Sanders sides angst/ fluff

just an assignment

(Royal!AU Roman is the spoiled prince of the kingdom, and Virgil as his personal guard.)
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"Virgil, could you be a darling and come over here for me?" Roman sat at the head of the large dining table, Virgil standing a few feet behind him. Virgil strode over to him still a few inches away.
'He's your assignment, not your friend.' Virgil remembered what the King had told him when he was hired.
"Closer Virgil, and kneel down."
"Yes, Your Highness."
Roman laughed. "Virgil, what have I told you? Call me Roman!"
Roman had always told Virgil to call him Roman, since the day Virgil was assigned to him. He would comply for a day or so, until he felt too uncomfortable to do so, and would switch back to 'Your Highness'.
Roman held out a fork with a bite of turkey on it. "Here, eat this." 
"Are you sure? Isn't there some gala your family is hosting-" Virgil was cutoff by Roman.
"Hush. Now you wouldn't want me to be poisoned, would you?" Roman said dramatically, his hand on his heart.
"No, Your Highness." Virgil carefully took the bite in his mouth, Roman sliding the fork slightly closer.
Virgil closed his eyes and swallowed, and when he opened his eyes, Roman was about an inch closer, waiting with eager eyes.
"So? Do you like it?"
"Y-Yeah. Yes, it's great."
Roman clapped his hands together. "Great! Didn't taste strange at all?"
Virgil shook his head. "No."
"Perfect." Roman reached over to another dish and lifted the lid. "That was only the appetizer. We have to make sure everything is fine, right?"
Virgil nodded as Roman picked a bite out with a fork. "Virgil, you're a man of few words, aren't you? I'd love to know what's going on in that brain of yours." Roman stuck out the fork, signaling for Virgil to take the bite.
Roman was right, Virgil didn't say much to Roman. He wanted to but was afraid to be too friendly or say something he didn't agree with. He followed orders and did his job, but he secretly longs to be closer to Roman. Occasionally, Roman would say something that almost made him think Roman wanted the same.
Virgil swallowed and felt the corners of his lips turn upwards a small amount.
"Aha! You like it! You're smiling! At least I think you are? I hope you are." Roman smiled.
"I am. I was. It's great, Your Highness. The chefs have really outdone themselves."
Roman frowned a little, looking over different platters of food laid on the table.
"It's Roman, Virgil. R-O-M-A-N. Roooomannn." Roman stretched out the last 'Roman'.
"Sorry, Roman." Virgil paid careful attention to the way he said his name.
"Perfect." Roman was practically beaming. "I like the way my name sounds coming out of your mouth. Ro-man. Ah!" Roman moved a platter of deserts closer to him. He picked up a frosted cookie and held it toward Virgil's mouth.
Virgil took a bite, and a smile, larger than the last one crept across his face. "They're delicious."
Roman beamed, clapping his hands together. "Yes! Mother told me to 'help' in the kitchen, and I helped Patton with these cookies."
Patton is the head chef in the castle, one of the best chefs in the kingdom. He has special expertise in the bakery department to satisfy Roman's sweet tooth.
Roman closed his eyes proudly. "I frosted them." He took a bite from the opposite end of the cookie.
They were frosted red, slightly sloppily, with gold sprinkles.
Roman grabbed another one and handed it to Virgil.
"You can have all of this one."
"Thank you." Virgil took a small bite, studying to cookie a little closer. "They're very you."
"Are they now? Roman looked at his cookie curiously. "You don't say?" He said, laughing. He
Virgil smiled, taking another bite. "I do say."
"Virgil," Roman took the final bite of his cookie and rested his head in his hands. "Tell me something about you. Anything, your favorite color, favorite food, book, anything. I wanna know what's going on inside there." Roman tapped Virgil's head with one of his fingers.
The words of Roman's father rang inside his head as he searched for the right things to say.
'He's your assignment, not your friend.'
"Well, Purple, for my favorite color." Virgil tried not to trip over his words at all.
"Really? You didn't strike was a purple kinda guy." Roman looked shocked.
"I don't know. I just like it. My favorite food? These cookies, obviously." Virgil let out a small laugh.
Roman's eyes lit up. "You flatter me. And you know something, Virgil? I don't know if I've ever heard you laugh, or smile this much, actually. But I like it. I like your smile."
Virgil felt himself blushing, but he wasn't exactly sure why. He had been in other castles, been assigned to other Princes before Roman, and he had only been with Roman for a little under a year, anyway. But, for some reason, Roman felt different.
"Thank you, Your-Roman."
Roman sighed dramatically. "I really do like the way you say my name. There's something special about it that I just can't put a finger on. You're my favorite guard, you know that, Virgil? I've had a few in my time, but you are something special."
Virgil could feel Roman's eyes staring into his soul. He shifted around a little bit, trying to not be awkward.
"You've been my favorite Prince too. I hope I can stick around here for a while."
"Me too. I think you've lasted the longest out of all my guards." Roman cocked his head to the side, thinking. "There was Yves and Dominik. Then there was Apollo and Lynette. And then....oh yes! Then there was Percival! Oh, I liked that Percy. He was around for a little over a year and a half."
Virgil felt a pang of jealousy, though he wasn't sure why.
'It's like he likes me anyway. It's not like I like him anyway! He's not my friend, he's not my friend, he's not my friend.'
Each time Virgil repeated it, he believed it less and less.
Roman threw his hands in the air. "I did wish he hadn't left, but now I've got you!" Roman smiled. "And I'm really glad about that. You're good to have around. Even if you don't say much. I like you, Virgil. I think we should get to know each other better.
Virgil almost choked. He looked around, to see if Roman's father was there, to see if this was some sort of sick test or a joke. But there was no one.
"I think we should too, Roman."