~roman~
New York, NY
I listen to Virgil's breathing on the other end, closing my eyes, pretending he's here.
"Te amo, mi pesadilla emo." I whisper it, knowing if Virgil was awake he'd sigh at me.
I know he doesn't understand it when I speak Spanish to him, but I also know he loves it. He also loves pretending it annoys him, which is why he won't learn it.
I wish we were closer together. I'd only seen him once, last time I went to Portland for Christmas. I'd never felt happier.
I know he's scared of me, in the sense that he's been hurt, and he can't completely know that I won't hurt him too.
I listen to him breathing, wishing he really was lying next to me, and I could wrap my arms around him and pull him into me.
I open my eyes and turn onto my side, looking at my wall of pictures. There's some scattered in the mish-mash of pictures that are from the week I spent with him last year. I find them and rest my fingertips on them. He took me to the places he frequents, I met his friends, I met his mom. A small smile creeps onto my face at the memories. I spent a whole day with him just on the couch, watching movies (mostly Disney). Those pictures are my favourite. We're just being silly, and I got so many candids of him, laughing, singing, burrowed in a blanket. I find the selfie I took when he fell asleep on me halfway through Lilo and Stitch.
I start to hum, just a song that's been stuck in my head for a few days now. I always have some song or another stuck in my head. It's helpful sometimes, like when Virgil asks me to sing to him. (He doesn't often, it makes him feel too bothersome, but I've started to figure out when he needs it and just can't ask, so I do it more.)
There's some rustling on Virgil's side, and I hear a very soft, very groggy, "Hey Ro..."
I smile, "Did you have a nice nap?"
"Nice enough. What've you been doing?"
"Nothing, laying here."
"Mm."
"Did you have nice dreams?"
"Nicer than normal."
"That's good."
"Yeah, I guess."
"How are you feeling?"
"Mm. Okay."
"Real okay, or 'I'm seconds away from a breakdown' okay?"
"Real okay."
"That's good. I wish I was with you."
"I wish you were too."
I smile, "What do you have today?"
"Classes. A history class, and a couple of others I forgot the names of."
"When?"
"In an hour."
"You should get ready then."
"Probably."
"You don't want to though."
"You know me so well."
I laugh softly, "I wouldn't be doing my job as your boyfriend if I didn't."
"Being my boyfriend sounds like an awful lot of work."
"Nah."
"It's got to be rotten work, taking care of me."
I sigh, closing my eyes and leaning my head back, "Not to me, not if it's you."
