Plenty of Treasures

Amber Tears

Pairing(s): Implied Logicality and platonic Moxiety

Warnings: Pining, but like, it's really sad

Note: This is a continuation of the circus au, 'Loving the Danger'. Hope you enjoy!
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An hour or so after the show is over, the entire circus tent is subdued, and Patton finally allows the tension in his shoulders to dissipate.

His eyes close as he completely relaxes against one of the larger sandbags used to propel Virgil and Remy into the air. Eyelids heavy, he ignores his desperate need for sleep and stares up at the roof. Red. White. Red. White. Counting the coloured stripes of the tent certainly doesn't help cease the exhaustion in his limbs, but what else can he do? He's alone.

Red.

White.

Without any warning, his mind conjures up a new colour. Honey slowly melting in direct sunlight; tree sap peeking through the bark of a pine tree; something else that Patton can't even describe. These images should bring him a joyous grin, but instead, he's left with the hollow sensation of butterflies clawing at his stomach. 'Let us out,' they cry. And yet, he cannot.

Like the core of a rotting apple, the colour in his mind twists until Patton has to focus on breathing, lest he forget how. In and out. In and out.

He should distract himself, but who would still be here after the show? Roman likes to immediately rush off and work out, to keep his strength up, perhaps. Remy hurries away to have a nap, Nate usually following behind, Dorian isn't too talkative even at the best of times, Thomas must start planning their next show with Terrence's help, Joan and Talyn usually go out to eat, Virgil dislikes socialising too much with anyone, and Logan doesn't care enough to stay. A pang in his heart drives Patton forward towards the ring, where he expects there to be no-one, only to find a familiar figure hanging upside down from the trapeze.

Softly, he smiles. Virgil is close enough to the ground that he could easily enough just drop and sit down, but, of course, the man just has to take it up a notch. Quite literally. He carefully makes his way over to his companion, keeping his steps light but noticeable.

"Hey Pat."

"Hi Virge." Patton smiles wider, sitting on the ground a few feet in front of Virgil's face. "What're you still doing here? I thought you'd want to go back to bed, asap."

Virgil smirks lightly, glancing over at Patton and raising an eyebrow, though it looks a little bit like his eyebrow has suddenly dropped since he's upside down, making Patton stifle a giggle behind his hand. "You trying to get rid of me?"

Rolling his eyes, the contortionist shakes his head and tilts it to the side. It feels heavy. He's just really tired but sleeping would mean he's vulnerable. "Of course not. You're very welcome here! You know that."

A loose shrug jostles Virgil's thin frame and Patton can no longer sense the humour in his smile.

They're both silent for a little while. Patton lying down to continue counting the stripes on their circus tent, and Virgil hanging from the ceiling, seemingly relaxed as his eyes close gently. It's nice, sometimes, to just sit and be silent with another person. Acknowledging each other's presence for a couple of seconds before allowing the conversation to dissolve into a comfortable nothing.

Usually, Patton enjoys conversation, the desire to know more, to hear the crackle of passion in someone's voice when they speak about something they love, to feel the warmth of another person's validation and self-praise. But in moments like this, he prefers just sitting. Thinking. Not too much though. Too much thinking is most certainly a dangerous pastime. Especially when his brain won't let him forget that damned colour.