Prinxiety xox

Part 3

Quick disclaimer: these all take place in different au's...so like some of them we haven't met deceit or we don't know Virgil's name yet or whatever. Just letting ya know

Virgil checked his phone, the bright glow casting light across the purple room.
It was half past two...in the morning.
At least six hours before everyone else woke up. Perfect. Virgil slipped out of bed, not bothering about a dressing gown because it was a very sticky summers day-well, night.
He crept down the passage, careful not to make any noise. He had crept about the house so many times that he knew almost every single creak and squeak of the house.
He made his way to the conservatory, finally where he wanted to be.
He gazed for a moment at the glossy black piano, then sat down on the stool, resting his hands on the smooth ivory keys.
And he started playing.
He played "The Tempest"
It was his favourite to play, it carried so much emotion, it was like a storm out at sea.
He played with fury and passion, pouring everything he felt into the music.
He finished the song, the final note ringing out, the storm satisfied with the destruction it had created.

Roman couldn't sleep.
He'd been tossing around in bed for the last few hours, he was too warm and he wasn't tired.
He swung his legs out of bed, with the intention of getting something take at from the kitchen when he heard it.
Music.
Someone was playing the piano.
Roman stopped and listened for a moment. Whoever it was was playing "The Tempest" and playing it beautifully. Roman couldn't resist it. He got out of bed and followed the music to the conservatory. He stopped in the doorframe just as the song ended.
He looked at the piano...
His breath caught in his throat.
"Virgil?"
Virgil shot out of the seat like he'd been stung.
"Was that you playing?" asked Roman.
"No! I-uh-i just-i didn't mean to wake you up-I-it wasn't-"
Virgil was mortified, babbling away to cover up his embarrassment.
But Roman barely noticed.
Virgil wasn't wearing a shirt.
Romans heart was thumping so hard that he had probably broken several world records for fastest heart rate. He couldn't tear his eyes away from Virgil.
He was perfect.
He was slim, almost delicate, but toned, his arms were long and his hands were so small and they looked so soft. His legs, though covered somewhat by the shorts he had worn to bed, were long and lean and, currently, shaking.
Roman drew in his breath sharply and tried to interrupt Virgil.
"N-no! It was incredible! Where-where did you learn to play like that?"
Virgil blushed a deep scarlet, and Roman wanted to squeal when he noticed the scattering of freckles across Virgil's nose, usually hidden by makeup.
"I'm mostly self taught," he mumbled quietly.
Roman couldn't stand it anymore, he had to do something.

Virgil's brain was in overdrive, he was panicking and could hardly hear himself think.
He couldn't stop looking at Roman, who's eyes, the colour of mahogany wood flecked with gold, were gazing at him with such... admiration?
He stuttered out a few sentences, and tore his eyes down to his feet.
He swore internally when he realised he wasn't wearing a shirt.
The regal side took a step closer.
Virgil felt his blood pressure rising, he was a beautiful shade of crimson.
Roman traced a finger over the younger traits jawline, tilting his head upwards.
"R-Roman?"
Virgil could barely breath, his heart was in his mouth.
"Yes, my little music of the night?" replied Roman, his breath ragged and excited.
"W-what are you-"
His words were cut off by a passionate kiss. It took the edgy, flustered trait by surprise, but he melted into the kiss, his fingers curled around Romans hair, Romans hands draped around his shoulders, this was bliss, this was what heaven felt like, he wanted it to be this way forever.
When they stopped to take a breath, Virgil stared at Roman, panicked, his eyes full of tears.
"Stop playing with me Roman. Stop taunting me with what I can't ever have," he whispered, and he tried to pull away, but Roman held him tightly.
"You think I'm kidding?" Roman said, breaking away momentarily. His eyes were full of hurt. Virgil opened his mouth but found that he couldn't speak. Roman took a step towards him, taking his hand and squeezing it. "Virgil, you are all that I want. Every perfect bit of you. I'd be honoured if you'd accept me."
Virgil nodded, slightly shell shocked, and Roman pressed a kiss to his lips again, but it was gentler, softer. Kind.
"Still think I'm joking?" asked Roman again, and the breathless little emo gazed up at the older trait with a light in his eyes that Roman had never seen before.
"I believe you."
"Good," said Roman, brushing Virgil's hair away from his face. "I love you."
The younger trait smiled and blushed.
"I-I love you too."