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fearfilledvirgil · 6 years

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Ivity and Anx: part fourteen

Summary: Virgil listends to the song that Princey posted in his living room. Things go to hell.

Warnings: accidental self isolation, breif mention of migraines, parental abuse, attempt of muder, a knife, self-blame, self-depreciation, guilt

Word count: 5130

Pairing: Slowburn Prinxiety, lots of platonic Analogical

A/N: HI I RECORDED A SONG FOR THIS PART AND I’M SHAKING. Anyways listen to this song which is a recording of the song that Princey sings. But with my voice. And yes, I made Roman have the same guitar as I do because I’m emoTIONALLY ATTACHED okay? The video is bad, but just pretty please listen to it and read the chapter or both at once I don’t know. If you know how it sounds it gives the words a bit more meaning than just random poetry. Anyways. This chapter is very emotionally taxing and sad. It made several beta readers cry. Good luck. Taglist under the cut.

masterlist

Taglist: @rileyfirstname @verymuchanidiot @definentlynotjustanotherlemon @silversmith-91 @kanejandkruge @sander-fander-sides @lovecrazyjennybear @the-incedible-sulk @hexdream18243 @crows-with-hats @monikastec @definenormalifyoucan @i-am-absolute-fandom-trash @applecannibal @cats-with-blogs @bubblycricket @witchcraft--and--wizardry @bunnyartie @quietlypondering @elusivefalsehoods @hghrules @royallyanxious @quietwords-loudthoughts @squishynonbinarytwink @sortablue @illogical-anxieties @savingshae @a-fander-named-skittles @thelowlysatsuma @ughthatsprettygay @im-so-infinitesimal @certifiedtrashxx @karmels-stuff @littlelogicstillcounts @musicqueen1239 @nicological1 @the-average-loner

Today had been a long day, but that wasn’t unusual. Long days were a common thing for Logan since he moved into his college dorm, but that was mostly his fault. Classes hadn’t started yet, for either Logan or his friends going into their junior year, but that didn’t mean that Logan hadn’t started studying yet. The seventeen-almost-eighteen year old would spend several hours a day at the library, reading his textbooks and teaching himself the material for the classes to come. He also kept detailed and clean notes, something that made him happy.

His notes served a few purposes for Logan. It was a way to destress, it let out his creativity in a productive way, it helped him remember what he studied, and it provided him something to put on his Tumblr along with his bullet journal. He had what was called a studyblr, and was fairly popular. When he followed Virgil without telling him what his blog was, the younger nearly had a heart attack.

Logan’s pen stopped in the middle of the sentence he was writing. Virgil. He hadn’t talked to the younger in a while, which honestly scared him. The two used to be inseparable, considering that both were on the outskirts of the social game. Logan was always diving into books, and Virgil was always avoiding people at all costs. Now, though, with Logan off at college and burying himself in his books again, the two weren’t talking as much. Come to think of it, he hadn’t talked to Patton in a while. That was an oddity as well, since the excitable man loved talking to him. Logan loved talking to him. The college student felt a dip in his stomach, probably because of guilt. He was so busy studying at the library that he had begun to forget his friends.

A text tone interrupted the classical music streaming through his headphones, making him pause. A light of hope flickered inside his mind, because just maybe, it was one of his friends deciding to break the silence. He didn’t even realize how much he missed them these past few months until now.

Patton Heart <3: Hey Logan! I think you probably should check this out. It’s totally about Virgil, but you know more about the situation then I do.

After the first text, Patton sent with it a link to a video on YouTube. Logan was certainly confused, but once he clicked the link to preview the video, he understood. Roman posted a video, most likely unedited, of a song about Virgil.

Logos Brain: Thank you for bringing this to my attention. I will alert Virgil. How have you been, Patton? I apologize for my momentary absence. I have been settling in here and regrettably forgot to talk.

Patton Heart <3: It’s okay!! I’m glad you’re settling in well. Make any friends?

Logos Brain: No one could replace you, Heart

Logan could not see, but Patton was flapping his arms everywhere at that comment. It gave him peace of mind knowing that Logan felt so strongly about him, even though he was known for not having any feelings. It made Patton warm and fuzzy inside, like most things that Logan said. What Logan could see, though, was his own phone pulling up Virgil’s contact and sending him the link to the video.

Pocket Protector: Virgil, Roman wrote a song about you. You may want to check it out.

