Chapter Text
The dim purple light shines down on his spider themed notebook (a gift from Patton, for a birthday or a Christmas, he can’t remember) as he scribbles on it furiously. Chasing a thought that’s always just out of reach, yet so close. He’s been at it for hours now. Still, he’s drawing an absolute blank.
Virgil throws away his pen in frustration.
It’s one of these moments where he wishes he hadn’t started this stupid tradition in the first place. He wouldn’t be crumbling under the great expectations, trying to out-do the last one.
How could anything be enough for someone as smart as…
Virgil feels his cheeks getting red. Fuck. He can’t get distracted now. He has to figure this out.
He rolls to the edge of the bed and lazily reaches out his left hand, feeling around the floor to find the pen. His fingers brush against it and he nabs it, blowing off the dust before he goes back to his brainstorming.
Another hour passes by with Virgil desperately thinking of ciphers and riddles and trivia and other nerdy shit. Whatever he comes up with is not good enough. It won’t be good enough for…
He remembers the smile on Logan’s face when he got the first puzzle. So stunned he couldn’t even form coherent sentences — which is impressive considering who we’re talking about. Virgil would do anything to make that smile appear again.
It’s not Christmas or Logan’s appreciation day. There isn’t a specific reason to do this, he just feels…
Logan has done so much for him. Helped him unstress and combat his own anxiety and negative thinking. Logan deserves something nice. A gift. It’s not- It’s not weird. They’re friends, friends give each other presents all the time.
Well, except Virgil.
Virgil’s the kind of person who would avoid giving a gift unless it was completely necessary and expected of him. Figuring out what to give someone is just way too stressful. Virgil couldn’t handle it being rejected. Better to give nothing and save yourself looking like an even worse friend by giving them something they hate.
But when he gives Logan a gift, it doesn’t feel like he’s pulling out his own teeth, as it so often does. He doesn’t want to cringe away in disgust. He feels… excited. Excited to hear Logan’s thoughts on it. To see him… happy. He so rarely is open about what makes him happy. It almost feels like a con, like Virgil’s manipulating Logan into feeling emotions. Logically he knows that doesn’t make any sense, but he can’t stop feeling anxious. That is kind of his thing, after all.
What if he doesn’t like it? What if it’s too much? What if he thinks it’s weird, even if he says it’s okay? What if he thinks it’s boring and lame and completely amateurish? What if he asks Virgil to not make him any more puzzles? What if-
Virgil snaps out of his rumination. He can almost hear Logan’s calming, gentle voice reminding him that this isn’t healthy. It isn’t productive. He’s letting his fears cloud what’s actually real.
Stupid Logan and his stupid lectures.
Why is he smiling?
He catches himself. He’s glad no one was in the room to see the stupid expression and sparkly makeup on his face. It’s come too close to his secret being found out already.
He means — it’s not a secret, he doesn’t have a secret. It’s not a thing, he’s just… confused. So fucking confused.
He’s always enjoyed Logan’s company, but lately he’s felt… anxious. Not the normal, quiet presence always lurking in the background that keeps his mouth dry and hands cold. No, this anxiety makes him feel… warm. His chest feels lighter, yet it’s harder to catch his breath. A rush that drowns out everything else. It isn’t an urge to flee, it’s an urge to get closer, a yearning to stay and make the moment last forever.
It’s the same feeling Thomas gets when he has a crush on someone.
Virgil is responsible for that feeling so it should feel familiar, but… this just seems so misplaced. Thomas hasn’t met anyone new in a while. It doesn’t make any sense for Virgil to be feeling this way.
He’s noticed that he only feels this way around Logan specifically. At first he thought it was just because of how much he genuinely enjoys Logan’s company, enjoys being friends with him. What’s the term people use… squishes? Like, platonic crushes. Virgil thought it was something like that. Logan is pretty cool and becoming friends with him definitely felt like an accomplishment.
But those butterflies never flew away, they bred and laid their eggs and now his body is filled to the brim with sharp, angry bugs, crawling all over him.
