Plenty of Treasures

Tired Trust

Summary: Virgil and Logan have had quite a long day.

Word Count: 567

Pairing(s): Platonic or romantic Analogical

Warnings: A tiny hint of Logan angst, a brief look back at pre-Accepting Anxiety, and mention of Deceit
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Descriptions of a particularly clever detective’s logic relaxes Logan’s muscles as he leans into the cushions of their brown leather couch, tie loose around his neck and khakis replaced with comfortable navy pyjama bottoms. The entire courtroom ordeal may have been draining in every way it could have been, but Logan’s brain still craves information. Validation.

So, he allows the work of Agatha Christie to guide his brain to knowledge and his body into a complete state of quiescence.

Despite feeling indifferent towards the results of Deceit’s frivolous fake trial, the logical facet finds himself wanting to see the other sides. Roman seemed especially distressed after they found the solution to their problem. But since Logan has never been too skilled in dealing with emotional dilemmas, he stays put, allowing Christie to silence one specific voice in his head. One begging him to get up and check on them. Are they okay?

Wait. What line was he up to again?

As he attempts to find the spot he had read up to before becoming distracted, a rush of air rustles his clothing and leaves his left side feeling uncomfortably cold. Bare. Vulnerable. “Hey, L.”

His head snaps up to see Virgil standing there, fingers picking the stitches of his jacket and eyes looking towards the past. “Ah, salutations. I should have known you wouldn’t be asleep yet. How are you feeling?”

“Do you really want to know?”

Though spoken with his usual level of sass, the smile on his lips doesn’t quite light up his eyes. “Despite not caring much for emotional matters, I understand that you do. And if you’d like a fresh pair of ears to listen to whatever is clearly bothering you, I’m here. Or if you’d merely prefer a distraction, I can provide that also.”

Instead of the wholesome or exaggerated gratitude he’d surely receive from Patton or Roman, he’s offered a much calmer breath of laughter. “So, you do know a few idioms.”

Logan somehow finds the strength to smile back. “Of course I do.”

And for the next half an hour or so, they sit in a comfortable silence; both respectively stick to what they believe they’re best at. Soon however, the headphones begin to slip from their place on Virgil’s head and Logan turns to find his companion fast asleep.

Ignoring the warmth in his chest, he wills the accessory away and returns to reading his book.

Unfortunately, that warmth heats up to almost unbearable temperatures once the anxious side falls to lean against his shoulder. Logan, for a reason he will probably never understand, forgets to breathe for a moment as his mind takes him back to a day where this kind of trust from Anxiety wouldn’t have even been possible in Roman’s imaginary ‘realm’. But he can’t focus on this for too long, as Virgil is stirring.

Without thinking, his hand automatically summons a smaller pair of earphones, connects them to his phone, and continues the music playing from before. Slowly but surely, the younger trait seems to completely unwind, falling back into whatever world his unconscious mind has taken him to. Logan sighs. ‘Thank goodness.’

Virgil needs rest.

And, he thinks with a fond smile he’ll never admit existed, he’s chosen quite the tired pillow.
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Note: I also posted this on my tumblr at shakesqueer-writes!