Prince next door (Prinxiety au)

Chapter 1

It's already dark outside. The slight slimmer of the moon hidden behind gloomy gray clouds. Stars barely visible when he looks up at the sky. A sigh leaves his lips and swirls up in a frosty breath as he shrugs deeper inside his black and purple hoodie. It's a cold night, but he can't be inside right now. The walls would close in on him. Virgil has been in this city for about a month now, but he still feels lost. It's not just the city though. Nor is it the particular college he's currently attending. Hell, it's not even his loud and inconsiderate roommate that's hosting drunk parties all the damn time. No, unfortunately for him there isn't just one concrete reason why he feels this way. The sticky dark monster inside of him sneakily worked its way inside his heart years ago already. He can't pinpoint when exactly he started to notice it. It's hard to remember a time before it took over most of his emotions and thoughts. Telling him he's worthless, life is pointless, no one cares. Somewhere in his mind Virgil realizes that he shouldn't listen to the voice, but sometimes its incredibly difficult to drown him out. He then blasts his music loudly as he tries to distract himself. When he's having a good day it even works from time to time, but when he's having a bad day... Well, let's say nothing really works on those. He just lays paralyzed in his bed. Exhausted, but not able to sleep. Looking up at the ceiling. One moment overwhelmed by things he barely understands the next just staring aimlessly as he ignores his rumbling stomach and stinging eyes. Those days scare him. Those days come more and more often. Today is one of those days. Virgil subconsciously rubs his front arm over his hoodie. The sting that greets him is almost welcome. The darkness overwhelmed him over an hour ago. It's not like he did anything in particular. Just scrolling on his phone. But suddenly he started to feel like someone was clasping his heart in their fist. Breathing became something he could no longer do effortlessly and the voice was louder than it had been in a long time. He started to panic and in a blur he did what he always used to do back in high school when this happened. When he no longer felt like himself, but more as if he's trapped in his body. When he needed confirmation that he really is alive. That he still has control. He cut himself. Not deep. Nor big. Just a small cut on his forearm. It had been years since he last did it, but seeing the red blood trickle out of his broken skin slowed his breathing again. Cleared the fog in his head long enough for him to rush outside and into the open cold to calm down again. Now he's no longer overwhelmed. He's no longer panicking. No. Now he's just empty. Wandering the streets that are only vaguely familiar to him. Wondering if this cycle will ever end. At some point he arrives at the train station. Now abandoned in the late hour. Virgil looks around for a second before deciding to sit down on one of the stools and watch the bypassing trains for a while. Sometimes people get off, but no one gets on anymore. The last of the trains making their rounds to get everyone home. When a train passes in high speed without stopping, an empty bag of chips catches his attentions as it flies up from the same strong wind that's pulling at his hair and clothes. The bag swirls around for a couple more seconds before it eventually flutters into the ditch where the traintracks are. Even though the bag is out of sight, Virgil keeps staring at the spot where he's last seen it. He's not sure how much time passes before he hears the announcement for another train that'll speed by without stopping. Warning pedestrians to keep a safe distance. He tears his gaze from the spot and looks at the distant light from the oncoming train. A sense of calmness dawns on him when he sees it and remembers the old, empty bag of chips. An eerie smile on his face as he stands up. With every step he takes towards the edge he thinks: 'It can be over, I can leave if I want'. A freeing feeling engulfs him and he starts to sprint towards the train that's already almost here. Just before he can jump he closes his eyes as he prepares himself for the impact, but another force pulls him harshly back and onto the cold hard floor instead. Virgil's eyes fly wide open when a man practically tackled him. Trying to pull at his arms to pull him further back from the edge. All within a nano second Virgil realizes his legs are still dangling over the edge. Induced with adrenaline he pulls them up, away from the track, just moments before the train passes him. He wanted the pain to be over. Not lose his legs. The man holds him down as if he's scared he'd jump back up and try again. Too shocked by what just happened, Virgil remains where he is. The wind once again pulling harshly at his hair and clothes. His dark brown, almost black, eyes stare up at the sky. The empty sky. There are no stars tonight. He was so close.
"Are you completely insane?" The man above him yells angry when the train has passed and he allows himself to look down at the person he just saved. Virgil's eyes widen when he recognizes the brown mop of hair, now ruffled by the wind. Golden brown eyes glaring angry at him. The other man seems to remember him as well. Worry now shaping his face instead.
"Virgil?" He questions baffled. Without replying, Virgil pushes the other man off of him so he can stand up.
"Virgil, what are you doing here?" The man asks as he slowly gets to his feet as well behind him. Virgil doesn't say a single word. He stares blankly at the way the train has disappeared too. A heavy stone settling in his abdomen. It could have been over. The pain and agony would have gone along with his life. When that voice sounds loudly again he breaks down. "Fuck!" He yells at no one in particular as he pulls his hair harsh. He colored it purple the moment he left high school. A false hope that maybe changing his outside would help fix his inside. Tears streaming down his face. He feels so lost. So helpless. He just wanted to be gone. Why can't he just be gone? It's not like he wants to die perse, he just wants peace.
