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Roman was never one for sharing, almost ever. He wouldn’t share toys with Remus when they were little, he wouldn't share a brilliant idea he had in case someone managed to take credit for it or even made it better, he wouldn’t share food or drinks, he still didn’t share how he felt.
Emotions are something you’d think the side of Creativity would stay in tact with, right? But with Roman, he couldn’t remember the last time he was a full open book. He didn’t feel like he could when he felt the need to be so outgoing and loud so no one worried for him, or he made more trouble than needed.
Why would he open up if people would just diminish his feelings and laugh? No one would take his stress and sadness seriously.
Which is why he found it strange that he was now looming outside Virgil’s room in the dead of the night, scared to make a noise or move. Why was he even here? Why Virgil ? The two had never necessarily gotten along or been the best of pals, so why Virgil?
Virgil would be the only one who.. understood. Logan would just give him ideas on how to improve, which may help in the long run, but right now he wanted understanding, Patton wouldn’t try to understand, he’d just try and comfort him, and that's not what he was looking for currently, and it was obvious why he didn’t want to confide in Janus or Remus.
Roman took a deep breath in, before mustering up the courage to rap his knuckles against the door to Virgil’s room. He was really hoping he wouldn’t regret this, or run away before the door was even unlocked.
“What do you want?” The door swung open, revealing a tired Virgil. His usual hoodie was discarded on the floor and replaced by a purple short sleeve t shirt, and instead of black jeans he wore black checkered pyjama bottoms. His unamused look quickly turned into one of concern when he took in the state of the prince before him.
Roman hair looked like it’d barely been touched, which normally he would consider a crime, but now he just looked like Thomas in Accepting Anxiety and didn’t bother to change it. The lack of sleep was prominent under his eyes, and by the fact he could barely keep them open. Instead of his incredibly formal, over the top prince outfit, he was wearing an old jumper and some random shorts he’d found at the bottom of his wardrobe.
Roman couldn’t see all of Virgil, just the bottom of his legs and feet, since he was looking at the floor. He hated that Virgil, or anyone really, had to see him like this, so pathetic and miserable, but he wanted to try and start being more often after he’d heard Logan list the negative side effects of not speaking to someone about how you feel.
“Princey?” By the tone of his voice it sounded like he had been trying to gain Roman’s attention for a while, but it wasn’t an angry or annoyed tone, but a concerned one. “Dude, it’s way too late for you to be awake. What are you doing?”
For a split second Roman met Virgil’s eyes, but immediately looked back down when he saw a slight hint of worry in his expression. He was definitely bothering Virgil, he should’ve just stayed in his room and slept it off.
Roman just sighed and fidgeted with his fingers. He wanted to say something, something to reassure Virgil he was okay so he could retreat back to his own room and forget any of this ever happened. “I had nowhere else to go.” Was what came out instead.
Roman finally looked up and met Virgil staring right back at him with a frown. “Come on, as much as you would like to, you can’t just stand out there all night.” He opened the door wider and moved to the side. Roman forced himself to move his legs to go inside. He did come over here, after all. How would it look if he showed up, then as soon as Virgil opened the door he ran away?
Virgil had to guide the fanciful side to his bed as he could barely make out anything beyond blurred blobs, and he realised how feeble and weak he must seem right now. The exact two things that described the opposite of who he was supposed to be. He definitely shouldn’t be here, he should just get up and leave. Why hadn’t Virgil make him leave yet?
“Princey,” Virgil interrupted his thoughts, his voice quiet and soft, nothing like Roman had expected Virgil to be like. “Roman, stop that.” He said, his tone more serious and slightly raised this time. Virgil was holding onto his wrists and gently unravelled his fingers from around his hair. He didn’t even realise he was tugging at his hair. Had he always done that when stressed? It would explain quite a bit.
“Do you need anything, Ro?” Maybe just someone to be there for him, for once. Someone to actually listen and try and understand no matter how stupid and confusing his feelings were. Someone to then hug him and reassure him it would be okay. He just wanted somebody to confide in.
Roman just shrugged.
“I’m just going to get a blanket,” Virgil looked down at Roman. “I am not going anywhere, don’t worry.” He nodded in response.
