Roommates - Prinxiety

Chapter 14.

-Virgil's POV-

I really hope Roman isn't there when I get back. I want to look through his things to find that freaking emotional support giraffe. I know, I said to my mom that's in invasion of privacy, which it definitely is, but I'm desperate at this point. There probably was a way less complicated way of figuring out this crap, but here we are.

My heart beats so fast all the way from the airport to my room. Patton probably noticed how anxious I am, but he never said anything. I feel kind of bad for putting him in that position. I'm such a wreck honestly.

My key misses the lock because my hands are shaking so much. "Fuck" I swear under my breath. I open the door slowly. It creaks slightly. I let out a sigh of relief, when I don't see Roman in there.

As my heart plummets down into my belly, I close the door and slide down onto the floor. A lump forms in my throat. Why was I so stressed about seeing him? Why does he affect me like does?

I don't want him to.

At least I don't think I do..

My phone buzzes. Patton sent me a message asking me if Roman's there. I write back that he isn't, and he sends me a sad faced emoji.

I know that's not how he's actually feeling, now that he's seeing Logan again. Unless Logan isn't back yet. I doubt he isn't though. The guy probably came back hours ago to get back to his work. That sounds mean, but it seems like something he would do.

I put my phone away and pull myself off the floor. I should probably look for the teddy bear now. Before he comes back. I really hope he doesn't come back before I find it.

My baggage is thrown on my bed, and I start my search. He said something about it being in one of his drawers I think. I honestly can't remember, but I might as well start there. I pull out the first drawer, which just contains some small clothing items.

But no giraffe.

I close it and proceed to look in the next one. No giraffe. I keep looking, making sure I leave everything the same as it was before. Where is that stupid giraffe?

There is one drawer left. My heartrate quickens and my hands tremble slightly as I open it. Behind a knitted sweater, I spot something furry against the back of the drawer. I reach out and my hands finds the neck of a giraffe.

I pull it out. It's old and used. The tag is still on and in vague green marker, I can make out the name Jeff written with a child's hand. It's wearing a purple bowtie and the left eye is scratched. It's exactly how he described it.

Exactly.

I drop the giraffe. It lands with a soft thump. I stumble backwards until my back hits the wall on the other side of the room.

I stare at the freaking giraffe that's just lying there. I take a couple of deep breaths, trying to calm myself down.

"Why am I freaking out over a giraffe?" I ask myself. "This shouldn't be such a big deal. What the fuck is going on with me?"

I hear someone walking in the hall and I rush over to pick the giraffe up. Please don't be him. Please, please don't be him. The sound passes the door and I'm clutching the soft toy so hard, my knuckles turn white. I let out a sound that's a mix of a sigh and a panicked gasp.

That could have been horrible.

I fix the giraffe's bowtie and his fur, so he looks nice when he goes back into the drawer. I can't help but wonder why he brought it with him. I'm guessing it has something to do with all the crap he went through as a child. And still goes through technically.

But the bigger question is, what the fuck am I going to do now?

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A shorter one, but I really like what I've been writing lately. And I've been really enjoying it. Now I just have to not get stressed about it and it will ruin the mood.

-Willow