Roses {Prinxiety}

A Yellow Rose

A yellow rose is dying love
Forever frozen in mid-bloom  

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WARNINGS: Hospital; Stroke; Coma; Death; Funeral

Also, I put the translations to what Roman was saying in Spanish in  the comments.

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Point of View: Roman, First Person
Timeline: Present Day

I smiled as Virgil let out a laugh, such a rare thing for him.  He never let himself feel too deeply, and I loved that I was one of the people he chose to let into his heart, one of the people he made the exception for.

"I was mortified," Virgil said once he'd caught his breath.  "I mean you just jumped up on a table and started singing!"

"Most powerful form of persuasion," I winked.

"Geez... how old were we when that happened?" Virgil asked, trying to think back to all those years ago.

"28, 29," I answered, waving a hand.  "We really should've written these memories down - evidence of our great triumphs!" I said dramatically, hands swinging in the air.

Virgil smirked at me, rolling his eyes as he leaned back in the bed.  He'd changed quite a bit since we'd first met.  His hair was no longer dyed purple, or red, or some other color, but now it's now natural dark gray.  He still had his trademark bangs though, and a dyed-purple shirt.

"When's Ollie coming over again?" Virgil asked me.  "It's been forever," he pouted.

I rolled my eyes.  "He was just here yesterday."

"That was forever ago," he pouted and I couldn't help smiling at him, shaking my head.  He reminded me so much of Patton...

Virgil and Patton had gotten along really well over the years, the best of friends up until Logan's death five or so years ago.  Poor Patton had shortly followed only a couple months later, but they both lived long lives, happy together.  

Both their death's so close together had been rough for Thomas, but all he needed was some time to get back on his feet.  All of us surrounded him, along with some of his closest friends - Joan and Talyn - to help him through...

"Hey, Ro," Virgil said, snapping me out of my thoughts.  "Can you grab me my notebook?" he asked, wincing as he tried to reach for it himself, notebook an arm length or so out of his reach.

"No worries, Pretty Purple Boy," I winked, hobbling my way over as fast as I could without falling.

Virgil could still walk, but he's already fallen a couple times and since then he's been forced to either be pushed around in a wheelchair or stay in bed all day.  Most times he chose the latter, and stayed with him, keeping him company.  It was a simple life, but we'd done enough adventuring for a lifetime.  Now we were getting too old to be as adventurous as we used to, the both of us in our late seventies.  It was simple, and for the first time that was nice.

Gosh, had we really met 50 years ago?

"Ro... Roman," Virgil was saying.  "The notebook?" he reminded gently.

"Oh," I flushed continuing on my way towards the notebook.  As I had gotten older, my imagination had grown more... wild, and it was easier for me to start drifting off into my own little world.

"Where do you go?" Virgil asked, as I finally handed him the notebook.  "When you drift off in your head like that? Sometimes I want to come with you, just to see what you see."