Freshman Year (Sanders Sides AU)

Chapter 12

Roman's POV

I talked to Virgil for two hours after that. It was a completely civil conversation, for once, and it warmed my heart, to say the least.

I don't even remember what we talked about. But I have this memory of a small smile, illuminated by the pale glow of the moonlight through the window.

He's adorable when he smiles...

Wait.

What??

Snap out of it Ro.

When I thought that for the first time I thought I was crazy for thinking it. Virgil? He definitely wasn't my type. Having a short, scrawny, purple haired, anxious Charlie Frown beside me wouldn't be great for my social image.

Goodness, I was shallow.

But the more I thought about it, I started seeing more than just the short, scrawny, purple haired, anxious Charlie Frown.

Virgil was kind, quiet, and observant. He was poetic, beautiful, and yes, still sad. But his sadness was different. It wasn't pathetic or unbearable, but genuine and heart-breaking.

I wanted to help him. I didn't know how.

I found myself unable to sleep. Every time I shut my eyes I saw that small little smile, with a dimple in his right cheek. I tried to push it away but it kept coming back.

Over, and over, and over, and over again.

What the hell is wrong with me?

I wondered if anything would change, if we were friends after that. I wanted to know and I found a hard time waiting for morning to come. It was another thing that kept me from sleep.

When I got out out of bed the next morning I even looked like him. My hair was disastrous and I was forming bags under my eyes. If I had a big, emo hoodie and purple locks I could have been mistaken for him.

I fixed my hair but couldn't do much about my bags, so I plastered a smile on my face and entered the living room.

And just to my luck, no one was there but Virgil. He was strewn about on the couch, still in the clothes from the night before. He was eating Lucky Charms with his coffee in a mug beside him, not in the bowl.

I quietly made my way over to the buffet cabinet, not sure what to say to him. I tried to act like I hadn't seen him yet. I wasn't usually that awkward. It killed me.

I poured my cereal and got the milk out of the mini fridge, kicking the door shut behind me. I fixed up my breakfast in peace, the uncomfortable silence growing more and more unbearable every second.

"You're up early, Princey," Virgil's voice broke the silence.

Princey. Great, we're back to our old ways.

"Says you," I teased as I put the milk back where it belonged.

"You can't get up early if you never went to sleep," he commented.

"Yeah, I guess that's true," I replied with a shrug and turned around, leaning against the buffet. "Aren't you tired at all."

He looked at me and shrugged a little before looking back to his cereal. "I guess. I'm usually tired."

"You should sleep more," I said.

"Thank you for your excellent advice," he thanked me sarcastically. "I never thought of that."

"You're welcome," I replied. Two could play this game. "If you ever need any other advice let me know. What time is it?"

Virgil pulled his phone out from between the cushions of the couch and lazily checked the time.

"5:27," he answered. "On a Sunday, I doubt Logan will be up for a while. Patton will probably get up at about seven. Why are you awake? You never get up this early."

The fact that he was up this early often enough to know when each of us woke up was both disturbing and sad.

"I guess you can say I 'pulled a Virgil,'" I joked and took a bite of my cereal. "Couldn't sleep."

"Ah," he replied in a tired tone, setting his bowl down on the coffee table and picking up his coffee. "I thought you looked unusually disheveled this morning."

"Thank you," I rolled my eyes. "Your compliment means a lot."

"Don't get used to it," he smirked and sipped on his coffee.

I chuckled to myself and continued my breakfast, looking out the window as I did so.

The Environmental club was alreasy busy cleaning the courtyard and preparing for autumn. Some photography majors were scattered around, capturing pictures of the sunrise and the dew on the grass.

I can't say I envied them, being out in the cold.

I bet they got sleep last night. Jerks.

"Why do half of the criminology majors look like they walked out of a horror game?" I found myself asking out of the blue.

He blinked and shrugged. "Should I take that as a compliment or-"

"No, no not you," I corrected myself. "I was talking about Bad News Betty and Smokie McPot."

He tried to hide his smile and replied, "It's awful, but I know exactly who you're talking about. Emily, or Bad News Betty I guess, wants to look like Abby from NCIS and Tyler has CWS."

"CWS?" I asked, confused.

"Chronic Weed Syndrome," he explained. "It's a joke that some of the other majors made up."

"I see," I chuckled. "That explains a lot...about both of them actually."

He shrugged and finished his coffee. "Also that's not half, just two."

I rolled my eyes and crossed my arms. "Right, my bad for the exaggeration."

He smirked and got up. "Whelp, I'm going to bed. Have a good day, Roman."

"You too, Virgil."