Buncha Sanders Sides one-shots

Cry

Word count: 636
Paring: Implied Prinxiety
Warnings: Crying. A lot of crying. Self-indulgent self-doubt. Swearing. Kind of hurt/comfort. Actually ends okay. Logan is kind of a dick when he talks too much but it's just implied.
****

Roman simply wasn't feeling up to being creative after the first two insults that Logan threw at him. Whatever. I'll get over it.

He trekked down a weird, distorted path. Clearly, Roman was the only one to ever walk down that hall. It's familiar. These decaying walls are the perfect place for me to sit as I struggle to think of what I've gained today. The glitched floor degraded into a cliff, that I believe doesn't end. Falling forever. How funny. Letting my legs dangle off the ends of the weird space between two rooms. It certainly wasn't safe, but who cares about that? I'm suppose to like danger or something like that. I can't remember. It's all blurred together. I'm talking to myself.

"No. you're not talking to yourself," something from beyond the cliff's edge. On the other side.

"Oh. Which one are you? If it's Logan I swear to god I will fall down this pit," Roman threatened, venom oozed from his voice. Logan was not allowed to ruin this place for him.

"Take a chill pill, Princey," the persona sounded very matter-of-fact. "It's Virgil. Logan can't even come over here without being corrupted. This is the border between our vicinities,"

"Oh," was all Roman was able to say as he drifted off into thought. If Thomas gets hurt, it's my fault. It's my fault. How do I own up to Thomas getting seriously hurt? I'm no prince. I'm an idiot who likes to dress up.

"Princey!" Virgil yelled, snapping the creative trait out of his thoughts. "Your eyeshadow is rivaling mine and you're not even over here with me. What's going on?"

"Oh it's nothing I'll get over it," Roman hummed, squeezing his eyes shut. It's not fine I know that but I don't want any help. I don't want to embarrass myself in front of him. It's stupid this is stupid. Fuck this. I want to do something -- I want to be something. I want to change. I want to reinvent time and space but I don't know where or how to start. I-

***

Virgil leaned against the weird brick-red-but-not-really wall, observing Roman's actions. He's definitely not okay but what-oh. Logan had clearly caused this. Whether he knows it or not, the logos oriented trait had placed anxious and rational questions into the creative sides head and those don't just dissipate from a simple visit to the cliff in between the creative and anxious mine space. He's crying. He's hurting. He needs help. Virgil snapped his fingers and successfully made it to Roman's side of the cliff.

"Hey, Roman," Virgil whispered, trying not to startle him. "I'm right here. It's going to be okay,"
Virgil reached out to hug Roman and smiled a little when Roman responded and buried his head into the anxious persona's black hoodie.

"It's okay to cry once in awhile, Princey. It's okay to be vulnerable," Virgil murmured, which seemed to make Roman cry harder.

***

Roman sniffled as he looked up at Virgil. "I ruined your jacket..." he mumbled, his face hot with embarrassment, emphasizing not only his freckles, but the tear tracks from openly sobbing on Virgil. "I'm sorry for bothering you, Virgil,"

Virgil saw me like this, like a wreck. Oh god what's he going to think? What if he makes fun of me? Or worse what if he hates me? Or both?

"Don't apologize. Sometimes you need to cry. That's okay, Princey." Virgil responded quietly.

Roman doesn't quite know what happened after that. He could assume that crying had exhausted him and he passed out on Virgil, but it was as if time had melded together leaving him a state of pure blissfulness.

When he woke up, he found himself in his room, still clinging to Virgil for dear life.

"Thank you, Sunshine,"

I love you.

It's an understood thing (I love you too).