Honorary Brother: Oh. Okay. Thank you Lo Sorry we haven't been texting

Pocket Protector: Its my fault. I was neglecting my friends in favor of studying

Honorary Brother: This is why I usually am the buffer. Taking ten minute breaks every half an hour? For your head?

Pocket Protector: Yes, Virgil. I promise.

Virgil was usually the one causing Logan to worry, but that didn’t mean that he didn’t worry about him too. The elder had an skill for getting headaches after reading or concentrating for too long. If he let the headache go without treating it, there was a more than likely chance that he would get a migraine. If it got to that point, little would stop the pain, and the migraine would persist for hours, or even days. That’s why Virgil made Logan have the ten for thirty rule.

Virgil shifted on the couch, trying to get more comfortable as he clicked on the YouTube link. He knew it was Roman, but he didn’t know how he could write a song about him of all people and be able to pass it by the record label. As soon as the video loaded, though, Virgil understood.

The title of the video was ‘Psychic, an Original Song by Roman Prince’ and opened with Roman pulling his arm away from the camera. He was sitting in a mostly dark room, fairy lights behind him, with his guitar resting on his legs. His head was almost out of frame, but the bottom half of his face was visible. Virgil sucked in a breath as Roman started talking on the video.

“I just want to start out with saying that this video is currently in no way related to Vidomen Records or any of it’s associates. I actually just wrote this song like… ten minutes ago, but I just.... I need to get this out. So. This is called Psychic.” Roman’s voice was soft, spoken with care and in his lower register. Virgil suddenly became aware that he did not, in fact, have his headphones in, and was making a loud commotion in the living room by playing the video.

Be seen not heard. Or, better yet, don’t be fucking seen either, but don’t leave this house, ya hear? The booming echo of the memory of his father’s voice made a shiver fall down Virgil’s spine. He quickly turned down the volume as low as it could go without being off. He then put the phone up to his ear, closed his eyes, and listened to Roman’s smooth voice begin to sing.

It’s almost like he can read by thoughts But I wish you could too All these emotions and things inside That I’m trying to get through to you.

Virgil’s heart plunged into his gut at the sheer emotion in the words that Roman sang. They were taken straight from Princey’s own heart, which made Virgil understand why he put the disclaimer at the beginning of the video. It was nothing like his usual, peppy, flamboyant songs. This song was pure Roman. Virgil held onto the phone harder as the slower chorus played through the small speakers.

If you could be inside my mind Then I wouldn’t have to try To put my pride aside And tell you the truth But the truth is hard to get out When it falls on closed ears So can you be psychic for me? Can you be psychic for me?

Roman took another breath to continue singing, but Virgil’s phone was knocked away from him. Fear stabbed him in the heart and gripped his lungs to make it hard to breath. His eyes widened, adrenaline pumping through his veins as his father grabbed his wrist. He was pulled off the couch, tossed down to the floor.

Vaguely, he could hear Roman continue singing with, “I know that you’re terrified.”

“What did I tell you about making noise?” Virgil’s father growled as he stepped closer to his son, who was now on the floor.

A little ways away, Roman continued singing with, “Because you’ve been cast aside.”

“I-I’m sorry, sir.” Virgil started to stutter, but was stopped from further apology by a kick to his side. The fear inside his chest was pushing at his rib cage, almost begging to be released. It was pounding, hard and fast like nothing he had ever felt before. He didn’t understand the difference in this punishment. It had started out just like all the others, so why was his adrenaline at an all time high? Why was he so scared, but not of the man leaning over him?

“Tell me what I told you!” the father figure yelled, his fists clenching as he stepped on Virgil’s wrist.

In the distance, Roman finished the chorus with, “Your feelings were twisted for fun. Words like bullets from my gun.”

It was at this moment that Virgil finally came to a screeching halt. Roman’s voice flowed into his ears as he sang the bridge again, somehow becoming louder with every passing second. Everything around him dimbed, the loudness of his father screaming his sentence again diminishing as his ears started ringing. The world was starting to go into some sort of slow motion, allowing Virgil to rethink over the decision that his mind had already made the moment that the phone was slapped out of his hand. Now he realised why this time was different. This time, he had Roman’s voice with him, a voice that he had once hated but learned to love. It was the soft tone that the singer used to comfort the other on those late night calls, and it was with him in this moment. This time was different because Roman unintentionally just accidently gave him hope. He didn’t understand why the lying boy would write this song, but it struck a chord inside Virgil. He didn’t register the dryness of his mouth or the pain in his wrist. All Virgil could think about was the word stuck in his throat, leaning off the tip of his tongue.