No matter how hard he tries to remind himself that he shouldn’t be feeling this way, it won’t end. Virgil should know better than to have a crush on his friend. That rarely works out for anyone.
What he’s learned though is that repression won’t help. He knows the longer he avoids addressing these feelings the worse the fallout will be.
Is thinking up a new puzzle a way for him to distract himself from all of this? Probably. Maybe if he does this one thoughtful thing for Logan, shows him how much he truly appreciates him, maybe the feeling would go away.
He doesn’t know what else he could do. Sometimes he wishes he could just come out and say it, get it over with, but…
What he’s afraid of most of all is Logan not being his friend anymore.
He could deal with not having his feelings reciprocated. He could deal with some teasing and awkwardness, although begrudgingly. But if there’s even a small chance of Logan being scared off for good, finally washing his hands off him, well… Virgil wouldn’t know what he’d do with himself then.
Virgil flips through his notebook. He suddenly realizes just how obsessive he’s been. For the past four hours he’s been stuck on this stupid thing that won’t even help him!
Just creating more problems… more chances for misunderstandings.
No, the message wouldn’t be clear enough with just this. Just a puzzle that doesn’t- that doesn’t even begin to capture it all.
He’s not even sure what the message would be.
Does he want to be more than friends with Logan?
A dozen scenes start playing in his head all at once, different ways he could fuck everything up. Stumbling over his words, Logan not understanding what he’s trying to say and Virgil having to repeat himself over and over again, someone walking in during the confession, all the different ways Logan would reject him, ranging from gentle to distasteful...
All these thoughts swarm around in his head, so loud and disjointed he can’t keep track of them all. His vision starts to get blurry and his breathing quickens. He grabs his chest and rubs it a little to try and calm himself down. This really isn’t a good time for a panic attack.
He sets the notebook aside and rolls onto his back, closing his eyes and breathing in deep.
Virgil clenches and unclenches his fists. There’s a restlessness entrapping him, trying to suffocate him. He focuses on his breathing. Tries to remind himself not to get stuck in those nightmare scenarios. Just focus on what’s real, that’s what Logan always says.
He tries to remember the last time Logan was calming him down. Counting down for the breathing exercises, making neutral observations, and… setting his hand on top of Virgil’s. Something that he doesn’t usually do. Spur of the moment, probably. Still, Virgil has thought about that piece of contact much more than he’d like to admit. Virgil’s always seen himself as someone who doesn’t like physical affection, and kind of assumed Logan was the same way too. And yet… Logan chose to hold his hand.
Suddenly a jolt goes through his body, making his eyes pop open and his heart skip a beat. It’s like a light switch got turned on inside his body.
Just from thinking about that nerd. How fucking pathetic.
He runs his hands down his face, exhaling deep.
He has to figure something out, and fast. These feelings are just way too unbearable.
But what to do, what to do…
Normally when he’s confused he’d ask Logan, but unfortunately that isn’t an option in this case. God he wishes he could ask Logan for help.
He’d probably say it isn’t his area of expertise. He doesn’t know anything about crushes or romance or confessions. He’d say you should ask…
He should ask Roman!
Oh- oh no. That’s actually a terrible idea, maybe the worst he’s ever had. Thanks a lot the-mental-projection-of-Logan-that-lives-in-Virgil’s-head. Some help you were.
He tries to think of something, literally anything else, but finds that in this state his brain is even more useless than usual. He can’t see his face but he just knows it’s adorned with that stupid glittery makeup.
If he goes to Roman, what would he even say? And more importantly, would he be able to keep it under wraps? He’s not the best at keeping secrets.
The alternative is to suffer alone, which, to be fair, is Virgil’s specialty. He told the others he wouldn’t do that anymore though. Patton’s always preaching about how expressing your feelings and talking about them is so damn important.
Yeah. It has been a while since these feelings started and so far Virgil hasn’t been able to take care of them by himself. Maybe it would be the right time to tell someone.
