pretty things are meant to be ruined

and I remember the fear in your eyes

It was summer, the sun so bright it was blinding. Roman loved summer, but he hated this feeling of dread. It's been months since he saw Virgil, which he thought was good. With everything that has gone on with the Russians and the starcourt mall burning down. Roman cringed at just the mention.

He sighed, setting down his water pot. He'll water the plants later, but for now? He should go on a drive. He hopped into the car and started driving. He didn't know where he was going, but something nagged at him to keep moving. Roman passed the Wheeler's and the burnt-down mall. He didn't stop until he was way passed Max's trailer and found himself parked right outside of Virgil's trailer. He saw Virgil's rusted old Camaro and one other car. Roman assumed it was his dad's.

He rubbed at his temples, regretting this the moment he got there. He's screwed if Virgil sees him. What would he even say? "Hey, it's the guy who I really really want to kiss! I know you've been ignoring me since we danced!" Roman groaned at how stupid he sounded. Maybe he should just turn back, it's not like Virgil is ever at his house anyway. If anything, he's in an alley getting high.

Roman started the car, just about to turn around when the glass shattered. He squealed, whipping his head towards the sound. Virgil was laying on the ground, blood dripping from his forehead. Standing over him was some random senior from their precalculus class. Roman hands tightly gripped the steering wheel. He kicked his door open.

The jock smirked, laughing at the sight of Virgil's bloody face. Virgil groaned in pain but stood up. No way was he going to let some asshat kick his ass, especially not in front of Roman. That's just embarrassing. Roman didn't seem to care though, stomping through Virgil's yard with a fire burning in his eyes. He kicked the senior down, making him land on his butt. He stopped laughing at the sight of Roman looming over him.

"You're going to listen to me, okay?" He bent down as if he was speaking to a small child. He grabbed the senior by the collar, pulling him up to his face. The guy gulped nervously. He silently prayed to any god out there that Roman Blake was not about to beat him up. He's heard rumors that the guy has one hell of punch. He's never desired to know if the rumors are true. He nodded and didn't stop until Roman forcefully grabbed his face. "You are going to leave Virgil alone if I hear that you even dared to look at him the wrong way? I'll shove that glass up your fucking foot."

Behind Roman, stood Virgil, playing with the glass between his fingers while he glared at Roman's back and the jock's face. The jock didn't respond, just stared wide-eyed at the two boys who were threatening him. Roman scoffed and spat in his face. Roman dropped the guy, who ran off the moment he could. "I had that, Roman." Virgil hissed in pain when he tried to move. Roman dropped everything he was holding, which was just the glass.

"Are you okay? How bad is it?" He asked, rushing to grab Virgil's hand. "Stay here, I have an emergency kit in my car," Roman said, running to his car. Virgil laughed a little.

"Why do you have an emergency kit everywhere you go?' He asked, brown eyes gleaming. Roman didn't respond but smiled. Virgil deserved to be happy, even in a moment like this. He hummed, searching through his messy trunk.

"Aha! Found it!" he cheered, dragging Virgil into his own house. Roman didn't know Virgil's house that well, he had only been there three times. All three times were because he was hosting a party. He sat Virgil down on the torn couch. "Are there always this many beer bottles in your house?" He mused, cleaning the cut on Virgil's nose.

Virgil chuckled a little, hissing slightly when Roman, who mumbled a sorry, finished cleaning the first cut. "Yeah, Old man likes to drink more than I do." He replied, making Roman glare in a disapproving manner. Virgil studied Roman's face, he wasn't sure what he was looking for, but he knew that he wanted to stare at Roman's blue eyes a little longer.

"Have you always had the cut on your eyebrow?" He asked, making Roman stop cleaning off the dried blood. He felt his heart drop at the mention of the scar. He thought back to his losing fight with the Russians. There was no way he would ever be able to tell Virgil about that.

"Uh, no. I think I hit my head on something a few days ago, because it just randomly showed up," He scrambled to make up a believable lie, smiling nervously. Virgil didn't believe him, but thankfully he didn't say anything. The two sat in comfortable silence as Roman finished wrapping up the last cut. "Well, You are all fixed now. I should go back to my house, I probably have a whole gang of people worried about my whereabouts."

Virgil frowned, tearing his eyes away from Roman's. "Oh. I was hoping you could stay, and we could maybe watch the breakfast club?" He asked, smiling when he saw Roman's eyes light up at the mention of his favorite movie.

"They can wait a little longer," he hummed hopping onto the couch with Virgil. Virgil laughed, laying his head against Roman's chest. He closed his eyes and enjoyed the few moments of silence he'll get.