Warnings: mentions of slaying a beast, hint at past bad romance, please let me know if I missed any.

Roman and Virgil worked on lessons for over an hour and a half. Finally, sometime around 6:40, Virgil sat back from the table with a sigh. “I think now would be a good time to stop,” he said as he looked across at Roman. The other sighed and ran a hand through his dark curly hair.

“I suppose,” he started before leaning back. “That would be wise.”

Virgil stood and turned to Roman. “Dinner should be done soon.” Roman nodded. A beat of silence as Virgil watched the other. “Would you like to go down to the dining room?”

Roman stood up and stretched. Virgil's eyes widened slightly and he quickly averted his eyes. “Yeah,” Roman let out a sigh before looking at Virgil. “What's on the menu for tonight?”

Virgil shrugged. “Just some pasta. Hope that's alright with you?”

Roman smiled. “Of course! I love pasta!” Virgil suppressed a smile as he left the room, Roman following close behind.

As the two walked through the halls, Virgil tried to ignore the blood rushing through his veins. He was a little uncomfortable, he had to admit. It had been a little while since he had someone else in his home. But Virgil liked it that way. He wasn't a very sociable person. However, he had to admit that….over the years, he had gotten lonely with only his pet cats to keep him company. That and the occasional “food” and grocery run.

Virgil shook his head slightly as they made their way into the dinning room. Virgil turned back to Roman. “I'll go check the food.”

“Okay.”

Virgil nodded awkwardly before he left. Roman watched as the other left. His host was a mystery. And Roman was beginning to find himself falling more and more in love with mystery. He quickly snapped out of it and let out a breathless sigh. Logan was right, he really was a hopeless romantic. Running a hand through his hair he turned and took a better look at the room. He glanced at the walls and noticed more woven tapestries. One of them seemed to show what could only be of the Stoker family line. Walking over to the tapestry, he stared in awe at the amazing attention to detail. Every person on the family tree had a small portrait along with their name. The stitched pictures and names were so perfect. Roman figured it must have taken ages to complete the whole piece. He reached forward and let his fingertips grazed the woven fabric gently. His eyes trailed from branch to branch, inspecting the different members of Virgil's family.

Roman's fingers stopped at a name and he felt his breath catch in his throat at the picture. His eyes were more guarded. And somehow the thread captured his silver eyes perfectly. Virgil's pale skin stood out against the dark richness of the background fabric. Roman let his pointer finger trail over the picture Virgil's jaw. Roman wondered what it would feel like to have his fingers graze the real Virgil's face.

Roman let out a reluctant sigh as he let his hand drop away from the tapestry. His head dropped to his dress shoes. He really needed to stop letting his heart do what it wanted. It didn't help last time. Roman shook his head and turned away from the tapestry. Looking around his eyes caught onto a piece of art behind the head of the table. His jaw dropped and he migrated over to the stain glass window and let his eyes drink in the brilliant colors. The stained glass depicted a cross of silver. Then the background was various different sized rectangles, each colored either purple, red, or gold in a range of different shades. It was beautiful in its simplicity.

Roman tentatively reached a hand out and let his fingertips ghost the cool, colored glass. It was magnificent. Roman felt a small smile spread across his face. A throat cleared behind him. He whirled around to find Virgil standing beside the table. Plates and food already sitting there. How could they have gotten there? Surely they weren't there a few minutes ago. And why hadn't Roman heard Virgil come in?

“Are you ready to eat?” Virgil asked as he watched Roman move over to a chair and sit down.

“Yeah. Sorry, I didn't hear you come in, I could have helped you carry the food in.”

Virgil gave a ghost of a smile. “Do not worry about it. You are my guest. You need not worry about such tasks.” Roman listened as he piled food onto his plate.

“Yeah, I know but I still could help.”

Virgil looked thoughtful for a moment as he sat down at the head of the table. “Perhaps,” was all he said as he watched Roman way for the second night.

Roman waited a few bites before stopping. “Are you not going to eat?” He asked as he looked at the baren space on the table in front of Virgil.

Virgil glanced down and back at him before shrugging. “I ate earlier.”

Roman frowned. He didn't believe it. But he wasn't going to ask anymore questions. He couldn't, otherwise, Virgil might notice something's up and be on to him. “So, what kind of work do you do?” Roman asked as he turned back to his food, keeping a discreet eye on the other.