“No.”

“What?” Virgil’s father took a step back in shock. He hadn’t heard that word pass from his son’s lips since before his mother died. “What the fuck did you say?’”

“I said,” Virgil sat up from the floor, his hand finding his phone that was still playing the song and placing it in his back pocket. He was standing now, straightening his back with a slight bit of pain to be taller than his father. He was working on auto pilot, the world still fuzzy. “No.”

Thanks to the odd sensation of not actually being in his body that Virgil was experiencing, everything that followed was a blur. There were loud words, dodged punches, and spit flying everywhere. That much was processed in his head. Virgil was vaguely aware that he was also yelling, but what of, he didn’t have a solid grip. The words passing off his tongue felt like he was calling his dad out about being a drunk, and calling him out on how he treated his own son, but he couldn’t be exactly sure.

Before Virgil could acknowledge it, he had screamed his throat raw. His father’s eyes were glaring daggers at him, wide and seething. He could only see red. Virgil, on the other hand, was coming back down to earth, and the hope in his stomach was washing away. Every ounce of confidence that may had been left fully disappeared when his father reached over the kitchen counter. He didn’t realize that they had moved so close to the kitchen in their fighting, and Virgil was going to pay for that.

Mr. Sanders drew his hand back, revealing a long silver kitchen knife. Virgil’s heart rate suddenly skyrocketed, his hands beginning to shake even more than they were. His father took a step closer, which made Virgil take a step back.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t- I didn’t mean…” His eyes were glued onto the knife. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry won’t fucking cut it,” His father was advancing quicker. He adjusted his grip on the knife. “You need to be taught a lesson.”

Virgil attempted to back away again, but instead fumbled over the couch. His back hit the cushions, but he was immediately attempting to scramble away. His father was still approaching with some sort of sick gleam in his eyes. Was this his plan all along? To get him to fight back, only to stab his chest to hear him scream and see the light leave his eyes? Did he hate him that much, that he’d kill him? Virgil fell off the couch, too caught up in the dark thoughts to notice the end of the sofa. The floor came up too quickly, and suddenly he was eating carpet. He heard his dad snicker behind him, dark and menacing. This was too much, this was too much and Virgil could not take it.

Somehow, he managed to get up off the floor. It was messy and ungraceful, but he grabbed his hoodie laying on the ground while getting up from the floor. With his hoodie in hand, and his phone in his back pocket, now all he had to do was get the fuck out of the apartment. Of course, Mr. Sanders had other plans than to let his son escape that easily. He follows Virgil menacingly, the glint in his eye growing as he started to raise the knife.

“I’ve been too lenient to you. It’s time you get what you deserve.” he said, looking at the knife and looking toward his son. Virgil’s vision swarmed in and out, his breathing all but stopped.

The next few moments would stay in Virgil’s mind the rest of his days. They played out in slow motion, frame by frame, as it happened.

Mr. Sanders lunged quite quickly, but it didn’t feel quick at all. Virgil eyed the knife, sharp and threatening, as it darted toward his chest. Before he could think, Virgil began to turn to the side, his eyes never leaving the intentional divits in the glinting silver. As he was trying to get away from the plunging knife, Virgil put his arms out in front of him. While he turned, his arms did too, which was both a good thing and a bad thing. The knife missed its mark on Virgil’s chest, but it still sliced through his upper arm. A small scream ripped from Virgil’s throat as it did so, but he pressed on. Since his arms were moving forward as he twisted, the knife was pressed deeper into his arm. But after it passed through his flesh, Virgil’s arms connected with his father’s body and pushed away.

Afterward, time sped up.

Virgil was running. His breathing was quick, coming in bigger gasps then before. He fumbled with the door for only a moment before it was open and he was running. He was going down the concrete stairs ten times faster than he usually did, only bent on getting away from the apartment. He needed to get away, even though he knew that he would eventually have to return. But for tonight, he ran like there was no tomorrow.

That was, at least, until his panic driven state began to wash away. His lungs burned, as did his legs, but at least he was away. Virgil took a second to gauge where he was. Upon looking around, he concluded that he was in Logan’s neighborhood. His legs must have carried him here due to muscle memory. Virgil thought that was okay for the moment until he realized something very important. Logan was not here. Without Logan, Virgil had no one. And, now that the fight or flight response had eased up, he just realized how much pain his arm was in.