"Virge-" A real voice speaks up carefully. A voice he hasn't heard in a long time. It sounds deeper than he remembers it. Virgil closes his eyes as he tries to lock it all inside again. In no way will he show this man, this mirror to his past, any signs of weakness. He feels how a hand gets placed on his shoulder and he shrugs it off of him. Pushing the other man away.
"No! No, you don't get to do that!" He yells angry at the man he once trusted everything with before they lost it all. Roman looks taken back from his outlash. Making Virgil only more angry.
"Virgil, I just stopped you from- from killing yourself! I have the right to know what's going on." He starts. Raising his voice desperately when Virgil isn't giving him anything. Still shocked by what happened just moments ago.
"You lost that right a long time ago." Virgil mutters before pushing past him. Not sure what to do next, but knowing the moment is gone. He can't try it again. And even if he would, Roman has always been stronger and faster than him. He'd just hold him back over and over again. He looks around desperately for a moment. As if some kind of magical sign would tell him where to go. But there is no such thing and Virgil is left to deal with things alone as per usual. He let's out a deep, frustrated sigh before squaring his shoulders and slowly leaving the train station behind him again. He can't go back to his apartment right now. It would only make matters worse if he feels locked up. A neon blue 'open' sign catches his attention when he walks towards a liquor store. He knows Roman is following him. He's not deaf and the man is not exactly subtle. With an eye roll he pushes the door open and walks inside. Without taking a proper look at it, he grabs the first bottle within reach and steps towards the desk. He might still be here physically, but perhaps he can try and pretend that he isn't. Or at least that things don't hurt as much. It never worked before, but Virgil is sad to admit he's feeling desperate.
"Are you sure that's a good idea?" The slightly taller man wonders behind him. Voice judging, but with worry laced through it.
"Stop following me." Virgil mutters between gritted teeth as he hands the man behind the desk his money.
"No." Roman simply states. Crossing his arms. For a second Virgil wonders if he's going to stop him from going outside, but then Roman steps aside with a sigh. Virgil huffs as he passes him. Not in the slightest impressed by how Roman suddenly pretends to care about him again. Once outside he opens the bottle and takes a big gulp. The liquid burns his throat and he shivers at the disgusting taste, but instead of casting it aside, he pours more of the brown booze down his throat. When he looks up, he pleasantly discovers how his senses are already slower than usual. With the same aimless energy, but even more lost than before, he continues his endless walk around the city. Roman stubbornly following him. Virgil never knew the other man went to the same college. Or at least one near the same city. Maybe he even would have opted to go to another one if he had known. But how was he supposed to know? They haven't talked in years. They never even added each other on any of their social media accounts.
When they get to a bridge stretched over the cold river that runs through the city Virgil takes another bitter sip. It tastes awful, but he likes how it makes him feel numb. He hears Roman sigh deeply behind him and turns around. Suddenly furious with the man that's following him.
"Just stop!" He yells.
"No!" Roman raises his voice in response. Clearly losing his patience with Virgil as well. Good. A few more minutes and he'll leave him alone again.
"I can't do that. I'm scared you'll do something stupid." The man in front of him adds with a calmer tone. Virgil scoffs and turns around again.
"I'm not your responsibility. Never was." He mutters before chugging the burning alcohol down. Roman is quiet for a moment. Looking uncomfortable at his feet.
"What are you doing here, Virgil? What happened to you?" He wonders softly when he looks up again. Pleading with his eyes for answers. Virgil sees it over his shoulders. With an eye roll he grabs hold of the railing that prevents his drunk ass from falling into the freezing, black water underneath. He's already dizzy and nauseous, but the voice hasn't quieted down.
"Did you move again?" The other man questions. Having the audacity to sound hurt at the prospect of no longer being neighbors back at home. As if they didn't live worlds apart already. Virgil scrunches up his nose at the reason why they stopped being the kids next door a long time ago.
"I'm nineteen. What the fuck do you think I'm doing here?" He mumbles. Not looking up at him, but at the water below. His mind drifting off. Would the landing be harsh enough to kill him swift? The water wild enough to drown him? Would he be fast enough to beat Roman now he's not paying attention?
"You go to the same college!" The other man's cry gives him a whiplash back to his present state. Took him long enough to figure it out. What else would Virgil be doing in a well known student town? Virgil gives him a curt nod before taking another gulp from his bottle. Even though he knows better, he still tries to stop the black monster that's eating away at his heart. Deep down he knows he can't stop it by getting drunk. He tried that before. He tried everything already. He ignored it. Drowned it with alcohol. Let himself feel everything. Nothing seems to faze it. It remained there throughout the years. Virgil has gotten better at putting up a facade though. Getting out of bed and pretending he's fine. But these past few weeks of college have been hell for him. Without his mom to actually see him get up and eat, he just let himself tumble right back into that hole he already fell in as a young teenager. Not looking away from the water, he starts to clumsily climb the railing.