Ugh. These healthy coping mechanisms are giving Virgil a fucking headache.
He knows it’s the right thing to do, but he still has a bad feeling about it. It feels weird going against his better judgement, but what else can he do…
In lieu of a better idea, Virgil gets up from his bed and checks himself in the mirror. Yep, looking way too purple. He waits a bit trying to settle himself down. Once his face looks half-way normal he sinks down from his bedroom.
He rises up in Roman’s room. Before Virgil can even see him he picks up on some faint vibrations in the air. He spots a see-through box in the corner of the room. Roman’s inside with a microphone, in the middle of singing his heart out. Virgil chuckles at the sight. This diva made himself a soundbooth.
Their eyes meet. Roman jumps up from shock. Virgil can see his mouth moving rapidly, most likely throwing curses at him, but unfortunately for him Virgil can’t hear a thing.
Upset, Roman swings the door of the box open.
“Virgil, this had better be good! I told you I was going to record my album today.”
“You’re recording an album?”
Offense flashes in his eyes. “Yes- I- don’t you remember?”
Lately Virgil’s been so distracted. He thought Roman was just joking, but it seems that he’s serious. Virgil looks away, slightly embarrassed.
Roman groans. “My voice was finally sounding as angelic as it ought to, and then you just-”
He can tell that Roman wants to say “ruined it”, but is somehow holding himself back. Virgil suddenly feels bad. He gets an urge to just leave, but instead of doing that or, you know, speaking, he just stands there like a moron.
Roman looks at him funny. His frustration seems to vanish and gets replaced with fervid curiosity. “Why did you come into my room, Virgil?”
Why didn’t Virgil come up with a game plan? He knew that Roman was gonna ask that question sooner or later.
And now Roman’s staring at him, great… Virgil racks his brain but can’t find an answer. He tugs at his sleeves and looks down at the floor. This was just another stupid idea.
“Did you… need my help with something?” Roman asks carefully, like Virgil’s a deer he’s trying not to scare away in the middle of the night.
Virgil bites his lip and nods, still not making eye contact. He hates how helpless he feels. He can’t see it but he just knows Roman is trying not to grin at the sight of him.
Roman gestures to the couch and they seat themselves. Virgil crosses his fingers, his hands shaking up and down in sync with his restless legs.
For once Roman is silent. Virgil didn’t know he was even capable of that.
Virgil tries to get the words out but it’s like there’s a block in his throat. His heart is pounding so rapidly it’s becoming harder to think straight. He can hear the faint hum of the blood rushing all around his frail body.
“Virgil? Are you okay?”
He stops moving. He holds in his breath. His eyes widen and stare forward. It's like someone hit pause on him.
“Hey it’s- it’s okay", Roman coos.
Virgil buries his head in his hands and runs his fingers through his hair. His hands are so fucking hot and sweaty it’s unbearable. If it was okay to scream he would’ve lost his voice already.
“Would… would writing it down help?” Roman asks, his voice a faint whisper.
Virgil scoffs. He leans his head into his hand and exhales. What a stupid idea. Stupid solutions to stupid problems. He snorts out a laugh.
“No seriously I can get you a paper and pen if you- if you want” Roman adds, ever oblivious.
“Nah it’s fine”, Virgil affirms. He takes a deep breath. He’s suddenly reminded of that moment years ago, when he revealed his name to everyone. He just has to rip off the band-aid.
“Roman, I think I might… have a crush on someone.”
He glances at Roman, whose eyes have become as wide as saucers. Catching himself, he tries to make his face more neutral. Then it turns into a grimace. “It’s not Remus is it?”
“No- why- why would it be Remus?”
Roman puts up his hands in defense. “I don’t know, you tell me!”
“It’s Logan.”
Roman stares at him with his mouth open. You can clearly see all those little gears in his head turning, trying to form an appropriate response without any… personal bias.
He leans his chin on his hand, confuddled. All he can get out is, “Why?”
