Hold Me Back || Prinxiety

Chapter 5

(Roman's POV)

Song - Fools: Troye Sivan

just finished filming a video, leaving Virgil inside his room. After what happened that night... I just can't focus. To know he's going through so much, all to be rewarded with our undisguised cruelty, it's just too much. I know he wouldn't appreciate me checking in on him, and probably would flip if he remembers anything about that night. About how he came undone in front of me. Exposed his vulnerability. All those years of hiding, why did he do it? Why did he hide his anxiety attacks? If only I knew about the attacks sooner, I could have done something. I should have shown him that I cared. I should have done so much...

I've been distracted the whole day, thinking about him. I can't help it anymore, and it's certainly far too late to just ignore my feelings! I'm not even trying to stop myself anymore, I just need to know he's safe. My feet walk, unconscious step after step, down the hall, hastening in my desire to just see Virgil. Before I know it, I'm far away from Patton and Logan, the tones of their voices too far away for the human ear to pick up. Slowing my steps, I reluctantly turn back and join the duo; neither Virgil or I can afford for them to get suspicious. 

I need to find a way to keep an eye on Virgil without him knowing, there is no way he would want me to get involved. I need to make sure he doesn't do anything extreme. Maybe I should invite him to a movie night..? Or would that make him overly anxious? It's so hard to tell with Virgil, he's so difficult to read.

My heart beats in sync with my hasty footsteps, forming an entrancing soundless song only I can hear. A song of pure worry. I know the longer I'm away from Virgil; the longer I go without knowing he's safe, the more my worry will consume me. 

I'm close to him now, yet his presence seems dulled. As if he's either deep in thought or... injured. I abandon all thought, my pure intention to find Virgil. Eyes locked on the door leading to the Common room, I try to dull my presence so he can't feel me, but being so distracted makes it hard. Stilling my breath, I enter the Common room, fully expecting Virgil to be lying half dead on the floor. What I see takes me by surprise, causing me to take a sharp breath of relief.

There he is, hunched over the kitchen sink. I don't think he even realizes I'm there. His breath is strangely even, a rare thing for him. Suddenly his eyes flash to the door, perhaps sensing Logic and Patton. I see the conflict in his eyes, as if he's having an internal battle, and see the instant, intense change in his body language as he apparently loses. He chocks on his bread, almost as if his body is physically incapable of keeping the food down, and empties the contents of his stomach into the sink. I can feel his defeat, his disappointment in himself. I can hear his thoughts, as loud as my own, "Worthless," "Can't even stomach food," "Can't stop... the cutti-," "Anorexic"

All of a sudden it makes sense. Virgil is trying to stop his anxiety from ruining his life, starting with eating again. Another thing I should have realized. Virgil hasn't eaten for months. Oh God, I feel sick. I need to help him. I will help him.

My thoughts are broken as Patton and Logan enter the room, and Virgil stumbles to the hall, a blur of black contrasting to the pristine walls. It takes a while for me to gather my thoughts, and I pause I moment to allow my body to catch up with my brain. I follow Virgil. I need to talk to him.

I reach the door he went through, and I only vaguely realize it is my room. He must have already fallen asleep. He looks so peaceful yet so disturbed all at the same time. How can one be so hard to read, so different? My hands reach down to play with his hair, running it through my hands, putting the sensations to memory, and I am overwhelmed with strange feelings.. of love..?

He starts shaking, as if on cue. He keeps repeating, "I'm not the bad guy," in his sleep, and for a moment I fear he's gone into another panic attack. I instantly incase him in my arms, hoping they offer the support he so obviously needs. He turns in his sleep, resting his head on my shoulder, snuggling closer to my body. As the muttering turns to warm tears, collecting on my arm, I can't help but hold tighter, thankful for the man in my arms that means more to me then he could ever imagine.