Vergil's nail tapped the glass box. His ants were used to it and reacted none, going on their merry way through the tunnels traced while some dug new ones.
He glanced through the glass and at the clock beyond. Twenty minutes until his classes started. He straightened up his back and opened his drawer, exposing his collection of bugs kept in tiny glass containers.
They came with each new number of a newspaper his mother subscribed to. She didn't even read them, it was only for Vergil's collection.
He started wiping them one by one and staking them on the desktop. Once they were all nice and clean, he started putting them back in alphabetical order.
Five minutes until class.
Vergil stood up and looked at the mirror on his closet. He pulled the brown spotted shirt out of his black pants, and rolled up the sleeves as to no longer fumble with them constantly. He unbuttoned the thin, green cardigan of a soft, thin material and dully wondered if his mother bought it from the women's section.
Again.
He shook his head and ruffled up his hair some more, but it kept falling back in place since it was soft. With a sigh, he darted his bag over his shoulder and calmly went to the door. After opening it, he made himself stumble all the way to the kitchen, where he gripped the doorframe and sighed long.
"Why didn't you wake me up..." he trailed off, meaning to sound as dead as possible.
He was pretending he did take his pills.
There he was, looking like shit with his slumped back and ruffled attire, and his mother was grinning ear to ear as if he just won some Nobel prize.
"Took your pills, Vergil?"
That was his mother's version for the daily 'good morning'.
"Yes."
She wiped her hands on a cloth and then darted it aside, shaking her head. "I told you to eat breakfast before taking them or you'll feel bad!"
"I feel bad either way." he murmured and finally entered, only to discreetly place a knife back in its spot in the knife holder. It'd been buzzing him for the last minute.
"If you didn't pause the treatment all the time, you'd get used to it already."
"Used to feeling bad? Bored? Unmotivated? Uninterested? Dead?"
"Yes!" she sketched a tired smile. "That's what normal teenagers go through. Your pills are making that happen."
"Stevo and Ethan aren't like that."
"They are, but they each learned to cope with it differently. Stevo goes partying and does a bunch of stupid stuff, Ethan paints. They're things that give them energy, a spark. You just have to find your own."
Ethan lowered his eyes, inching to play with his sleeves but unable to.
"And take your pills."
<><><><><><><>
"Did you take your pills?"
Vergil resisted the urge to snap, since the drugs he was supposed to be on would've prevented that. "Yes, Dudan. Nice dress, by the way."
He would've never dared say that sober.
She didn't smile. Vergil would've thought it was the thing he said, but she just seemed distracted by the agenda she was holding in her nicely manicured hands.
"No, really." she sighed. "I need to know your state of mind before starting to talk so that I can approach you accordingly."
Vergil looked at each flower in the room (and there were a lot). Their pots each matched a different thing in the room: the brown flowery wallpapers, the burgundy carpet, the white furniture, the black window frame-
"Vergil."
He sheepishly rolled down the sleeves of his shirt, then the sleeves of his cardigan to play with them.
She nodded in understanding and sighed. "Well, then. I'll try to make this easy on you."
He looked up with a pout. Today they were supposed to talk about girls, and it didn't sound like good news so far.
"Tell me once more about Mister Janitor."
Vergil coughed dryly. Dudan waved to the glass of orange juice she'd have ready for him each session.
He took a few gulps and then placed the glass back precisely on the slim circle of water it'd left on the wood.
"I thought... I thought we were going to talk about..."
"Yes, that's the problem." she placed the agenda on the desk and turned it so that Vergil could read. The first time ever, too. Her long, bloody-red nail tapped one of the rows of scribble.
"You were saying how your heart ached, your chest felt empty..." she tilted her head. "And then girls were like foreign insects- see, you got them mixed up."
Vergil searched the words but only saw them for what they were, not their meaning. He couldn't decipher anything, far too panicked. "I- I'm sorry, I didn't..."
"It's not your fault, it wasn't a quiz. It's something we can fix, honey."
Vergil shook his head, trying to take deep breaths. "Fix? Mixed? I mixed- I can't possibly? You mean I?"
"Yes, what you feel for the janitor is pretty much love." she straightened up, arranging her white flowery dress. "It's great that we brought that to observation, now we'll be able to fix you. Don't worry, this is funny more than anything!" she laughed lightly. "Your poor tiny heart... ha... haha... Panick Patrick?"
