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It all happened so suddenly.
What started as a simple date turned into what Virgil could only describe as a scene from the boring action movie Roman had dragged him to.
Virgil and Logan walk, hand in hand. The downtown area had been sectioned off for the fall festival, cones and barriers supposedly blocking oncoming traffic.
The car drives over the pylons and onto the sidewalk, causing bystanders to scream out for help. Virgil stands in shock for a few moments - one second he’s chatting with his boyfriend about their plans for the rest of the day, the next, Logan’s hand is ripped from his, the rouge vehicle pinning Logan to the ground with a screech.
The pained whimper from below him seems to snap him out of his haze, and Virgil feels his heart hammering in his chest.
“Logan,” he crouches down, trying to not let him see his panic. “Logan, you’ll be okay, I’ll get you out of this.”
Logan nods, tears welling in his eyes, and Virgil leans down to give his forehead a quick, gentle kiss. Virgil stands, peering into the driver’s side window - the driver seems passed out, so no use trying to get them to back off of Logan; besides, doing that would probably cause more harm to his already injured boyfriend. He motions the other festival goers to remove the driver from the car, lest they cause more damage.
Doing his best not to panic, Virgil shrugs off his hoodie and places it under Logan’s head. Taking a deep breath, Virgil crouches beside the car and places his hands under the frame, lifting the car with all the strength he has in his body. He lifts, huffing and puffing, and yells, “Get him out from there, now.”
Seeing that Logan is safe, Virgil drops the car, as well as himself onto the ground nearby. The sounds of sirens run through the downtown square, paramedics arriving to haul the couple to the emergency room.
A broken leg and two cracked ribs later, Logan sits in his hospital bed hearing recounts of the story, and if his boyfriend gains the nickname of Superman? Well, can anyone really judge him?