Chapter Text
Virgil leaned against the wall as a warm spray of water cascaded down his shoulders. He closed his eyes, pretending the warmth was enough to fill the empty ache in his chest. If he focused hard enough, he could feel warm arms ghosting around his shoulders. But it was barely an illusion. As hard as he tried, Virgil knew he couldn't just conjure the feeling of being hugged.
He sighed as the scalding water cooled off, the little bit of heat leaving him. He got out and wrapped a towel around himself, swallowing his sadness as the cold once again enveloped him.
It was stupid, he knew it was, but he just couldn't stop. He couldn't stop the painful yearning, the devastating pang in his chest, the frustrated tears that would inevitably begin bursting forth moments after he excused himself from a situation. He couldn't stop just how ridiculously badly he wanted a hug. But a hug wasn't an option, or so it seemed. Hugs were for Patton and Roman- Remus and Janus even. But never, ever for Virgil. He didn't know why, but he knew that that was how it was, and he'd had to get used to it.
All sorts of blankets lined his bed: weighted, heated, fluffy, soft- different colours and patterns too. His favourite was the fleecy blue one with the stars. He could hug his stuffed unicorn tightly and read his wholesome fanfiction and take his boiling hot showers in the middle of the night, and he convinced himself it was a substitute. He had warmth, he had solidity, and he had comfort. That was basically all there was to a hug, right? Except, Virgil didn't know. He wanted to know, more than anything, but as the other sides cuddled on the couch and high-fived and hugged, Virgil didn't dare ask. They were giving him enough as is- letting him hang out with them and talk to them was already more than he could ever ask for. Virgil didn't dare try for anything else. He couldn't do that to them.