The Fallen Angel - Prinxiety (ON HOLD)

Chapter Twelve

Roman's gaze settled on the closed door to the bathroom. He suddenly felt very out of place and helpless. It was a peculiar feeling for him, giving that he always had responsibilities or duties when he was at home. Out here, he was allowed to make entirely his own decisions, but he wasn't sure what the right course of action was. 

He let out a sigh and began to pace the room. There were so many things that he wanted to learn about. What was the tattoo on Virgil's back? Who was Janus and how were they familiar with each other? Was Virgil only a light mage or was there more to him than that?

Running his fingers through his hair, he closed his eyes. The prince could feel a headache beginning to spread from his temples and toward the back of his skull. He inhaled deeply and let it out slowly. There was no reason for him to start stressing himself out with questions he couldn't possibly have the answer to without talking to Virgil. He wasn't sure the mage would even be willing to talk to him about any of it, but it was better to ask than to speculate. 

When he gets out of the bath, I'll ask him some questions, he thought to himself. Though he'll probably want to get some rest... he's exhausted... actually, so am I.

Roman hadn't realized how heavy his limbs felt until he thought about it. He turned to the clothes that he'd taken out of the bag Virgil had bought. Glancing down at himself, he remembered that he was still in his royal attire. He stripped himself of his suit and pulled on the loose trousers and shirt. It was simple, but the fabric was softer than he was expecting from common clothing. He wondered if Virgil had paid more for finer clothes to accommodate him. 

Folding up the suit, he looked toward the bed. His blood ran cold for a moment before heat quickly flowed up into his cheeks. He looked at the bed. The bed. There was only one for the both of them. 

I hope that he's okay with that, Roman thought as he at the closed bathroom door. I don't care that much, but we are practically strangers. Perhaps one of us should sleep on the floor...

He sighed in slight annoyance at the thought of sleeping on the hard wood floor, but he wasn't so selfish as to make Virgil do it. His back was bruised from his near attack in the market and he had put himself through a lot just to make sure he got to the inn safely. 

The door to the bathroom opened and broke him from his thoughts. The prince looked up to see Virgil emerge in similar clothing to him. He seemed a little more lively after the bath, but the exhaustion was still clear in the bags under his eyes. The mage looked at him and squinted. "What's wrong? You've got a weird look on your face."

"Oh, I just noticed there's one bed," Roman replied, clearing his throat.

Virgil scoffed and moved to put the satchel in the corner of the room. "Of course there's only one bed, I couldn't buy a two-person room by myself," he pointed out. "That would've looked really weird. Is the bed a problem? I take it you're used to one of these all to yourself."

"I'm- Okay," the prince began, cutting himself off. He took a deep breath and checked his temper. It was extremely enticing to start fighting with him given his rudeness. However, he knew that Virgil was exhausted and likely in pain. Roman looked back toward the mage and gave him a sympathetic expression. "I'm not going to get mad at you for that because you're clearly lashing out because of everything that's happened. You're tired, I'm tired too. There's nothing wrong with the bed. If you're comfortable sharing, I'm fine with it. If you'd rather, I'll sleep on the floor."

His words hung in the quiet air. The mage looked taken aback and his aggression seemed to fade instantly. His form grew small as he slouched. He looked like he was trying not to cry. 

Roman felt himself panic at the thought and quickly tried to save the situation. He moved to put his hands gently on his shoulders and guided him to the bed. "Hey, everything's going to be okay, you're okay," he said. He hoped he sounded reassuring. "Just lie down, okay?"

Virgil made a small noise of agreement as he did as he told. The prince pulled the covers over him and rounded to the other side of the bed. "Is it okay if we share?"

"Yeah, of course," the mage mumbled. "I'm not going to make you sleep on the floor."

He slid under the covers, careful to leave space between them. Laying on his back, he stared at the ceiling. The questions he was wondering about earlier came floating back into his mind. Roman turned his head to see Virgil laying on his side, facing him. His eyes were closed but his breathing was too shallow for him to be asleep. 

Swallowing, Roman decided to chance it. "Hey Virge?" he began. The mage's eyes fluttered open to look at him. "What's that tattoo on your back?"

"My- Oh... that..." He seemed conflicted and unsure, but not so much so that Roman felt bad for asking. Virgil looked like he was considering answering, and he really wanted to learn more about him. He sighed and closed his eyes again. "It's the symbol of my magic guild. They're light mages that called themselves the Order of Angels. Initiates get one wing upon being brought into the guild. When they become full members, they get the other wing."

"Wow..." Roman managed. He let the information sink in. "That's kind of beautiful... when do you think you'll get your second wing?"

Virgil's eyes opened again. The prince couldn't see how glossy they were in the dim light of the room. He inhaled and exhaled shakily. "I don't know," he replied honestly. The silence that fell over them was thick with emotions and unsaid thoughts. Roman wanted to ask more questions, but he didn't want to push the mage to talk to him while he was tired. He himself was beginning to drift off. His eyelids were drooping when he heard Virgil mumble one last thing. "Goodnight Princey."