Virgil blinks. “W- what do you mean why?”
“I just, don’t really get it.” He shrugs.
Virgil can feel the irritation rising in his chest. Typical Roman, only seeing the world through his eyes and not sparing even a second to consider how Virgil feels. It’s obvious he won’t get it or be of any help. Virgil gets swiftly up from the couch.
“Okay I’m sorry, I’m sorry! Come back Virgil”, Roman pleads, voice thin and laced with something that sounds a little like regret. Virgil sighs and turns back. Roman is pouting like a dog that has been scolded for something it’s been told not to do for the tenth time already.
And still it somehow always gets its way.
Virgil sits back on the couch, glaring at Roman who’s trying to put on his most charming smile. He scoots in closer.
“So, you like the nerd. What’s the-”
“Logan. Just call him Logan.”
Roman doesn’t react to the objection and steamrolls on. “What’s the plan here?”
“I don’t know, I thought you’d tell me”, Virgil says, clear annoyance in his voice he’s not even trying to hide.
Prince Pompous points at himself, in faux-shock. “You need my help?”
Virgil groans. Typical Roman, needing it all spelled out for him so he can feel validated. “You’re the creative guy, aren’t you?”
Roman gasps, delighted. “Virgil. I’m honored, to act as your personal Cupid-”
“Gross.”
“-and even if I don’t get it, I will stop at nothing, to let this love bloom into the flower it’s meant to be!” His wildly gesturing hands are adding to the drama of his words.
Virgil flashes him a fake smile. “Great. So, what should I do?”
The giddiness makes way for seriousness as Roman gets up from the couch and starts pacing around, deep in thought. Virgil’s glad he’s not taking it as a joke, at least.
“We’re going to have to be very direct with him. Have you-”
“I’m not gonna just come out and say it.”
Roman stops his pacing to eye Virgil, brows furrowed. “That would be the easiest route.”
Virgil grips his knees tightly and looks down at the floor. “I- I’m just gonna get tongue-tied. There’s- there’s too much at risk”, he stammers. Looking back up he sees Roman giving him a strange look, one he can’t quite place.
“Very well”, Roman says finally. He continues his erratic pacing.
For a while neither of them say anything, with Roman so deep in thought and Virgil wanting nothing more than for the ground to swallow him up. He tugs on his hoodie strings, but it doesn’t help with the restlessness. He thought Roman being quiet would be better, but this long of a silence is starting to freak him out. He has no idea what Roman is thinking. He has to say something. Anything to break this awkward silence, anything that could actually be of any use. Virgil hates feeling so helpless.
He clears his throat. “I, uh… I thought about making him a puzzle but… that might be too… indirect", his voice trails off, hesitant.
Roman’s head snaps back towards him instantly. He’s squinting and grinning, biting his lip… Whatever he’s thinking Virgil knows he’s not going to like it.
Roman plops back onto the couch, now much closer to Virgil than he was before. He lays his hand on the backrest and crosses his legs, his whole body angled towards Virgil.
“How long has this been going on?” Roman taunts.
“I- I don’t know.” Without thinking he starts biting his nails.
Roman slaps him on the chest playfully. “C’mon Virgil don’t be shy, tell me everything!”
He can feel his cheeks start to flush. Virgil turns himself slightly away from Roman. “No! I’m not- I’m not giving you any details! Just- just tell me what the fuck I should do about this.”
Roman’s smile fades and he carefully scoots away from Virgil. He lets out a sigh, staring up at the ceiling. Virgil scratches his arm. God he’s itchy and sweaty all over. He should probably take off his hoodie, but that just seems like too much work. His brain is in that mode where he’s aware of how many steps every single action takes, and all those steps just seem insurmountable.
Roman glances at Virgil, a pondering look on his face. “If you can’t just come out and say it, perhaps we need to conceal the message somehow.”
He furrows his brows, confused. “I thought you said we- I mean I, needed to be direct with him.”
