Sanders Sides One-shots

Carved (OTP - Prinxiety & Logicality) [2/2]

Ship: Prinxiety and some Logicality as a side ship.

TW: Brief mention of blood (Lol, I've summoned Angst Queen™ again)

Oh c'mon guys. Don't look at me like that. I'm not THAT mean. Did you really think I'd just leave it?

However, just cause I'm doing a part 2 doesn't mean I'm gonna make it damn happy. PREPARE FOR ANOTHER PLOT TWIST BRATS! ANGSTY DEPENDING ON YOUR DEFINITION OF ANGST!

Will it work out? Will it be a happy ending or a bad ending? You'll have to see ;)

Note is at the bottom!

Previously...

Virgil's breath caught as he felt a sob lace itself with it. He noticed the tears fall from his eyes onto the page. Sob all he wanted, but the words were printed plainly in front of him.

"T-t-that... the feelings will almost never be requited...," His eyes trailed towards small text beneath it and he felt acidic bile rise to his throat, "The blaze flower will begin burning upon eye contact with the recipient of the victim's love. This will continue until the feelings are requited. Unfortunately, there is no known cure other than death."

And this. This was the effect.

Let's begin!

Why?

Why was it always him?

At first, he was the bad guy who suffered in the shadows. He was finally not the bad guy, but immediately, a new pain introduced itself.

Would he never get a break? Would he never be able to be happy? Would he never stop suffering?

He never asked to fall in love. He never asked for this.

He asked for happiness. Was that too selfish of him? Was he really that undeserving of it?

~~~~~~~~~~

Another day, another video, another interaction.

Another mask.

As usual, Virgil carried on through his day, a mask of nonchalance plastered firmly onto his face. He hid behind snarky comments, condescending smirks and the occasional contribution of negativity.

Since he slouched on a regular basis, no one found it strange to find him slightly hunched over when he was filming or when they were eating together. They assumed that it was just Virgil's thing and there was no use forcing him to change his habits. What they didn't know what that Virgil was actually using it as a disguise for the pain that trailed through his wound. He felt it pulsing, burning, swelling, stinging underneath his jacket and shirt. But all he could do was suffer in silence because it was his fault. His fault for falling in love. He deserved the punishment. And he refused to burden anyone else.

His presence was enough of a burden. There was no reason to make them hate him even more (cause they had to hate him. They were probably just acting nice).

The day had gone perfectly fine. Dinner was almost over and he could feel the back of his shirt clinging to his back, soaked completely in blood that had already begun drying. Thankfully, his jacket covered it.

He didn't let on a clue that he was in complete agony.

He didn't let on a clue that he had spent the whole day consciously fighting his eyes from tearing up.