in the air with a cheer. He spotted Virgil, then, still curled up on the couch watching them, and moved towards him.
“You wanna join us, kiddo?” he asked; he held his hand out to him just as Roman had to Logan, inviting him with a glimmer in his eye.
As much as Virgil was enjoying himself, he couldn’t help but wonder how much they would hate him if he accidentally knocked the TV over, or worse, one of the others. He could even wind up looking ridiculous, and why risk being made fun of?
“No, thanks,” he said, but offered a small smile, a secret one he often shared with only Patton. “I’m okay with just watching.”
“Suit yourself, Virg!”
He returned to dancing; Virgil didn’t think he had ever seen him or Roman so happy before, moving together as the rain poured in buckets outside.
“Dancing in and of itself cannot exist without geometry, mirror symmetry, and basic mathematics,” Logan was still trying to argue, adjusting his glasses.
“C'mon, Logan,” Patton said, “don’t get your knickers in a twist!” He gleamed at his own joke, which earned him a high-five from Roman.
“Labanotation clearly states that-”
“Oh, quit trying to ruin the mood, pocket protector!” Virgil said at last, and lobbed a pillow at Logan; he smiled when it hit him square in the head, knocking his glasses off-kilter.
Roman and Patton had stopped dancing to laugh over the song. “Great shot, Virgil!” Roman hailed.
Logan coiled his lips into a grimace, but, if Virgil didn’t know any better, it looked like he was narrowly hiding a smile. “Don’t be infantile!” he accused before flinging the pillow at the prince, who cowered away with a snicker.
Patton cocked his head to the side, that special smile taking over his face. “Looks like you’ve been hit by a pill…ogan!”
He was rewarded with Roman smacking him upside the head with the pillow Logan had thrown. “That one I simply cannot approve of,” he teased.
“Hey, Pat!” Virgil called, and tossed another pillow to the parental facet, who caught it in both hands.
“Pillow fight!” Patton yelled, and promptly caught Roman in the side with his new weapon.
Before he knew it, Virgil had a faceful of pillow as well, and he couldn’t help but grab one for himself and retaliate, jumping to his feet, swinging his makeshift weapon at whoever was close enough, taking hit after hit after hit. He barely even realized how wide he was smiling until he saw that the other three were, as well.
Laughter and music filled the air, drowning out any sounds of the rain pouring just outside the window.