You're not getting a summary today, just an explanation. Once one of my friends said she couldn't imagine me crying, that it would seem... she searched for a word, and I supplied "out-of-character". She agreed that that was accurate. Well, last night I broke character. Welcome to my first vent fic, written shortly after midnight.
Virgil sobbed silently into his pillow. He'd thought that it was going to have been an okay day. But no, Roman had had to go and screw it up, at freaking eleven-fifteen PM, no less. It had been simple enough. Virgil had just been minding his own business when Roman came and started a conversation which had quickly become an argument. Roman had started yelling, and Virgil, like the absolutely pathetic being he was, had started crying. He had also been yelling back, of course, although he wasn't sure how much use that could possibly be with the painfully obvious tears rolling down his face.
At last, he'd sunk out to his room and plopped disconsolately down onto his bed, hence his current position. He could faintly hear Roman and Patton talking. He didn't know how long he spent lying there getting wet black stains on his pillowcase and trying to stifle the noises— honestly, the misery was awful enough without the humiliation added in too— before he heard a knock at the door. Patton's voice trailed in.
"Hey kiddo, I just came to give you a hug and then I'll leave you alone."
So Patton was siding with him— or, at least, not against him. Virgil waved his hand and the door unlocked itself. Patton opened it and walked over to Virgil, who slowly pushed himself up into a sitting position. Patton gave him a brief but comforting squeeze, then let go and sank out. Virgil faceplanted back onto his bed. Screw the stains on the pillowcase.
Again, he lay there for several minutes with water slowly leaking from his eyes and occasional whimpers escaping his throat. God, he hoped they weren't audible from outside the room. He gripped his hoodie closer to his body, searching for comfort in its warmth and softness. Roman and Patton were talking again. He could make out a few "should"s, "didn't"s, and "Virgil"s, but not much else. After a while, the tears mostly stopped.
Eventually, there was another knock. "It's unlocked," he called, hating the way his voice broke within those three simple syllables. The door opened to reveal, surprisingly, Roman.
"I'm sorry," he said. "I'm sorry I got mad, I'm sorry I shouted at you. I shouldn't have kept arguing. I shouldn't have started the argument in the first place. If I scared you, I'm sorry about that, too."
Virgil rolled over and sat up. Oh shoot, was he supposed to apologize too? It sounded egocentric to put into words, but he genuinely didn't think he'd been at all in the wrong. "I'm… sorry for not… trying to de-escalate the situation." Stupid, stupid post-crying voice. "I'm sorry for being mean."
"I shouldn't have insisted I was right." Wait, hold on, Roman wasn't done? ...Whoops. "I'll try to avoid this sort of thing in the future. I really don't want to be always fighting with you, Virgil." Roman stood there in silence for a few seconds, before leaving and closing the door behind him.
Virgil wearily waved his arm to lock the door. He was upset, and apprehensive, and tired. He lay back down, half on his side and half on his front, and closed his eyes. He sank into his fatigue and misery, and welcomed sleep when it came.