Virgil wasn’t gone for too long, not that the concept of time was great for Roman at the minute. He brought back a blanket, just like he said, and two glasses of water, in case Roman decided he wanted one. He then sat on the bed next to Roman, who was now under the covers, but not sitting too close in case touching him made it worse, and wrapped the blanket around both of them.
Maybe a blanket under the duvet was unnecessary for most people, but Roman appreciated it. Maybe it was an accident or Virgil really did pay attention when the group made pillow forts and Roman would always have extra pillows and blankets or had movie nights and he would always have his own blanket over everyone’s shared one. He decided on believing the second option.
“Can I turn on the tv? Or would you rather it stay quiet?” Roman, for once, wasn’t in the mood for a movie or tv show or whatever else Virgil was considering putting on. Everything was already overwhelming as it was.
“Quiet,” He mumbled, voice hoarse from not talking for so long. “Please.” He added on after a few seconds
“Of course,” Virgil obliged, settling down more onto his pillow. There was a somewhat comfortable silence between the two. Roman wasn’t fussed on how comfortable the silence was, he was just glad there was silence, and Virgil was more worried for Roman than anything.
Around ten minutes later, Roman was just about to doze off, but felt an unfamiliar warmth around his hand and opened his eyes out of curiosity. Virgil’s hand was now entangled with his, the prince looked at him with confusion. He wasn’t going to complain, though.
"It’s just- You were, yknow, scratching your hand due to your stress. So, if you’re gonna scratch just scratch my hand instead,” Roman was about to protest, claiming Virgil had done enough for him, but was stopped. “Roman, you’re way too tired to be arguing with me. Get some rest.”
Roman’s heart fluttered and he hated it. Why did Virgil have to be the kindest person on the planet for once, and why did he decide to turn to him for comfort out of everyone?
Now with the hassle Virgil was going through for him, he owed him an explanation for his feelings. He couldn’t just disturb Virgil’s night and make him do all this without telling him why he was here.
After a few minutes of deciding what to say, he spoke up, “Virge?”
Virgil’s head turned to face him, “Yeah, Princey?”
Virgil had never really gotten out of the habit of calling Roman ‘Princey’, and it was only now that Roman fully realised and appreciated it.
“Do you ever just-” Roman’s plan of what to say was all out the window now, completely forgetting what he planned on saying.
“Ro, you don’t need to explain to me. You can do it tomorrow morning if you really want to.”
“No, I want to,” Roman took a few quick breaths before continuing, “Have you ever felt you aren’t who you’re supposed to be? Like, everyone has this image of you in their head because of your side and the part you play in helping Thomas, but in reality you’re nothing like that at all. But now, it’s too late and you can’t just drop the act or everyone’s views on you will change, and you’re happy with how everyone sees you currently.”
Roman wasn’t expecting all that to come tumbling out, he was just going to stop after the question to see what Virgil said. He kept his eyes forward, afraid of catching Virgil’s expression.
“Roman, remember that song we sang as puppets?” Roman nodded, holding onto Virgil’s hand tighter. “Do you remember my verse? I used to act like how I thought I should as the embodiment of anxiety, not like myself. It’s bad to do that, Roman, and you shouldn’t constantly be hiding yourself in fear of what others think.”
“But, my perception of myself is all based on how others perceive me. That is the reason I act the way I do, because everyone would take pity on me and I’ll then just feel pity for myself.” He hadn’t expected this quick trip to Virgil’s room to get so deep. Virgil was the first person to know all this about Roman, and at first he was afraid to even say one thing, but Virgil didn’t interrupt or pity him, Virgil was just there , and that’s what he needed.
“Look, I know we’re not exactly the bestest of friends, but I’ll always be here, Roman,” Roman gave Virgil a lot of disbelief, but quickly softened when they were suddenly hugging. “I swear.” Virgil whispered against his jumper, and now he was crying.
Roman buried his head in the crook of Virgil’s neck, holding onto the latter’s t-shirt, while Virgil kept his arms tightly wrapped around Roman, rubbing circles into his back. “Gosh, I’m- I’m sorry, Virgil,” Roman spoke between sobs, and now Virgil felt as if he could feel his heart break in his chest.
Virgil decided not to tell Roman he had no reason to be sorry, he could tell him tomorrow, they didn’t need to have another stupid thing to bicker over. Instead, he whispered reassurance to Roman and held him in his arms.
Just like Roman had wished for.