*KALSOFNT*
ahem
AU
—
The orange glow from the setting sun spread across the street Virgil looked down upon from his balcony. His head resting in his arms covered in long, thick, stitched sleeves, a jacket he made for himself a little over a year ago.
With the crisp winter air ruffling through his dark brown locks, spreading through and against the short, freshly cut grass below, Virgil was at peace, watching his little brother and step-little brother play together in the front garden, wooden swords in hand, loud, high-pitched voices yelling out words of a pirate, his Mother and her newly wed husband watching on with gentle smiles, sometimes turning to chat to each other mindlessly.
Sighing, his breath floated away, visible with the cold air.
Eyes almost as black as night scoured the land below, narrowed and poised, wanting to catch a glimpse of white and red.
He would be lying to himself if he were to say he wasn't trying to find Roman, but he didn't want to admit it, nor did he fully understand why. Before his Mother married Roman's Father, all Virgil knew of him was he was self-centred, arrogant, creative, a theatre nerd, and was friends with the bullies.
He and his two friends put him along with the other people they should not communicate with. The day Virgil found out about his Mothers marriage to the Father of Roman, he was mad, and scared.
'What ifs' ran through his mind each night, clogging his throat up, shallow and sharp breaths bringing little to no oxygen to his lungs, the panic increasing with each second, it made him terrified of the outcome, that somehow Roman would make his friends target him, Roman would blackmail him, would...make his life hell!
But...the first day Virgil lived in this house, he saw a side to Roman no one saw before.
His compassion, his tender care to those who need it, his love for romance, and his protective side.
Virgil didn't know which one he liked the most, but it truly made him believe in the phrase "never judge a book by its cover" because it was very much true - especially in Roman's case.
Heck, Virgil didn't know Roman was gay! He just assumed Roman went around with girls, only in it for a quick fuck, but it couldn't be more than the complete opposite. The way he treats each girl he meets is one to be admired, as if each were a goddess, deserving endless respect, which he never failed to give. Unless, of course, they were to hurt someone else first.
Then his respect is cut short.
Now that Virgil pays more attention to it, he can see why Roman never really hangs around with girls in school, because he wants to keep his high stance in the social ladder, his reputation almost as important as his grades at this point.
Although, Virgil could see why.
The more time he lived here, the more time he noted how his Father cared for Roman's little brother like he was his only child, and deserved endless care attention, while Roman was shoved to the back, not truly knowing if his Father even loved him.
Roman needed attention, and if it weren't from his Dad, it would be from school.
Fluttering open, Virgil's eyes focused on the tree a little ways away from his balcony, holding a nest full of chirping baby birds.
With little to no conversation held between he and Roman, Virgil suddenly wanted that to change.
Of course, he's been nervous about Roman since he'd moved in, and he still was, but if Roman's hidden side came out, Virgil was sure it wouldn't be hard to hold a conversation with him.
Slowly, his body rose from the chair he sat upon, clicks from his bones sounding around him, making him sigh out in content. Closing the balcony glass door, his fingers left the cold see-through panel, legs carrying him across his rather large room to the door. At this time, he knew Roman to be hanging out in the back garden, practicing with his sword he was given at age thirteen, just three years ago, if Virgil were to be correct.
Gliding down the stairway, his eyes lingered on the open front door, catching a glimpse of his siblings and smiling just a little bit. He was happy his baby brother finally had a friend his age.
Meandering through the maze-like house, he found himself standing in the kitchen, the door opposite leading to the back garden that stretched like the size of a field.
Roman's Father was definitely quite wealthy.
Stepping by the sink filled with pots and pans, dirty from their earlier dinner, Virgil's cold hand wrapped around the golden-coloured metal doorknob, twisting slowly, the door cracked open, the orange glow from the outside world streaming in. Closing it behind him to keep in the cat Roman's younger brother owned. Virgil rested his hands in his deep jacket pockets and skipped up the four steps to the path lined with small bushes of purple flowers, cutting off into paths either visible or hidden by trees that looked over them, making it mysterious to walk through, as if you were in a fairy tail, the soft glow from the sun shining through the gaps of the leaves.