She picked up a toxic-green fluffy plushie that represented a hippo. Vergil clawed it into his arms and squeezed, breathing into the fluff. "Love? Are you- no! It's horrible! It feels like I'm having a fever when I see him, it feels like I want to run, it-"
"That's love, Vergil honey."
"No! It's horrible! What's wrong with you people! How can you just!" he squeezed harder, feeling light-headed. He reached with a hand into his backpack and took out a tiny container. After popping a pill, he gulped it down with orange juice and waited for his breath to slow down.
"Is there some pill? I'll take it, I promise I will!" he eyed her desperately, searching her eyes.
She pouted. "Oh, sweety..." she trailed off. "Don't worry, now. Just avoid him, don't think about it. Meanwhile, let's do a fun game, okay?"
She took out three fashion magazines from her drawer and displayed them. "We'll find out your type of girl! Doesn't that sound fun?"
Vergil was still hiccupping for breath. He gawked at the covers and nodded, fluff gathering between his fingers from how much he was clenching the thing.
"Right... Right..."
<><><><><><>
Vergil liked tall, skinny blondes.
Now, that might've had something to do with the fact that fashion magazines consist 70% of just that. The other 30% were tall, skinny brunettes.
He sighed shakily, watching the tall, skinny blond before him. Tall as in 6''3, 190 cm, walking tree sort of tall. Skinny as in the faded blue jumpsuit barely hanged off his frame sort of skinny. Blond as in... the blond Stevo's hair was when he'd bleached it before turning it blue. A few strands here and there were gray-brown, some where sandy while others were just... in-between.
What out of all that was attractive? Why was Vergil feeling hot and weak and shaky, in 'love', and why was it considered so damn awesome that people made movies about it and wrote songs about it? It felt like he was literally dying.
"Vergil? You still between the living?"
Vergil flinched out of his... stalking process, pretty much, and looked at his friends. They all shared computer science class.
Yes, the janitor was present during their computer science class. That was due to the fact he had many functions in the school: cleaner, repairman, security guy, and he also watered the plants!
Since he proved himself to be qualified for them all, he got all the jobs and pay-checks. He wasn't the only one in each category, but he was the only employee of the school that did them all simultaneously.
Must've meant he was the only employee of the school that didn't have a family. In fact, he lived in the students' dorms.
"Dude. Seriously."
"Yes, sorry, what were you saying?" Vergil eyed Stevo and Ethan. All three of them were sitting at one desk.
"I was just rambling about how I made out with a guy." he squinted. "No biggie."
Vergil had to do a double take over what he'd say. Even so... "What?"
Stevo rolled his eyes, Ethan did too.
"I was high on coughing syrup. Strawberry." he grinned. "And this guy jumped me and I was like 'What would Stevo do', you know? And so then I yelled-" and he stood up, holding up his signature rock signs. "You see what I mean? Punk rock!" his voice rang through the classroom, stealing everyone's attention. "And dived right back into it."
He sat down, mimicking slurping noises that must've been a recreation of the makeout.
Jeremiah Lidson, would you kindly control yourself before I kick you out of my class?" the teacher, Linda, asked with a raise of the eyebrow before returning her attention to the janitor. "Some people need to focus."
Stevo shook his head. "Yeah, like the way she's focusing on the guy's dick." he mumbled under his breath. "Jeremiah, who the fuck is that, I'm Stevo."
Vergil glanced there for a second, observing how she kept placing her hand on top of the janitor's as to control the mouse. The janitor didn't seem to mind, but he was kind of ignoring her entirely.
...Wasn't he? Well, she was twice his size... But maybe he liked that. She had the shapes.
"But yeah, it's not like it's the first time it happened. Haha. Things get wild at those gigs, I'm telling you, once the roof caught fire.
(RIP people lost in the fire of a heavy metal gig in my country's capital. ~50 deceased, hundreds in critical state)
Ethan sighed. "You're gross."
Vergil shook a little in his skin. Didn't move an inch, but he felt himself stir.
"Um... Is he?"
His friends' heads turned his way. Vergil glanced out the window that covered the entire upper half of the far wall, taking in the swaying trees.
"Sociability education time!" Stevo announced with a clap and the most bitter smile. "Being gay isn't all too cool because some invisible dude up in the sky says so. Good people, those who worship said entity, kindly throw rocks and piss on the gay and call them gross!" he gawked at Ethan during that last part.
Ethan scoffed. "I'm not a homophobe. I just don't want to hear about you swapping saliva with someone as equally unhygienic as you."