So Virgil did the only thing he knew how to do: call Logan.

Once seated semi-comfortably on a bench in the neighborhood park nearby, Virgil attempted to pull his jacket on to attempt to keep the chill of night at bay. He took out his phone and sighed. More cracks had formed when he fell over the couch.

“Please still fucking work.” Virgil pushed the button to unlock his phone and let out a sigh of relief when it still turned on. He went to Logan’s contact number and hit the call button.

Logan picked up after two rings. “Good evening, Virgil.”

“Hey Lo.”

Logan could hear in Virgil’s voice that he was crashing from the adrenaline. “Is everything alright?”

Virgil considered lying for a moment. He knew that Logan could read him like a book, even over the phone, so he decided against it. “No. It’s not. It fucking sucks.”

“Do you want to tell me what’s wrong?” When he didn’t get an answer, Logan decided to try something different. “Gauge?”

Virgil sighed. He was simultaneously grateful and hateful at just how well his friend knew him. “Eight and a half.”

“What happened?”

Virgil took a breath, his grip on his phone tightening. “Knife.”

There was shuffling at the other side of the line. “Virgil, Virgil, you need to get it looked at. It’s not something that I can help you with where I am.”

“I know that, Logan, but you know I can’t go to the hospital.”

“I know. There is someone else you can go to,” There was a pause, then the opening and closing of a door. “Someone who has helped you through a lot.”

“Don’t fucking say it.”

“Virgil.” The tone was testing, but Virgil didn’t care at the moment.

“No, Logan. I can’t.” Virgil shook his head even though he knew Logan couldn’t see. “Not after this long of time. He probably fucking hates me. He’s probably planning how to make next year a living hell.”

“He misses you.”

Three simple words. Something Virgil never thought he’d hear about Roman. Did Patton talk to Logan about it? Is that how Logan knew that Roman missed him? Logan wasn’t one to say or do anything without some facts behind it so it wasn’t a gut feeling.

“You don’t know that, Logan.”

“Yes I do. Patton’s said so. Several times.” At the moment, it sounded as though Logan was walking rather quickly. “Patton even told me that Roman’s tried reaching out to you.”

“Roman hates me. He’s out to make my life a living hell.”

Logan pinched the bridge of his nose, but kept walking. “Do I honestly need to read to you a list of reasons for you to go to him?”

“You don’t have one of those ready, Pocket Protector.”

“Actually, I do. Give me a moment.”

Virgil shouldn’t have been surprised, considering that Logan was crazy over lists and notes. He would comprise one full of pros and cons about Roman. Sighing, Virgil put a little pressure on the cut, hoping to stop a little of the bleeding. There was a sound on the other end of the line of a door opening and closing again. Then came the ruffling of papers.

“Are you ready, Virgil?” Logan asked a few moments later.

“Do I have a choice?”

“No.”

“Didn’t think so. List away.”

“I’m ignoring that. Some of the pros of going and talking to Roman include: He knows about your past and would be least likely to completely, um, ‘lose it’ if you showed up bleeding. Roman also has been able to help keep you calm in moments of excessive alarm. Occasionally even more capable at it than I am. You are also very comfortable with him. At least you were before you realized who he was. You trust him to some extent. And I believe that he has no intention of hurting you.”

“Wait. Did you just say ‘I believe’?” Virgil couldn’t help but point that out.

“Based off of evidence I have collected, yes.”

“And what evidence would that be?” As much as he hated to admit it, he was curious about what would cause Logan to say that.

“One example would be that he told Patton that he ‘had ruined everything’ and ‘it was all his fault.’”

Virgil didn’t know how to respond to that. It was the last thing that he expected Roman Prince to say about him. He never thought that Roman would go so far as to blame himself. He thought that Roman would laugh about the experience and use it as more fuel against him.

“Virgil?” Logan’s voice broke Virgil out of his thoughts.

“Sorry, what?”

“I said would you like more evidence?”

“No, thank you. I don’t want want to hear the page and a half of evidence you probably have on that one point.”

“It is a page and a quarter.”

“Whatever you say.” Virgil couldn’t help the slight smile that was on his face. He missed talking with Logan so much.

“Anyway. Roman would also find a way to help you without making you go to the hospital. And just talking to him would be enough to, uh, pay him back.”

“Based off what Patton said I’m guessing?”

“Precisely. Though it is a possible con in he may not want to talk to you. It was a few months ago that Patton told me this.”

