Motorcycles and Lies (Anxceit)

Train of Thought

TW: Panic attack and mention of scratching oneself

Virgil walked into the building, the drab gray walls of his school not doing much to improve his mood. He hung his head low, not wanting to be seen today. As he stopped at his locker and set his backpack inside, he considered his options. Go to class and feel utterly comfortable or skip and risk having to abandon Patton because of a detention? Usually, letting Patton go home alone wouldn’t cross Vigril’s mind as a problem, but after the morning they had had, it was a hard no. It was close to the holiday break for Christmas and their mom did not take the fact that they would be home all day for the next two weeks well, despite it happening every year.

Virgil shook his head to rid him of his thoughts, not liking where they were headed. Today was the last day of school and was a mere half day. He could sit through it and maybe find a hill to relax with his brother that night to enjoy the incoming flurry of snow that was reported to happen that night. 

He grabbed his books and folders, the cheap, school-provided supplies not at all holding up this far into the year. He held the books close to his chest, his deep brown hair falling over his eyes, the dye from when he dyed it a few years ago at a friend’s house barely visible at the tips. He shivered at the memory that came with that and continued walked, believing that his thoughts would leave if he left the area. 

His first few classes went by just fine, Virgil mostly playing on his phone when he could, music playing in some earbuds even more often. Because of the shortened day, most teachers didn’t care about what they did as very few actually taught something productive. However, once his math class rolled around, Virgil laid his eyes on a Janus holding a purple bag that changed his mood. Purple was his thing, the gift couldn’t be for him, right? But Janus had no other friends. Well, that he was aware of. But they had been friends for nearly four months now, surely he couldn’t hide them for the long, right?

    His thoughts continued to race as Janus approached and handed him the bag, uttering words Virgil couldn’t hear through the faint buzz of panic in his ears. He took the bag with shaky hands and opened it, his mouth in a silent “O” as he gazed upon the new hoodie in his hands. He flipped over the back to see a large embroidered design of one of his favorite bands on the back, one he and Janus had gushed over many times before.

“To replace your broken one,” He finally heard from Janus’s mouth.

“T... Thank you,” he uttered, unsure of how to recover from his momentary panic. Janus tilted his head at him, his arm outstretched to lean against Virgil’s desk beneath him.

“Do you not like it? I can get something else on the back? Or something different if your jacket is too sentimental?” 

Virgil quickly shook his head, hugging the jacket close, “Thank you, I like it.” He quickly put his normal persona back on, it only having slipped for a few seconds in actuality. 

Janus smiled proudly at his gift, ruffling up his hair with his other hand. A look of panic overtook Virgil once more, “I didn’t get you anything,” his tone was soft and defeated, more and more dawning on him how he couldn’t return the favor. He had no money for a gift and no skills to make anything homemade. Would a simple “thank you” suffice? Janus didn’t seem like the material type, but maybe he was still hoping for something? 

His mind ran a mile a minute, his fight-or-flight reflexes on overdrive. He loved the gift with every fiber of him, it was his only physical gift in years, and yet he has nothing to give back. His shame flew over him like a dark blanket of horrible emotions, so much so that he left the room in a hurry, running to the bathroom. The last few students filtering into classes covered up his actions, and he ran into a bathroom stall. He sat on the toilet, bringing his legs up so his feet could rest on the closed seat so nobody could look under the stalls and see him. His body was wracked with sobs, tears never falling due to Virgil having learned how to control that part of his body long ago. His hands gripped at his hair, lightly tugging in an effort to stay grounded and not begin scratching himself. 

He breathed in and out, in and out, counting his breaths as he did so to keep himself stimulated and grounded. He reached a point where his mind was no longer clouded by fear and breathed an unstable sigh of relief. There was no going back to math now, but he could not care less, the teacher would probably forget to take attendance anyway. Virgil’s mind wandered back to the need to return the favor and that led him to remember the weekend a few weeks ago with the prank phone call. Could his gift be a free date invitation? Virgil had no doubt he could plan a date but actually get over his nerves and ask? Giving your number in a friendly sense was far different from this, and even then, Virgil was surprised he had the courage to do that. Could he really ask a boy out?

A/N
Yay! Got a new chapter done but it is 11:12 pm and I wrote the whole thing in an hour and thirty minutes. Also, for those who are curious, I live in the US so all school info will be US school related.