"Confrontation" -A Prinxiety Fanfic

6

Word count: 1492

Virgil pov.
((Lorde here we go again.))

I roll my head to the side on my pillow. Mhm. My pillow feels dense, but it's still squishy enough that I know I haven't slept with my face burrowed into a couch cusion.

I flex my right hand stiffly, and I feel where I must have balled the fabric of my shirt into my fist for a while, and it resulted in creasing. I grab it and tug on it a bit, like I had done previously, enjoying the fabric's soft feel.

I lift my head and wake up a bit, groaning as I heard the title menu of beauty and the beast playing on loop.
Something clicks in my mind and I realize, if my pulling on the shirt isn't moving my shirt, then it isn't my shirt.
And there was only one other person on the couch with me.

I'm mortified at once. I open my eyes and my dreaded suspicion is confirmed. I was so close to roman that if I lifted my head anymore than it was now, mine would probably touch his. I glance down to see that my second suspicion was, unfortunately, confirmed, the tee-shirt I clung to was not my own. And my last, though definitely not least, horrific realization, was that in my sleep I had actually gone as far as throwing my leg over top of his, and part of his torso.

Ok, all we need is a nice ten seconds of calm, so you don't wake him.

My face burns as I slowly unwind myself from the position. His face was even, and he stayed asleep even as I moved away. I climbed over the arm of the couch and speed walked accrossed the living room, hoping to get to my room as soon as possible.

Once I get there, I shut the door behind me. Then I let myself fully process the situation. I was cuddling someone. That someone was Roman. But he didn't seem to have a problem with it. Then again, he was asleep. So he may have had a problem with it. Yea, he probably had a problem with me holding him down and being dead weight.

I allow myself a minute to freak out of the entire situation, and then calm myself down, with deep, even breaths.

There's a knock on the door. But obviously, why would fate allow it to be anyone other than the one causing me all of this inner turmoil.

"Hey, are you ok? The temperature in the living room just dropped almost twenty degrees, I swear. Its creepy. And when I looked around, you weren't laying by the arm of the couch like I remembered that you were." He asks as soon as I crack open the door. Haha, yea. More like he himself dropped twenty degrees.

Ok, so maybe he doesn't detest me for it. Not now at least, if he doesn't know.

"Oh, um. Sorry, I can't really explain the temp drop, but I left because I woke up and found out that my phone needed charging." I tell him, waving my phone around in hand.

Nice, quick thinking.

He eyes the phone, and then my seemingly innocent face. I'm careful to make sure my eyes aren't much wider than they usually are, or my lips pressed too flat together.

Casually. Just act casual.

I open the door a bit wider, motioning with my phone towards my bed.

"You can come in if you want, I guess." I tell him, walking away from my open door. I sit on my bed and plug my phone into a charger. I leave it on my nightstand and I grab out my laptop. I get on to YouTube and play some music in the background.

"So, watcha what?" I ask him calmly.
He shrugs in response.

"I don't know, you're the one that invited me in." He says. I turn to him as he sits on the foot of my bed.