“I work as an author.”

Roman nodded. “What kind of work do you write?”

Virgil leaned back in his chair. “Mostly horror, or supernatural stuff. Although I have written a few crime stories.”

“Do you think I could read any of them?”

Virgil's stormy grey eyes shot over to look at him. “You'd really want to read one?” He asked, skeptically.

Roman nodded as he swallowed this bite of food. “Yeah, I have to imagine living in an old castle like this helps with the imagination. I think I'd like to read what came from it.”

Virgil's eyes studied him for a moment to see if he was genuinely interested. After a few moments he dropped the intense gaze and sighed. “Sure. Do you have any preferences?”

“I'm sure whatever you pick will be fine.”

Virgil nodded absently as he watched Roman. “I'll drop the book off before you go to bed.”

“Okay.” Roman nodded as he ate his food. The silence stretched between them for a few moments until Roman cleared his throat. “The food is delicious. Where'd you learn to cook?”

Virgil looked over to Roman. “My mother. She taught me all I know.”

“She must be a lovely women.”

Virgil nodded, suddenly looking nostalgic. “Yeah,” he breathed. “She was. She really was.”

Roman froze. Oh, Roman. You dunce. He turned to Virgil. “I'm sorry. I didn't mean to-”

Virgil shook his head. Cutting Roman off, he said, “It's alright. It was a long time ago. She's in a better place now.”

Roman gave a small sympathetic smile to the other before turning back to his food. As he ate, he tried to ignore the sinking feeling in his gut. Maybe he should stop learning things about his host. If he learned that what the cashier had said was true, that there were devils in this castle and his host was one of them, it would be best he had not gotten close and humanized the beast.

Roman snuck a glance at Virgil as the other let his guard down and stared off into space, thinking, or perhaps just being. Roman felt his heart sigh as he watched the softened features of his host.

Virgil's eyes were no longer a cold grey. They were the softness of the clouds, not quite thunderclouds but they were getting there. His icy pale skin was now the soft clouds of dreams and fantasies. His expression was calm; no tension. Not even the normal stiff jaw. Roman found, that in the soft light of the great hall they sat in, his host was, dare he say it? Dreamy? Of course, Roman would never admit this. He didn't want to sound like a lovesick fool.

Roman wasn't the one who became lovesick. He was the one who caused the lovesickness! He was the one who made people fall for him. He didn't fall in love like this! He wasn't the one who stuttered in front of their crush! He was the smooth one! Yet, Roman couldn't deny that Virgil had caught him off guard. He found himself really wishing that the cashier was wrong. He didn't want to think what he would have to do if he feel in love with a beast. His heart squeezed at the thought. He swallowed thickly. His duties came first. It didn't matter that he wasn't a real prince or knight. What mattered was his honor. He had promised the people (cashier) that he would save them from the evils they told him of. And he would keep his word. Roman stabbed at a meatball.

Even if it meant his heart breaking in the process.

-----

Roman let out a frustrated sigh as he ran a hand through his hair. He wasn't falling in love with his host. Nope. Not at all, it wasn't possible. It wasn't going to happen. He glanced at the book on his bedside table and felt his breath catch in his throat.

His host was being so kind to him, and here has was thinking about him as if he were a monster to be slain. He pulled at his curls. This would be so much easier if he could just know. But he knew his heart would never let him completely remove himself from anything he did. His heart, his passion, went into every decision he made.

Roman let out a resigned sigh as he reached over and plucked the book from the table and pulled it into his lap. “The Dragon Witch's Destruction,” he read. The cover was fairly unassuming. It was dark, the silhouette of, what could only be a witch, looking over a small town. And its eyes was a jaded green with slitted pupils like that of a cat's. He flipped the novel over and read the summary. “The tale of the villain. How the dragon witch's destruction revealed the true motive behind Maleficent's curse.”

Roman felt a tingle run up his spine. It was practically Disney fan fiction! And he was excited! He loved Disney! And this darker side of things seemed just like something right up Virgil's alley. A broad smile spread across his face. Maybe he could discuss Disney with Virgil!

Roman cracked open the book as he snuggled into his luxurious bed. For now, he would forget his dilemmas. For now, he would be transported into the world of fairytales. For now, “Once Upon A time, there was a witch who had the wonderful ability to turn into a dragon at will…” Roman read deep into the night. His troubles silenced by the wonderful world of Disney.