Plenty of Treasures

Thank You, Jane Austen

Requested by BarelyEvenAlive (same)

Prompt: "You're worth every second of my time."

Pairing(s): Prinxiety

Warnings: Strong language and slight overthinking
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Sometimes Virgil is one hundred percent sure that time is out to get him.

A three-thousand word essay on the plot structure of 'Pride and Prejudice'. What does that even mean?! Couldn't the teacher give them more of a criteria on what topics would be best to mention? And why did it have to written in so many words?!

His shoulders drop as a heavy sigh leaves his chest feeling a little emptier than usual. It doesn't help that the bookcases in the college's library are at least eight inches taller than he is. And, of course, 'Pride and Prejudice' is sitting rather smugly on the very top shelf. He can almost hear it squawking insults from its little wooden heaven.

"Virgil? You doing okay?"

As the presumed voice of God asks him that very simple question, he realises that he's been openly glaring at the top shelf for around thirty seconds. And as he snaps his neck looking over at the source of the disembodied voice, he makes another discovery. Oh, that isn't God, but it's actually somebody of much higher personal authority.

What are words, again? How do you make the words do stuff? Virgil stands there for a good ten seconds wondering those things and more before remembering that he and Roman have been friends for at least three years. "Oh, uh, yeah. Just... book reports, y'know?"

Roman Perez, a guy in only two of his classes but in his friend group, laughs quietly and gestures to the popular, and rather mean, Jane Austen novel still mocking Virgil from the top shelf. "Not a fan?"

God, Virgil honestly thinks that he could listen to his voice on repeat for the rest of his life. They could be saying anything and he'd happily listen to it until he took his last breath. A bit dramatic, but so was Roman, so he doesn't feel as bad about it.

"No," he rolls his eyes, slipping into the usual persona he holds up around his secret admiree, "I just can't reach it."

Roman snorts and looks up. "Of course you can't, your just a little sprite."

And, almost effortlessly, he reaches up and snatches the book from its home. He skims through some of the pages, long fingers separating the pages easily enough, and he smiles fondly at the contents. "I remember reading this. It was a bit of a difficult read for me at the time. Old language, you know?"

With a distracted nod, Virgil finds himself mirroring the way his friend is now leaning against the bookcase. A knowing half-grin is shot over at him before green eyes scan through the pages once again. What was that look about? Does he know something Virgil doesn't? Or, maybe there's something on his face.

Not thinking about his next actions or 'subtlety', he pulls his phone out of his back pocket and gets the camera up. Makeup doesn't look bad, his nose piercing is the correct way round-

"You look fine, Virgil."

And there's that look again! He ignores the incredible heat settling into his skin and double-checks his face before deciding he looked decent enough, and sliding his phone back into his pocket. Roman rolls his eyes and grins. "You look cute; stop worrying."

Oh. "I don't- Uh, thank you. I don't really, but thanks. You too."

Roman's chest puffs outwards before he lets out a nervous laugh and scratches the back of his head. "Ah, thank you very much. I didn't have time for concealer or anything today, so I wasn't sure."

"Well, you look good, so like, you stop worrying."

"Fine, I'll leave that to you."

Somehow, the overwhelmingly bright light of the library seems so dull compared to the man standing in front of him. Olive skin glowing, lips pulled up into one of his usual warm grins. One with just a hint of mischief. And wow, Virgil is gone.

They both seem to realise the surprising length of their interaction and scan the library only to see people leaving. Virgil wants to frown. He doesn't want Roman to leave. Not yet.

"Hey, are you free this Saturday?"

Suddenly, he's thrust into a dimension where humans don't require a beating heart to live. Just the warm air and a constant fluttering stomach. Virgil attempts to drown out his hopes with other questions he could be asked. "Uh, yeah. Why?"

Roman seems to be very interested in the green carpet beneath their feet. "Would you maybe, like, want to hang out? Or go out? Do something?"

There's a lot of feelings slapping Virgil's face all at once. Disappointment. Excitement. Anxiousness. Maybe he should just answer before Roman takes it back. "Yeah, that sounds cool. Will the others be there too or not?"

"Uh, I was hoping it could just be us."

"That sounds really great too. What're we doing? Just the usual fast food and drinking?"

Roman scratches harshly at the back of his hand, something Virgil knows he does when he's frustrated or nervous. What would he have to be nervous about though? Has Virgil done anything to frustrate him? Just that thought has his stomach sinking to his feet. "Have I done something wrong?"

"No, no, of course not." And Virgil believes him, but definitely still wants an explanation. "I'm just... not as knowledgeable about romance as I thought."

What?

Before Virgil can voice this surprised thought, his companion takes a deep breath and taps his fingers against his thigh. "I was hoping that this Saturday could be more of a date? You know," he smiles awkwardly, but it's still prettier than anything else Virgil can think of, "romance. That sort of thing."

A smile is betraying Virgil's usual indifferent facade rather quickly, and there's no way he's going to stop it. "Yeah, I'd really love that actually."

Roman grins, wide and beautiful. "Great! Perfect. Neat. Okay, so uh, we can plan it sometime tonight if you want?"

Fuck that essay, honestly. "Yeah, if you're free, that sounds good to me."

But then, anxiety decides to make an appearance. "Are you sure you want to go on a date with me though? Like, you wouldn't rather do something else?"

Roman furrows his eyebrows, seemingly confused and unhappy with the direction this conversation is going in. "You're worth every second of my time, Virgil. Of course I want to go on a date with you; I really like you."

"Oh." When did he become so breathless?

Instead of mocking his very noticeable attraction, however, Roman merely smiles and takes a step forward to place 'Pride and Prejudice' into Virgil's unexpecting arms. "I'll text you tonight, then? Since you'll be working late."

All Virgil can do is nod, his voice not cooperating with his mouth.

Another smile is sent his way, then there's lips pressing to his cheek before Roman is walking away and out of the library.

He grabs his phone, immediately sending a text to his friend Patton about this new development before hiding the bottom of his face in his hoodie and squeaking little cheers into the dark material. Right now, he really doesn't care if anyone else can see him. And as he walks back to his shared flat, he doesn't even care when people notice the added skip in his step.

His cheek is still tingling.