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Virgil’s chest felt tight, it felt like a rubber band begging and pleading to snap. He hated it. He hated being so emotional, being such a negative ball of angst curled into one sad little man. Everything around him, everything about him—it was overwhelmingly infuriating and yet it all felt cold, and numbed down to nothing.
He rubbed his thumb on his boyfriend’s palm in an attempt at a self-soothing motion, some coping thing, skill, whatever—Logan had told him about. He was laying on the Logical side’s bed all spread out, limbs sinking into the mattress. His gaze was stuck on the white ceiling, unmoving from the same boring spot. His back ached slightly, it was locked in an uncomfortable position. Maybe there was some stupid pebble stuck underneath his jacket—his skin—causing it. Like that ol’ fairytale they referenced in The Bee Movie. Some ridiculous, random thought like that should have made him cackle or whatever- yet, nothing. Nevertheless, he laid there, his hand hung off the side of the bed gripping the other’s hand.
Logan hummed, reading to himself. Virgil recalled him infodumping about it earlier, Thomas had begun hyperfixating on psychology again so that nerd of a side definitely took that as an opportunity to soak up as much information about it as he possibly could in this short span of energy Thomas conducted.
This was their typical song and dance. Virgil heard Logan call it “Parallel Play” as a joke once, or he was serious about it- sometimes he wasn’t sure what Logan’s tone was.
Sometimes Logan just being there, not making a lick of a sound helped. His presence was a balancing act the Anxious side needed. Maybe it was some yin-yang bullshit Roman would say, or just a psychological desire for anxiety wanting to be tamed and put to rest by the concept of logical reasoning. Either option sounded a little stupid to Virgil, but what was he except on occasion a pretentious dick. Not like Janus though, in a different way. Never like Janus.
“Why are you crying?”
Virgil leaned his head up to find his boyfriend staring at him, his book forgotten on the nightstand.
Logan tilted his head, furrowed his brow, and asked again. “I will ask again, apologies if you don’t wanna discuss this. However, I value your emotional well-being so I repeat my previous statement. Why are you—well, actually, do you know why you are crying?” He tried to rephrase. They both had concluded long ago that Anxiety could be so overwhelmed from time to time that not even he could pinpoint his feelings.
He moved his free hand from its limp state, touching his cheek softly. Oh. They were wet.
Virgil laid his head back on the mattress, “I wasn’t even aware I was crying.”
“You weren’t?”
“Mmmm- no.” He tended to do that, he cried easily. Over the littlest things, it was such a hassle. Such a burden. The smallest things could set him off, maybe that was just one of the cruel jokes his trait’s purpose played on him. “Is that ok?” He asked weakly, more to himself if anything. “Is it ok to not know?”
He heard shuffling. Logan spun around and sat up next to take a better look at his lover’s face. “Emotions, the bane of my existence—”
Virgil chuckled softly at that.
“—are complicated. Eventually, it perhaps would be useful to discuss this matter in more depth to understand it. But, if you feel it would be beneficial to just relax and distract yourself for a while—I think that would be serviceable.” He smiled tenderly.
He rolled around to make eye contact with Logan, to which he also exchanged a small grin. “Yeah, that- sounds cool. Can you come here?” He opened his arms in a motion of suggestion.
“Ah yes, cuddling. My favorite form of socio-emotional therapy.” Logan stood up and stretched before he climbed under the covers to be next to the other.
Virgil laughed and pressed a faint kiss on the other’s forehead, “Nerd.”
"Indeed, yes, that has been well established at this point."
And just a little, Virgil's chest loosened up its grip.