“Any other cons?”

Virgil heard the shuffling of pages from the other line again. “He could be upset that you didn’t let him explain himself. He could be upset that you broke off all ties. However it’s hypothesized that sitting down and talking to him about why will rectify that. Actually almost all of the cons I have written could be corrected by just talking to him.”

“Almost all?” Virgil’s curiosity got the better of him.

“The one outcome that wouldn’t be corrected is if he truly never cared for you, which seems highly illogical. I believe that there is an infinitesimal chance that talking to him will work.”

“Logan. Buddy. That’s not encouraging.”

“Why not? I am simply saying that there is a great chance that if you talk to him things will be alright.”

“Not that ‘infinitesimal’ means Lo.”

Virgil couldn’t help but chuckle when he heard Logan typing away quickly at his computer. He could almost imagine the look of disbelief on the other’s face. The sputtering from the other line proved that Logan was at a loss for words at misusing the term.

“I...deeply apologize for that, Virgil.”

“‘S all good. I knew you didn’t mean it.” There was a pause. “So you really believe it’s a good idea to go to Roman?”

“I truly do. While he may be arrogant, I do not believe that he will turn you away. He’s prideful but he still has a heart.”

“Alright. If he does I expect a major apology.”

“I promise.”

Virgil took a deep breath and was about to hit the end call button when something stopped him. It was some emotion he hadn’t felt in a long time. After pondering it for a minute, Virgil realized it was pride. He was proud of what he was going to tell Logan.

“I stood up to him.” Virgil whispered as he got up from the bench.

“What do you mean?” Logan asked, fearing the answer.

“My father. I... I stood up to him”.

“That’s… That’s good, Vee. If you did, I think it’s all the mor--”

“That’s not it, Logan.” Virgil cut off his friend. He was now standing near the bench, not ready to leave the familiar place yet.

“What’s not ‘it?’” Logan sounded worried. There was another shift on the other side of the line, signifying that he put down his papers.

“It all happened so fast, or slow, I don’t know. He may not have but... I turned and the-the-the blade went deep into my arm and…” Virgil took a deep breath to attempt to steady his heavily beating heart. He couldn't get it out. He couldn’t.

“You’re probably bleeding far worse than I anticipated because of, of your bravery,” Logan moved the phone to his other ear. “You did stand up to him, that’s what matters. And I’m.. I’m extremely proud of you.”

“Yeah but now my jacket is going to be soaked in blood.” Virgil joked as he started walking again. He heard a muffled ‘Jesus Christ’ on the other end of the line which made him crack a smile.

“If you do not go to Roman I will fly home and personally drag you kicking and screaming to the hospital and then to his house.” Concern was clear in Logan’s voice.

Virgil knew Logan well enough to know he meant it. “I’m already off the bench and out of the park. You’re just lucky the two of you don’t live that far apart.”

“We what now?”

“I ran into your neighborhood. Muscle memory I guess.”

“I am… sorry that I am not there to help you.” Regret was clear in Logan’s voice. He wished the world that he could be there to help protect his friend.

“Its okay. You’ve got collage, and… Like I said, he only lives a few blocks away.” Virgil was lying. He was lying so hard that it hurt. But he had to, because he couldn’t spend his entire life dependant on Logan. He had enough of Virgil’s bullshit and pain. He deserved a normal life full of learning, possibly love, without Virgil weighing him down. That’s all he ever did, really, was weigh him down. If Virgil hadn’t been so stupid as to go to his house all those years ago, hurt and afraid, then Logan’s life could have been free from pain. The most he had to worry about was love and knowledge. But no, Virgil had to ruin all of that.

“Virgil, talk to me.” Logan cut through Virgil’s internal thoughts. He seemed to do that a lot.

“What? Sorry, spaced out.”

“You worry me. I asked if you want me to stay on the phone with you?” Worry was even more evident in Logan’s voice than before.

Virgil pulled his hood up to hopefully block some of the wind as he turned onto the main street. It was late, past midnight at least, so there wasn’t too many cars to disturb the call. “Maybe? I don’t know. It sounded like I took you away from something.”

“That was… nothing really important. A dorm activity.”

“That you liked or not?” You fucking idiot Virgil. He was doing normal college stuff and you couldn’t even let him do that. Stupid.

“It was okay. I met this mess of a man, Nate, who scares me with how much he procrastinates.”

“So… ProcrastiNATE.”

