"Confrontation" -A Prinxiety Fanfic

8

(continuation of previous chapter.)

Word count: 1320

Virgil's pov.

'But Thomas seems satisfied with Patton's input, and looks back and forth between me and Roman. I hate being the main focus of the the camera, so I hope Thomas will choose Roman first. And tonight, fate, or Thomas rather, seems to be on my side.

"Ok, Roman. You could give some insight on your view of love." Thomas chooses Roman, and I almost sigh in relief.

"Well, love is about a lot, but I think that a really important thing to remember is that, while grand guestures are nice and all, sometimes simple thing are just as good, or even better in some cases. Your love for someone, or their love for you, shouldn't be based on a location, or a number in a bank account. It should be free to love and be loved." He points out.

"And you should be allowed to love who you love. Love isn't a choice, its an instinct." Patton says.

"Actually-" Everyone hushes Logan.

"These are really good points. Thanks Roman." Thomas's tone is a bit dismissive. That means-

"How about you, Virgil?" He asks. I knew that was coming, but I was still hoping I would have a bit more time to prepare for possible questions. Either way, he put me on the spot, and I had no idea what to say.

"I- I, um," I stutter, and I'm sure my face has begun to heat up. I try and ignore it and stare right at Thomas, to block out the others. "Can you maybe give me an actual question to answer?" I finish, pulling my hoodie sleeves farther over my hands, untill nothing was visible accept the tips of my fingers.

"Ok, well, I'll ask and answer one for you. The anxious side of us may ask ourselves what went wrong, why we love who we do, what's wrong with us that makes us crave who and what from them that we do. Is this normal, is there really something wrong with you?" He asks himself, glancing towards me. I run my hand fiercely through my hair.

"This really is my personal hell then!" I growl at him, loud enough for everyone to hear. He ignores the comment.

"The answer is 'no'. We can't help who we're romantically attracted to. We can't even really control the thoughts that pop into our heads, the thoughts don't represent you, only how we react to them." He explains.

"Correct. A large portion of our thoughts are just our brains trying to process and comprehend what's around us, and possible future scenarios." Logan confirms.

"And it's not wrong to crave affection, emotionally, mentally, or physically. It's ok, and it's not wrong of you, and even more so it's just human nature to crave what we personally believe we can't have. But, realistically, it's not always true. Honestly, sometimes all we have to do to get what we want is to speak up." Thomas finishes before turning to me.

"Your turn." He says. His stare burns into my eyes. I send a hard glare back, hissing lowly under my breath. There was a message in that stare of his. Confess, it hissed, as I hissed back to him, confess.

"How about this, to you, what is love?" He asks. I nod a bit to myself with a frown, this was an easy question, but what is love to me?

"Well, I guess it depends on the situation," I start, seeing the loophole in my head. "There are many types of love. There's love for your friends, love for your family members, and love for yourself. There's platonic love and romantic love. And there's obviously a different between your love for your significant other, and your love for French fries." I  say, speaking as evenly as I can manage, and throwing in a joke.
Thomas nods at me.

"That's a good point. Sometimes these loves are more important in the moment than having a romantic partner, sometimes it's more important to love yourself before loving someone else. What's your view on that?" Another easy one, thankfully.

"I..." I tilt my head to the side. "I actually really agree with that," I admit, shoving my hands in my pockets. "If you can't manage to love yourself, how are you supposed to commit to a relationship?" I ask rhetorically, my voice was much more sad than I meant for it to be. I shrug. Thomas opens his mouth to say something, and Roman's voice interrupts.

"Because even though those loves are important, your love should help you better love yourself. You should help make each other better people. They are your best friend, your protector, your therapist," he stares straight into my eyes.

"They should be your personal pillow anytime you're tired, your shoulder to cry on when you just can't take what's bothering you anymore. They should be your 'let's go to IHop' because you woke up terrified at three in the morning, and you deserve to just go somewhere and take your mind off of it. Because you deserve it. Because everyone deserves love." Roman finishes softly. Everyone stares, speechless. He stands a little straighter, and he suddenly looks sheepish.

"I'm sorry for my outburst, I guess I just had to get those words out somehow, and that seemed like an appropriate time, I still have some Princey adrenaline running through me." Roman says, clearing his throat.

"That's ok, your turn wasn't very long, you probably had more to say." Thomas doesn't object to his words.

"Well, that should do it. I don't think I need anymore clips from you guys right now. You guys can leave if you want, I'm just gonna start filming the the beginning and then the intro, he tells us.

Logan moves first, then Roman, and lastly Patton before finally myself, after one last glance at Thomas. I catch the first few words of the intro.

I speed walk past all of the others, straight to my room, shutting the door with attitude. That would keep them from checking on me for at least half an hour.

I walk to my bed and flop down face first onto the balled up covers. Then I look over to my laptop, remembering that I put on a Disney song playlist when roman came into my room. I looked closer at what was playing.

It was 'Reflection' from Mulan. I close it out I click the search bar. I enter something alang the lines of 'set it off n.m.e.' And I click on the first one that looks like a lyric video. I close my eyes and listen to the music.

The next thing I know, I'm woken up almost an hour later, by a knock at the door. The door opens, and Patton sticks his head in. I open an eye to him, and pat a spot on my bed, yawning. Patton sits on my bed, and I scoot over until I'm close enough to lay my head on top of his leg.

He runs a hand through my hair, and I yawn again. He continues to mess with my hair.

"You okay, kiddo?" He asks quietly. I nod and make an 'Mhmm' noise.

"That's good. So you're okay, are you just tired?" I nod weakly. He pets my hair back down.

"Mhm." I mumble again. He leans to the side, towards the head of my bed, and snatches a couple of pillows. As he gets up he slides the fluffy pillows under my head, and he pulls my heavy blankets up over my shoulders. The only other thing he manages to get from me was kicking my sneakers off, after much coaxing.

He breathes a departing 'sweet dreams', and walks from my room with soft steps. The light fades behind my closed lids, and just like the light, I find myself quickly fading.

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