~~prologue~~

478 30 8
                                    

Virgil sighed as he finished his artwork. It was just a simple picture of the sun next to a barn, surrounded by the desert. It may seem like little to no work but the details were very meticulous. Every single thing was on point, just how Virgil liked it.

He was a simple man who did a simple job in his simple room, provided by the manager. It wasn't everyday that he drew something so... enlightening just like this painting.

The door squeaked open, revealing his 'dad', Patton. He wore a blue shirt and a light gray cardigan draped on his shoulders. A smile always present on his face (which sometimes unnerves Virgil).

"Heya, kiddo! How's the art going?" Patton said, sitting beside Virgil on his couch. Virgil scowled slightly as Patton moved a bit too close.

"Pat, a little space-"

"Oh, sorry kiddo. Just wanted to drop by and ask how my favorite artist is doing?" Patton cooed, making Virgil roll his eyes.

"I'm fine, if you really wanna know. I just gotta put a few finishing touches to this one," Virgil said, turning back to his work.

It was silent for a few moments as Virgil worked on his painting and Patton watching very closely. Patton, muttering a few suggestions on how to make it better, and Virgil taking it to consideration.

It was a peaceful day for the two until one person decided to barge into the room, Starbucks in hand and sunglasses up.

"Yo, Virge! I like, totally want you to join me later tonight," he stated, sipping his coffee. Virgil sighed as he got back to his work. "Remy, I don't think that would be such a great idea-"

"Of course it is. I plan to meet this dude I met while getting some coffee. Some kind of therapist I heard. Anyway, we're meeting up at the bar, y'know?"

"Can't you drag someone else? Like, I don't know, Patton?" Virgil asked, well more like begged for it.

"No can do, my bro. Patton doesn't drink, remember? Well, you don't but still, come with me please?"

"You owe this one, okay?"

Remy smiled and kissed Virgil's cheek, who just grimaced and wiped it away.

"Thanks, babe. Text you the deets!"

Virgil was going to regret it.

The Painter and His Model // PrinxietyWhere stories live. Discover now