Stevo sniffed at his armpits indiscreetly. Vergil scratched the back of his ear, glancing downwards.
"How old even was he?" Ethan snapped.
Stevo smiled thin, tucking his chin into his neck and covering his lower lip with the very tip of his hand. "Maybe twenty-six."
Ethan gagged dryly. "That's nearly thirty!"
Vergil covered his forehead with a hand, peeking at the janitor's graying hair and deeply craved lines under his eyes. He cleared his throat to get rid of the nod in it. Now that he let himself observe him some more, he noticed tattoos on his fingers, knuckles, and some more black peeking from under his sleeves.
...
The bell rang and he stood right up, leaving the classroom in a hurry.
He should've known better than to think he'd get away that easily. Stevo and Ethan were right by his sides in a matter of moments, still arguing about Stevo's homosexual tendencies.
"Whatever. I'm off to art class. See you." Ethan concluded.
"Not if I see you first, tiger!" Stevo threw himself on Ethan and started pecking his cheek. Ethan sighed and struggled out of his grip before walking away.
His head bounced high through the crowd of students. He had to be one of the tallest in school, and his curly hair only added to the impression.
Whenever he'd watch him from afar, Vergil wouldn't see him as his friend. It was just seemingly impossible for someone so charismatic and sociable to want to do anything with Vergil.
And when he saw him shake hands with some guy of his own kind, tall and handsome and with a grin to kill, Vergil looked away, sighing.
"Stevo, wait..." he gripped his sleeve to keep him from running into a group of girls. The guy turned to face him, head cocked. His rag of an overused backpack rustled and even tore a little, audibly, with the movement.
"Would you join me to the bathroom?"
Stevo pursed his lips. "You don't use public restrooms."
"Just... would you?"
Once they got inside the nearest bathroom, Vergil opened the second door that led to the toilet cabins. He checked underneath the stalls, and did find a pair of shoes. He sighed and returned to the sinks room, where Stevo was checking himself out.
Vergil leaned on one of the sinks but his posture was awkward so he stood up. He violently played with the sleeves of his green cardigan, trying to find the right words.
When the stranger exited the stall, Vergil and Stevo stupidly watched him wash his hands, Stevo even more stupidly so. He kept his eyes wide and round and was approaching the guy inch by inch.
"Freak." he murmured and left.
Vergil let out air he didn't realize he was holding. Just... strangers did that to him.
"'Poser'." Stevo quoted Stevo, still in the position from before. Hunched, eyes wide, eyebrows up. "So then." he turned and faced Vergil. "Do I get to tighten your bra now or..."
Vergil tsked, crossing his arms tight over his chest. Enough for his muscles to start aching from the effort. He could tell it was the beginning of a mild spasm session.
"Dude."
"Shut up for a second." Vergil took a deep breath, nails digging into his upper arms. "I'll just say it." he sighed. "I'll say it as it is... I'll..."
It took him long enough for yet another guy to enter the bathroom, pee, wash his hands, and leave. All the while Stevo stood staring at Vergil, who stood shaking randomly.
"Really? Just say it man, what could go wrong, I'm your friend."
"No, yeah, I..." Vergil cleared his throat. "I like someone and want you to kiss me so that I..." know if I do like dudes or not "...so that I know how to kiss. If we date. I mean apparently it isn't too gross for you to kiss boys so I thought-"
Stevo burst into laughter. Well, it could've gone two possible ways and laughter was the one Vergil preferred.
"Aw man. Okay cool that was like half an hour wasted. Listen, kissing girls is-" he laughed some more, rubbing his nose. "Is entirely different from kissing guys, okay? If I were to kiss you, that wouldn't make you know your way around a girl. It's- it's something you have to do with a girl... to get the hang of it, yeah?" his grin just wouldn't crack one bit. "Aw how funny, you awkward thing!"
Vergil shook his head and walked to the sink, meaning to grip it- but it was a public bathroom and he hated germs. Instead he kept his hands raised for a moment, then let them slump down and turned towards Stevo once again.
"No, listen. I might... possibly like a guy, all right? Dudan says it's because of my Autism, I..." he spun his pointers around each other. "I don't understand too well, but I screwed up somehow. I just want to know if..."
"No, I get it." Stevo was finally no longer grinning. Instead, his black eyebrows were a little lowered. "Your shrink needs a shrink though, I just wanna slap her across the face."
"She means well." Vergil shrugged.