“I hate you.” Logan couldn’t help the slightly fond smile despite his annoyance at the pun.

“Come on, you love me.”

“You’re right. I do. A lot, honorary little bro.”

“Did you just call me ‘bro?’ What has college done to you?” Virgil teased his best friend. No, that wasn’t right. Logan was his brother. They were closer than blood could ever make them.

“I tried! But honestly, you’re still Honorary Brother in my contacts.”

Virgil was silent for a few moments before he regained himself. “That means a lot to me, Lo.”

“I know it does, Virge.”

Virgil was still concerned that he messed up an important part of Logan’s experience at college. “Are you sure that I’m not taking you away from anyone right now?”

A knock on a door at Logan’s end of the call gave him his answer. “One moment.”

“Sure.”

Logan removed the phone from his ear and covered the speaker to hopefully minimize what Virgil could hear. He sat up from the chair at his desk to approach the door. Upon opening it, the man that he talked about to Virgil was standing there. Logan furrowed his eyebrows in confusion before raising one as to ask ‘what are you doing here?’

“Oh, good, this is your dorm. Okay.” Nate pushed up his sunglasses and leaned against the doorframe.

“What do you want? I’m a bit preoccupied.” Logan was annoyed, that much was clear. Virgil was just able to make out his words, which made him feel even more guilty than he already was.

“Dude, you left right in the middle of a conversation. And said something about a hospital. We worried.” the concern in Nate’s voice actually seemed genuine, at least to Logan.

“I’m helping out a friend of mine, its-” Logan was promptly cut off by Virgil on the other end of the line.

“Logan! Go back to the meeting thing!” Virgil half-yelled into the phone, hoping that his friend would hear him. “I’m almost there anyway.” That wasn’t the full truth, but it was close enough to the truth that Logan wouldn’t mind anyway.

Nate looked down at Logan’s phone, then back up to the younger with a smirk. “And the friend agrees with me. Come on, tell ‘em goodbye and come back! Brian’s about to talk school stuff and by the looks of ya, you’d like that.”

“Go, Logan!” Virgil yelled again. Logan brought his phone back up to his ear for the second part of Virgil’s sentence. “Besides, a dude named Brian? That’s gotta be cool. He has your last name as a name.”

“Yeah, well, you’re more important,” Nate gave him a goofy smile, to which Logan responded by tearing the phone away from his face and saying, “Not like that, you, uh, you...”

“Buffoon?” Virgil supplied.

“Buffoon! Wait, Vee, what does that even mean?” Nate watched these two sortof interact with a happy glint in his eye. They were good friends. Even he could tell.

“Dunno. Now go.”

“Fine. Goodbye, Virgil. Please call me if you need more assistance. Text me when you get there.”

“Will do, Lo. Talk to you later.” Virgil’s grip on his phone tightened. They were doing the dance of who will hang up again.

“Good luck.” Neither wanted to do it. Logan wanted to provide support, while Virgil didn’t want to let go of familiarity and the comfort of Logan’s voice. But he had to.

“You too.” Virgil said with finality before removing the phone from his face and pressing the end call button. Just like that, his fate was sealed.

Not only that, but Virgil knew that his phone was dying. He didn’t have time to grab anything other than his sweatshirt. No charger, no change of clothes, no wallet, no earbuds, no nothing. Virgil took a look at the time, and his battery, before placing it in his back pocket again. No earbuds meant no music, and no music meant that his mind was free to wander.

This was not a good thing, despite what some people might think. Virgil’s mind wandering was never good. Now he had the chance to think over all the reasons why Roman hated him, and why he would definitely turn him away. Virgil walked on like this, pain in his upper arm and worrying thoughts in his mind. It took everything in his being not to think himself creepy for knowing the way. The boy had given the younger his address willingly at some point after their split. Virgil saved it, most likely because of the lingering hope in his heart. Soon enough, he would reach the one place he never thought he’d actually go: Roman Prince’s house.

next part

Shoutout to the amazing @lovecrazyjennybear! She helped me a ton with this chapter (specifically most of Logan and Virgil’s conversation), and even more chapters to come. You are an amazing beta reader and an even more amazing friend! (and writer, and editer, and all the ideas you have. you are amazing all around)

#fail’s writing #virgil sanders #logan sanders #roman sanders #patton sanders #sanders sides incorrect quotes #virgil angst #tw abuse #tw murder #so yeah you all get to hear my singing voice and see part of my face #cool

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