Sanders sides angst/ fluff

headache (prinxiety)

(tw trauma mention, attempted s*icide, divorce, attempted r*pe, eating disorder, throwing up basically proceed at your own caution)) (human au)
It was bad. Worse than ever before. Virgil had gotten migraines since he was in middle school. Mainly caused by stress, they weren't too bad. If he got them in school, all he would have to do was go to the nurse and skip a period or two. If he got them at home, he would drink a lot of water and coop himself up in his room, dark and quiet. But this? This was bad.
It was a splitting migraine, paired with a panic attack. He had been through the process before, so he did what he needed to do. He flicked off every light in his apartment and poured himself a glass of water. He chugged it in under a minute, so he poured himself a second. His usual procedures didn't seem to be doing anything, so he stumbled over to his medicine cabinet, pulling out two Ibuprofen. He stared at the pills in his hand, willing himself just to swallow them, but he couldn't.

Virgil Storm. Twelfth Grade. I can't. I can't anymore. I've been bullied and tormented since middle school. I was never, ever apart of anything. I won't be missed. I know I won't. I never did anything that mattered to anyone, and I was never anything to anyone. I probably sound melodramatic, but this is what I have to deal with. Every second of every day. I'm tired of everything. Everything feels numb and meaningless. I feel numb and meaningless. I don't even feel pain anymore. I've been cutting since eighth grade, and I know it's awful. I know it doesn't solve anything. But it's the one thing I have control of. I'm in my bathroom, and I've only got one thought. How? In here, there are two ways to do it, but I don't know which will be less painful. Do I even want less painful? I don't know. I don't care. I pull open the medicine cabinet and grab the first pill bottle I see. Sleeping pills. Okay. Okay, I'm doing this. I've thought about it before but was always too much of a coward to do anything. But now, now I'm going through with it. I'm really gonna do this. I shake out like half the bottle into my hand and shove them into my mouth. I don't know how much it'll take to kill me, so I take a few more. I lean up against the bathroom door and put in my earbuds. I put my playlist on shuffle. The first song that plays, I realize, might be the last thing I hear. 'Famous Last Words.' It's almost ironic. I shut my eyes and let the music take me away. My whole body starts tingling a little bit and everything starts going numb. I can kinda hear some muffled noise, and I don't really care until I can feel the door being pushed up against me. I would resist, but I can't. I don't remember anything else. I remember my mom crying and waking up in a hospital.

He was upset at first, upset that fate had stopped him from doing What he thought he needed to do. But soon enough, he realized that he had almost made the biggest mistake of his life.
He tried to ignore the memory invading his head, and quickly swallowed the pills, chasing it with his third glass of water.
His head throbbing, he stumbled onto his couch and reached for his phone. When he turned it on, the brightness made his head pound even worse than before.

Virgil Storm. College. Sophomore year. I had finally met someone. I started making actual friends at the beginning of college. Patton Smith and Logan Pierce. Patton had introduced me to his friend, Roman Prince. At first, I was kinda iffy about him. He was very dramatic at full of energy all the time. But he was also charming and charismatic and I could probably stare into his eyes all day. I never wanted to believe that I had feelings for him, I couldn't let myself. But I knew that I did. The way that I got tongue-tied when I tried to talk to him. The way that I almost always wanted to impress him. And, he's just really fucking cute. His hair is super soft, and his eyes. You can read him like a book if you look at his eyes. He looks he could probably pick me up too. Do I want that? That's to be decided. Roman thoughts aside, I unlock my phone and look at my unread messages. Ironically, the only one there is one from Roman. His contact name is Princey ❤️, because he's practically a Disney prince. I've seen birds sing when he walks by. It's almost magical. Anyway, I read his message. 'Heya, Storm Cloud. Could I ask you a question?'
A question? Okay, okay. This is fine. 'yeah sure, what is it?' I wait for like a minute, then I see him typing. Then a message. 'Virgil, do you like me? Because I do. I think you're really cool and interesting, and I want to know you more. Go out with me?'
It's practically worded like a poem. Roman. Prince. Asking me, Virgil Storm. On a date. Woah. Okay. This could be a prank. But I hope it's not. I really hope it's not.
'i like you too roman. id love to go out with you.' is it too much? Too little. I don't know. I don't care for once. I hit send and the brightness of my screen makes my eyes water a little. Woah. This is amazing.