Prinxiety and Logicality

Now and Forever (prinxiety)

TW: arranged marriage

1800s au

{Third Person POV}

Virgil ran, he ran to the exact spot he knew his lover would be. He felt the snow crunch underneath his steps as he ran, almost slipping face first into said snow as he did so.

He got to the spot, seeing the boy he loved so, sitting on a snow covered bench, a small notebook in his hand as he quickly wrote.

Just then he glanced up, seeing Virgil standing there, puffs of fog coming out of his mouth with each pant he let out from running so fast and far. He walked in long strides to the boy on the bench, who stood when he got in earshot, "Virgil-"

He got cut off just as fast as Virgil had ran to him, feeling the other connect his lips to his in a sweet, loving, and meaningful kiss.

He wrapped his arms around his waist, moving one hand up to the side of his face, Virgil putting one of his hands on his reassuringly, as if telling him everything would be alright, that past and future problems wouldn't harm them in any way.

That everything was alright.

Now and forever.

~

Virgil walked up to his friend of many years, seeing him happily swinging his legs over his stool under a tree. "Hello Roman." He greeted him, sitting on the stool next to his, "Good afternoon Virgil." He greeted, looking up from the small notebook he was previously writing in.

"What are you writing?" "Just a simple poem." He responded, going back to the page he was writing on.

"Well what is it?" He asked curiously, attempting to look at the writing in the page, "It's private." He said as he shooed his friend away. "Can I please take a look?" "No Virgil, you cannot." "Hm.. alright."

"Virgil?" Roman asked after a few moment of the two sitting in comfortable silence, "Yes?" "Do you know what it's like," he started as he looked up at the sunny sky above them, "to love?"

Virgil was taken aback at the question, "But Roman, you write poems about love, you know what it feels like." "I know what it feels to love but, I do not know what it feels like to feel love." His friend gave him a confused stare, not understanding what he meant.

"I mean, I know what it feels to love someone, but not to feel love in return." "You do not?" He shook his head, looking out at the field in front of them, looking at each little flower in the long grass. "Who is it that you love?" He asked, his voice much quieter and softer than he meant for it to sound.

Roman let out a chuckle, shutting his notebook, "That, Virgil, I cannot tell."

He stood and walked away, leaving the other to ponder over what he had just told and asked him.

"About your question," Virgil said as he sat next to his friend, who was now sitting on his bed, once again writing, "I do not know what it feels to be loved, but much like you I do know what it feels to love someone." "Really?" He asked, not looking up from his writing.

"Yes, although I am not completly sure on who it is I love." "I do know who I love." "Could you please tell me?" He asked, looking over at him, "No, but I can give you hints." "Could you?" He asked hopefully, "But of course."

He sat up straighter, shutting his notebook, "They're a friend of mine."

Virgil thought, who was a close friend of Roman's, who was also a girl? He had never actually seen his friend talk to any girls, beside his sister and mother of course.