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Roman was exhausted.
Thomas had had a video he needed to post a few days ago, so Roman had been working overtime for that, and now Logan wanted him to come up with ideas for the next one and Remus had accidentally set a monster loose in his Kingdom and he had made a stupid mistake and gotten injured and Patton wanted everyone to spen more time together as a family and he had been snapping at Virgil more than usual and he could never get a good nights rest because he was stressed and overwhelmed and he felt terrible.
So needless to say, this hadn't been his month.
He felt so guilty for taking it out on poor Virgil, because he had done nothing wrong. Roman was just acting like an idiot. He should be able to handle increased pressure because he was a Prince, dang it, but here he was, crying at three in the morning because he had three unfinished ideas that Logan wanted done and polished by morning and he was halfway on one, two thirds another and barely even started on another. And to top it all off, he hadn't had more than six hours of sleep for two months.
Roman brushed the tears off his face with the sleeve of his hoodie, feeling incredibly pathetic. He should have been able to finish his ideas by now, but he hadn't, and Logan would be so disappointed.
Roman drew in a shaky breath, glancing down on his empty notebook. None of his ideas seemed to be good enough anymore, to anyone. He exhaled forcefully, glaring down at the papers that were more doodles and scratched out sentences than actual writing as his eyes burned.
Roman swallowed the lump in his throat, starting to write on the most finished piece of paper. Maybe if he just got at least one done…
Roman's eyes started to droop, and so he smacked himself in the thigh where he knew a bruise was. He hissed out a muffled curse, biting down on his bottom lip. Certainly more awake than before, he got back to writing.
Roman wasn't sure how much time had passed, but suddenly he was jerking his head off of his desk as his alarm blared with a horrible ache in his back. Roman cried out quietly in pain, slamming a hand down on his alarm clock. Glancing at the time, Roman paled. He only had five minutes until Logan wanted him to present his ideas to the group. Panic jolted his heart. He probably looked like a mess, and glancing down at his notebook he saw barely intelligible chicken scratch instead of neat writing. He could try to rush and finish, or he could try and look somewhat presentable.
Roman chose the latter, ignoring the pain in his upper back as he dashed to his bathroom. Flicking the light on, Roman spared a glance in the mirror and grimaced. His hair was a complete mess, uneven and full of cowlicks. His eyes were bloodshot, dark bruises rivaling Virgil's eyeshadow under them. His face was red and puffy and he still had tear tracks going down his cheeks, so he turned the water on and splashed cold water against his face until the redness went away. Quickly turning the faucet off, Roman checked the time on his phone and swore, loudly. He didn't have any time left, and hadn't done anything. He still had his glasses and oversized hoodie and leggings on and his freckles and the bags under his eyes were still there and none of his ideas were finished-
Roman didn't have any more time to panic before he felt the familiar tugging sensation that meant he was being summoned, and then he was in the Mindscape living room, facing all of the other sides with his composition notebook clutched to his chest as he stared out with wild eyes.
"Roman," Logan greeted as soon as he appeared, not looking up from his planner. "You were running late, so I thought it would be best to summon you. I assume that you have finished the ideas like I told you to?"
"I-" Roman was frozen, paralyzed under the stares from the other sides who were no doubt confused.
"Well?" Logan prompted, finally looking up, and when he did his mouth fell open.
"No," Roman whisperer, shaking his head and clutching his notebook closer as shame and guilt crashed over him. "I- I don't have- any of them done," he forced out, desperately trying to force down the tears that threatened to fall.
"Princey, what are you wearing?" Virgil exclaimed.
"Virgil!" Patton scolded, not tearing his eyes away from Roman. "Be nice to him. He doesn't always have to dress impeccably."
"But it's not like him," Deceit countered, giving Roman a concerned look. "Roman, is something bothering you?"
"No!" Roman said, letting out a laugh that sounded far to fake, "Of course not."
"Bullshit," Remus declared quietly, drawing all eyes to him. "You're wearing your glasses. You never do that anymore."
"Remus is right," Logan was quick to say. He set his planner aside, giving Roman his full attention. "You aren't presenting yourself with a perfect image, and that, for how we know you is very out of character." Logan gave him a scrutinizing look. "And you appear to have horrible bags under your eyes."
"I- I'm fine," Roman defended weakly, knowing full well he wasn't fine. He glanced down at the floor, heart slamming in his chest and breath quicking. He had spent so long trying to hide these things from them and now his carefully constructed facade was crashing down around him like a house of cards.
"Falsehood," Logan said softly, standing up and walking up to stand in front of him. "It's okay to not be okay."
Roman lunged at Logan, wrapping his arms around him as he let out a sob. Logan froze, and Roman was just about to pull away before Logan hugged him back, arms circling around his upper and lower back.
"Roman," Logan murmed, pulling him close. "You're going to be okay. Just let it all out, okay?"
Roman sobbed against, gasping for breath as he fought the onslaught of tears.
"Shh, Roman, just let it out, it's okay," Logan assured, slowly rocking them side to side. Roman sobbed again, feeling so embarrassed and frighteningly vulnerable. Logan's arms were the only thing shielding him from the world and preventing the other's from watching him break down so pitifully.
"Would you like to move to my room?" Logan asked gently. Roman nodded vigorously against his shoulder, and then they were sinking down. Logan led him over to his bed, tugging his glasses off and pulling him into his lap as he scooted against the wall. Logan reached a hand up to softly card through his hair, motions smooth and rhythmic. He gently drug his fingernails across Roman's back with his other hand, making circles and nonsensical patterns.
Roman wasn't sure how long he sat there, sobbing against Logan's shoulder as he whispered reasurencies to him, but eventually his tears ran out and he was left simply lying there, a wave of exhaustion like no other hitting him. Roman felt like he should say something, explain why he had fallen apart so easily, but all of his words were escaping him. Thankfully, Logan wasn't saying anything, or asking anything. He was simply holding him silently, and had Roman tears left to cry he might have started to again.
But he didn't, and this time, as his eyes started to feel weighed down by bricks, he let them fall shut instead of panicking.
He absolutely wasn't looking forward to being confronted about his breakdown, but for now, he was comfortable, and he felt so cared about and loved, resting in Logan's arms, so he didn't let himself worry about it.
It was a future him problem, after all.