Prinxiety fluff

'You look like a dead raccoon'

Virgil was laying in bed, staring at the ceiling in dead silence, he felt... alone.

It was 10pm and the house seemed dead, quite, empt-

Crash

Virgil slightly jumped at the sudden loud sound, and walked downstairs to see what had happened, he wasn't scared, he knew (well hoped as not to have to fight) it was one of the sides, so it's not like he was doing anything rash.

"Oh, hi." A voice which was unrecognisably Romans.
Virgil looked at the kitchen, he couldn't see anyone. He walked to the counter and peered over to the right.

There he is.

There was broken glass on the floor, a carton of orange juice on the counter, and a particular Prince in the corner of the kitchen trapped by the glass and the lack of shoes, in fact him, Remus and Virgil seemed to be the only ones who didn't wear shoes in the house casually, it was a European thing.

"Oh it's you!" Roman said, his voice relaxing, but something was off, his voice. His voice sounded different. English accent.

Virgil had figured out that Roman was at least British by the references and words he used, like 'bin' and 'pavement', Virgil was also European, but he was French, the two were good at voice acting so their faux American accents could fool many and most, except for family.

"Vee could you get the broom, it's next to the door." Roman asked, he had bags under his eyes, sleep deprived, Virgil mentally noted while getting the broom. He began to sweep the glass to the middle of the kitchen while, at the same time, making a glass-free path for Roman.

"Thanks Vee." Roman said sarcastically, yet genuine gratitude was geniusly sewn into his words, they were subtle pieces of string, there, holding the two worded sentence together, yet also non existent.

"Welcome! Now can you explain what happened?" Virgil said while getting a heavy duty rubbish bag for the glass pile on the floor, he knew what had happened, he simply wanted Roman to admit it.

"I was trying to get a glass of orange juice and I dropped it and trapped myself there." Roman said clearly humiliated, pointing to the corner he had been standing 3 minutes previously. "Anything else Panic at the everywhere?"

"Yeah, when did you last sleep? You seem really out of it to drop a glass, you're not a clumsy person. Also, not to be rude but. You've got serious bags! Like you could carry car boots (trunk for Americans) worth of shopping with them, like, you could singlehandedly solve plastic bag pollution an-"

"Okay I get it, I look totally fantastic." Roman said with pure sarcasm that most would think was only possible from Virgil.

"Sorry" it was a single word expression, but nonetheless the phrase brought a smile to Roman's face.

"Go to sleep Princy, it's 10." Virgil said bluntly.

"I have work to do you know? I can't just 'go to sleep', I have stuff to do." Roman responded, God he's not going to sleep is he?, Virgil said in his mind.

"You have to, anyway, you look like a dead raccoon Roman, even more than me with eyeshadow on."

"Yeah? No."

"Hotel?"

"Trivago." Roman replied, just because he was tired didn't mean he was ready to sleep. He had a deadline for ideas and he was absolutely drained, but he refused to sleep, if Remy were to find out he would of taken it as an insult to his bloodline, I mean he was Roman's brother, but that just added salt to wound.

Roman was digging deeper into his own world, when he was taken so quickly out of it he could've gotten whiplash. He was in Virgil's arms, bridal style. Nope nope nope, not dealing with this bullshit, Roman pushed himself out of Virgil's arms, well he tried.

Virgil began walking up the stairs, he wasn't letting the Prince go God knows how many hours more without at least a nap of some sort. Roman then looked down and realised he was a little higher than normal, he was tall, especially for an British man, 5'9 was impressive, but Virgil was taller, a lot taller.

Roman had a bitter deadpan expression on his face, clearly not pleased with the position that gave him a lack of power in that situation.

"Ya know when you give me that face you look dead right. If someone saw this they'd assume I murdered you." Virgil commented on the facial expression.

Unlike Roman he had a smile, well it wasn't a smile, but a smirk, his eyes had a vague mischievous look to them, that made Roman want to punch him.

Virgil opened Roman's door, it reminded him of last week when it was stormy, but this time he knew the Prince was ok.

Roman's room was a mess. The bed wasn't done. The desk was cramped with piles of pages, though half of them were blank. There were balls of crumpled pieces of paper, what Virgil assumed were ideas that 'weren't good enough'.

Roman had given up resistance to Virgil carrying him.

Virgil placed Roman neatly on the bed, it was next to the wall. When Logan had told Roman that he should place his bed in the middle against the wall, Roman said (and I quote) 'You can pry my side bed privilege from my cold, dead hands Pocket protecter'.

Roman felt a crashing wave of realisation to how sleepy he was the second he was on his memory form mattress. Yet he refused to sleep.

"You tired Princy?" Virgil said in a mocking yet caring tone to the Prince who was slipping in and out of consciousness. Too tired to formulate a sentence, or even nod, the Prince responded with a hum which translated into a yes.

Roman heard a light rustling sound, but didn't get up knowing he was safe, and also the fact that he physically couldn't.

The sun peered through the crack in between his curtains. He sat up and checked his clock, it was 1 in the afternoon, then looked at his room. Paper was no longer scattered around the room, though his desk still looked similar, just a little more organised.

Author's note.
Hi people who have stumbled across this book. I'd like to make clear that this book was made on the 27th of September 2020, so before anyone comments, this book won't have future information, though when new sander sides videos come out I will update the book so that everything's a little more accurate.
Bye