“A concealed message that once revealed becomes crystal clear”, Roman replies cryptidly, with barely contained excitement.
“What?”
Roman’s eyes are almost shining. It’s clear that whatever idea he’s come up with, he’s particularly proud of. “So, Logan likes solving puzzles, right?”
“Uh, yeah? I’ve made him a couple of those. He- he really likes them.” Virgil can’t help but smile thinking of Logan concentrating on his puzzles. He always gets so into them.
“What’s the usual reward for solving the puzzle?”
“I mean the first time I did it it was a jar of Crofters. And it’s usually just little stuff like that, but honestly? It seems like he enjoys the solving part more than the actual reward.”
Roman nods to himself, as if Virgil is successfully following along to a script Roman has already penned in his head. He suddenly gasps, perhaps trying to act like the idea just struck him. “I know what you should do.”
Virgil stares at him blankly. Roman’s crossing his fingers and shaking his hands, trying to conceal all the energy inside. He’s waiting for Virgil’s cue to lay out the answer. Oh the suspense… this drama queen.
“Ye-”
Before Virgil can even end his sentence Roman cuts in and lets the words explode out of his mouth. “You make a collection of puzzles and what-have-yous, and each one solved will give him a word! Once he’s reached the end, he has to rearrange the words to reveal…”
Roman gestures to him, waiting on him to finish his thought. Getting put on the spot has never been his favourite thing.
But then he realizes just how the sentence ends. His stomach drops.
“The message.”
“Exactly!” Roman exclaims, clapping his hands together.
“What’s the message?” Virgil asks, to no one in particular.
“Huh?”
“I don’t know what the message is”, he admits quietly.
Roman scoffs, eyes shifting nervously. “That- that you’re madly in love with him and wish to pursue a romantical partnership! Right?”
Virgil averts his eyes, hunching down. He should be more excited, he should be grinning like Roman was a moment ago. Instead he just feels… dread. And numbness. He’s not sure if he would call this feeling love.
“I- I don’t know about that Ro.”
Glancing back at Roman he sees a man defeated, confused, maybe a bit betrayed. Roman probably thought this was like… a whole thing. That he could actually get to be his Cupid. He shouldn't have come here. Virgil knew he wasn’t sure, he just… really needed someone to talk to. Now he got Roman’s hopes up for nothing.
Virgil gets up from the couch. “Sorry for wasting your time.”
“Wait- where are you going?”
Roman leaps up and grabs Virgil by the arm. Just as quickly as he makes contact he retrieves his hand. The look Roman gives him is agonizingly pleading.
Virgil sighs heavily. “You can’t help me with this.”
“No! I- I’m sure we can figure out something, t- together!” he babbles, crossing his fingers again.
Shaking his head, Virgil steps away. “This is something I gotta do myself. Thanks though, I uh… I appreciate it.”
Roman lets his arms fall limply to his sides. He’s trying to hide his clear disappointment by awkwardly nodding.
Virgil sinks down, but quickly rises up again. “Oh, and also… If you dare mention what I told you to any of the others, I swear I will find a way to actually kill you.” He gives Roman his scariest look.
Roman laughs. The tension subsides a little. “I- I understand Virgil. Your secret’s safe with me.” He sets a hand on his chest, as if making a vow. What a valiant prince.
Virgil scoffs, but feels his shoulders relax. He sinks down.
Back in his bedroom, Virgil eyes his notebook still open on his bed. He closes it gently and sets it on his bedside table. He makes himself promise not to open that notebook again until tomorrow. He's done thinking about all of this for today. He desperately needs a distraction.
Opening his laptop and getting comfortable on his bed, he searches for his favourite conspiracy videos on youtube. That will surely get his thoughts elsewhere.
He really tries his hardest not to think about his conversation with Roman, or puzzles, or especially Logan. It’s a fool’s errand, there’s nothing he can do about it right now. Just forget about it. He’s never going to get it.
It's three in the morning in the middle of a three-part video essay when he realizes his cheeks are stained with tears.