Stevo just rolled his eyes and took two steps closer. "So do I just do this or do you want me to..." he cocked his head and wiggled his shoulders a little. "Get into it."
Vergil's ears were red by then, his back to the wall. "I don't- I don't know..." he drew out the last word. "Stop talking it's embarrassing!"
The guy laughed and gripped his elbow, pulling him towards the door. There, he moved Vergil so that his back blocked the door from opening. Vergil rolled his shoulders until he was somewhat comfortable and risked glances up at his much taller friend, but couldn't hold his gaze for more than a second.
Two hands gripped his upper arms with gentle squeezes. It somehow soothed his nerves instantly, but only replaced the feeling with a sentiment entirely else. His cheeks heated up even more, and his heart calmed down in an unsettling sort of way... He was very confused.
Vergil risked to look up one last time before Stevo went in for the kiss. Vergil's back arched instantly, shoulders rising along with the hands around them. His eyes were wide open, wider than ever before, but Stevo moved away an inch.
"Close your eyes."
Vergil squeezed them close, as well as his lips by accident. Stevo pinched his lower lip and pulled it out, then resumed what he started.
Now, it was all too clear. Vergil could finally feel that foreign concept everyone blabbered about in songs, books, movies. What they called 'butterflies' in the stomach, he could tell he had them. Though he knew enough about butterflies, the insects themselves, to tell that having them in your stomach shouldn't be compared to giddiness.
After his arching back started shaking, he let himself slump entirely against the door, with Stevo following. The bluehead moved his arms around Vergil's waist, while Vergil kept his by his sides.
So then Stevo guided Vergil's arms around his neck and resumed the previous position. Vergil squeezed him in a death grip, tight enough to allow him the courage to start moving his own lips.
A smooch went heard, and it echoed ridiculously loud.
At that point Vergil pulled away and covered his face with both hands, trying to twist away from view, but Stevo's arms around him stopped that.
The bluehead laughed and snorted. "You weren't as bad as I expected."
Vergil huffed.
"You're even cute, took a lot from your mother. You could pass as a girl with makeup on, you know." Stevo squinted. "Yeah. Yeah, man, it shouldn't be a problem hitting on the guy."
He finally let go and Vergil let his hands down, playing with the sleeves. "I don't look like a girl."
"That cardigan was not in the male section."
"That doesn't make any difference nowadays."
"Right." Stevo nodded, a light smile on his face, eyes half-closed. "I say go for it. Who's the guy?"
"Doesn't matter-"
The door knocked into Vergil's back and he stumbled into Stevo, hands on his torso. He took a few steps away from him, scratching his head awkwardly, but Stevo only grinned and then looked at the person entering.
"Hello Mr. Janitor!"
Said man peeked his head in, glancing around the door to Vergil. "Sorry." his low, raspy voice said with a thick Norwegian accent.
Vergil's throat clenched tight, blocking his air, words, brain, heart. After seconds of Vergil just gawking, frozen, the janitor entered fully and placed an empty bucket under the sink. He turned a knob and water came pouring from a tube under the sink, splashing into the bucket.
Vergil looked helplessly at Stevo, who was making small talk with the man. Hell, the bluehead would make small talk with a lamppost were he to be waiting for a bus alone.
When the bucket was halfway filled, the man stood up to his full height, which happened to be overwhelming. Vergil had to tilt his head back in order to keep watching the strands of hair that had escaped the bun, and the two tiny holes above his eyebrow, the ink that peeked from behind his collar, on the back of his neck.
Then he left.
Stevo was chuckling at something the man had said. "He's so cool, that guy." he threw a thumb towards the door. "Anyway. Where were we? Ah, right, wanna try and suck my dick next or what."
Vergil's eyes popped out of their sockets. "Don't be like that."
"I'm joking around." he rolled his eyes and sneaked a finger into his nostril, picking away. "So are you gay or what."
Vergil let his eyes wonder to the tap underneath the sink, the one Mr. Janitor just used. It was leaking drop by drop, forming a tiny pool on the mouldy floor tile.
"Yeah. I am gay."
<><><><><><><><><><>
Sorry for late upload, get used to it darlings :(
Remember how I said my architecture classes were in the capital? I was there, at my brother's apartment, when the fire in that heavy metal club happened. My brother got invited to the gig, just didn't choose to go. If he had, he would've taken me with, and we would've been in the flames-
See, that's what I was talking about on my About Me section. It's stuff like that that can just... happen. You know. It's weird...