But this evening Virgil wasn't exploring, he was finding Roman, which he did after following the longest path, leading directly to the bottom of the garden, a hedge wall with a tall, green metal gate parted open halfway, the sound of soft grunts coming from within.
Moving to stand beside the gate, Virgil's eyes finally found what they were looking for, the boy dressed in white and red.
Sword in hand, he stabbed the air around him, techniques he learned as a young child being perfected as much as humanly possible.
He wanted to speak, yet he didn't know what to say, but a part of him was content with watching the way he moved, body flexing and tensing with each jab of the sword, facial expression contorted to one of deep concentration, eyes narrowed, eyebrows creased, lips in a tight, curled downward line.
Roman pulled back the sword from the imaginary enemy, his body twirling around halfway to stab the thick, tall tree behind him, the point of the sword going through the bark just a bit, letting Roman lean on the handle a little, chest heaving with pants that escaped his mouth in short, clouds of white.
"Finished?"
Virgil's voice broke the silence, but he made sure to keep it soft, not wanting to make the boy jump.
Roman didn't move for a few seconds, tugging the sword from the tree and slowly turning to face Virgil, running a hand through his hair which involuntarily pulled his head up, both their eyes caught in each other's strong gaze, holding silent words.
"Why?" Roman plunged the top of the sword into the soft ground, leaning against it. "Does the emo nightmare wish to lean against the tree, listening to rock music while staring into the sky and wishing for something he can't have?" Roman teased, but his expression held something else. Not taking his childish behaviour to heart, Virgil stepped closer, shrugging.
"I have everything I need" was his simple reply, silencing Roman who huffed, sliding the sword into the holder attached to the belt wrapped fittingly around his waist.
"Well, aren't you lucky"
Virgil's arm shot out, stopping the taller boy from leaving the hidden part of the garden. Rolling his eyes, Roman took a step back, watching Virgil close the gate, rattling against the lock.
"Is there anything you want?"
"Are you okay?"
"I-what?" Roman tilted his head, expression closed off. Virgil could almost see the walls Roman built around himself raising with every second, so he had to be quick.
"If you're not happy with the life you have right now, why don't you do something?" Virgil hazard a guess at Roman's stance upon his life, but even if what he said wasn't true for Roman, Virgil knew Roman didn't like the way it was going now.
Scoffing, Roman's arms crossed over his chest.
"Hm? And how would I do that?" Roman condescendingly asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Talk to him? He's your Dad"
Letting out a laugh, Virgil could hear the broken edge to it, the force he had to put in to try and laugh, and it wasn't even real in this situation. Virgil wondered how hard it was for Roman to actually laugh.
"You don't think I've tried? Virgil, you have the luxury of having a caring dad, who is still alive, I have no one-"
"That's not true"
"Name the people who care" Roman raised his voice, the walls surrounding him cracking and chipping, crumbling at the edges as Virgil stepped closer, eyes set with determination.
"I do"
Silence.
Licking his dry lips, Roman in all honesty wasn't expecting that answer, he assumed he would try and tell him his Dad cared, and his mom does, when he doesn't even know his Mom, and he definitely knows his Father doesn't.
Blinking, Roman glanced at the setting sun just over the wall bushes, Virgil staying in the corner of his eyes, although he was the only thing he concentrated on most.
"Well, thank you"
"Don't think you're alone, those "friends" of yours in school? They aren't good enough, you can hang out with me, my friends would love you"
Roman stepped forward, the two boys closer than they realised, eyes level with height.
"I know you want to mean something to someone else, and you do"
A soft smile swept across Roman's lips, resting there as Virgil joined him to smile, too.
"This is very kind of you" Roman admitted, scratching his neck. "Why?"
Shrugging, Virgil tugged his sleeves over his hands. "It's what friends do"
Roman smirked, "Oh? You don't see me as a brother?"
A chuckle. "I never saw you as a brother!"
"I'll be honest, neither did I"
"Besides, friends can become something brothers can't..."