"Are you serious, right now?" Roman grumbles angry as he pulls him harshly back. Making Virgil tumble against him ungracefully.
"I wasn't gonna jump." Virgil frowns frustrated at the other man's behavior. It's true too. He wasn't. He thought about it, but he wasn't going to. As broken as their relationship is, he still wouldn't want Roman to be left with some kind of misplaced guilt for 'letting him go'. All he wanted to do was feel alive. Feel the thrill of sitting on the edge. Face to face with Death himself. Roman clearly doesn't believe him and Virgil scoffs as he shuffles back until his back hits the rail. Too drunk to get back on his feet without help. He looks from the man that suddenly pretends to care about him again to the bottle still in his hand. He spilled a lot when Roman pulled him back. Roman rubs his face tired at Virgil's reaction, but doesn't get up either. Sitting in front of Virgil with one pulled up knee. Why won't he just leave? He's good at that. Virgil eyes him closely for the first time that night. He didn't dare to until now. Scared it would hurt too much. But he's already hurting, so what's the point of preventing more? His gaze follows the sharp edge of Roman's jawline. A slight stubble decorating his strong chin. He changed over the years. Grown older and frankly more handsome. He's no longer a little boy, but an actual man. Twenty one years of age. Virgil lifts his gaze to the one thing that hasn't changed. His eyes. They're still the same shade of gold brown. Though they used to portray a childish enthusiasm while they're clouded with worry now. The sudden bolt of lighting going through Virgil when their eyes meet annoys him. How hasn't that changed when everything else has? He looks away again. Down at the water behind him. How would it feel like to die like that? He's heard somewhere that drowning could be a long and agonizing proces because of the survival instincts that try to keep the water out for as long as possible. With a sigh he pulls his knees up and wraps his arms around them as he buries his face in those. The bottle still in his hands. He hears how Roman shuffles closer, but doesn't look up. Not until he feels a strong arm wrapped around his shoulders. Part of him wants to cave and let Roman hug him. Cry in his arms like he used to do when they were kids and a little wounded bird they found died despite their efforts to save it. But the stronger part shrugs him off. He's alone. Roman left him alone. He can't pretend that's not true. It won't just change with a single hug. Roman looks hurt, but doesn't move away. Instead pulling Virgil closer again.
"No." Virgil mumbles angry. Trying to get out from underneath his grip.
"Stop fighting me." Roman grumbles as he wraps his arms secure and tight around him.
"No." Virgil repeats. Wishing he was one of those drunks who get ridiculously strong because they no longer know their boundaries. Alcohol just makes him weaker the more he drinks. His body barely in control. He's no match for Roman. He never was. Tears sting behind his eyes at the painfully familiar feeling of being pressed against the other man's warm and hard chest.
"Shhht." Roman shushes him softly. Stroking his purple hair tenderly while not easing his iron grip on the younger man. It makes the tears stream down freely against Virgil's will. Once the first sob escapes his trembling lips, he can't seem to stop them anymore. It's too much. Too sudden. Roman keeps shushing him softly while Virgil cries until his head hurts and he feels dizzy from the lack of oxygen on top of the alcohol still coursing through his veins. He hasn't said a single word, but Virgil feels how a tear drop falls on top of his head. Virgil screws his eyes shut. Clenching his hands into fists.
"I hate myself." He whispers barely audible. It's not meant to be audible. It just came out because the feeling got so powerful suddenly.
"You're breaking my heart." Roman sighs as he tightens his embrace even more.
"You broke mine a long time ago." Virgil mutters. Still with closed eyes. As if stung by a wasp, Roman loosens his embrace just enough for Virgil to quickly break free and puke over the edge of the bridge. When he lets himself fall back tired and sick, he sees the hurt expression on Roman's face. There's nothing he can do about it. It's the truth. Virgil looks away and rests his head against the rail as well. Eyes closed in an attempt to be less dizzy.
"Virgil?" Roman's voice seems more distant than before. He feels himself slip away. Alcohol and exhaustion pulling him down in a dreamless sleep. He vaguely feels how the bottle gets pulled from his grip, but doesn't respond. Maybe if he just curls up right here, it'll all go away. Maybe he did succeed in killing himself and this is all a test to see where he belongs in the afterlife. Making this some kind of torture by bringing Roman of all people back into his life. He's ready to test that theory out. Curl up into a ball. Done with this place.

-----------------------------------
Okay so the first chapter is really dark, but I promise that's not all for this story! There will be fluff and good parts too, I promise!