Do I have 5 drafts I need to write? Yes
Am I going to write them?... No

Falling:

Virgil didn't fall in love fast. He never had. Whether that was because of his constant anxiety that whoever he loved was going to leave him or just simply because of his general dislike of people, he'd never fallen in love very fast.

However, when he did fall in love (which was rarely) he fell very, very intensely.

And this time, he'd dived rather than fell.

They'd been in Spain and it had been midnight or there-abouts. For Roman's brother's stag party, they'd gone down to a beach with several crates of beers (and some much stronger drinks) and simply just drank. It was pretty much how Remus had wanted it.

Anyway, Virgil had been standing off to the side, cupping his drink in his hands and watching his boyfriend. Roman. Always the life of the party.

With bright green eyes and equally bright pink cheeks from all the alcohol in his system (Roman hadn't had his hair dyed then, if Virgil remembered correctly), Roman had been yelling loudly in some sort of mix of Spanish and English that he was going to do the fire walk.

Oh yeah, that was one of the things Remus had insisted on for his stag do. A fire walk. Virgil thought it was the stupidest idea ever but he wasn't the groom so he'd said nothing.

Roman had run over to him immediately after he'd finished, hopping from one foot to the other and swearing loudly. Virgil couldn't help but laugh.

But something about it all had changed that night. It was the stupidest night to fall in love but maybe that was what made it so perfect.

Realising:

It hadn't been until the year after that Virgil realised he was in love.

They were in Spain again and driving Roman's busted old red car he'd gotten at 18 and never sold. Roman had his hair dyed then, a bright pink that offset his eyes perfectly and complimented his personality even more.

Bright. Loud. Extroverted, exuberant. Everything that Virgil wasn't and yet so loved.

They'd been driving, Roman at the wheel and Virgil riding shotgun. Roman had had his bright red and gold shades on, the wind in his hair, the biggest smile on his face. He'd insisted on putting on what he called the 'Cottagecore Album' - which was really just Taylor Swift's 'Folklore' - and was singing as loud as he could.

Virgil had been sat next to him, wearing a T-shirt for once. He didn't remember anything else about what he'd looked like that day. It hadn't mattered. What had mattered was Roman.

Roman had whooped at the next song (Virgil seemed to recall it was 'August' but he wasn't sure if it was right or not) and turned the stereo up even more.

"Princey, you're going to damage our ear-drums if you do that much more." Virgil had yelled over the wind and music.

"Solo se vive una vez, mi amor!" Roman had called back. "Let's enjoy it! Let's be reckless!"

Virgil hadn't replied to that. He had felt like he couldn't because it was like there was a balloon swelling up inside him, clogging his throat. It was almost painfully, how intense it was.

That's when Virgil realised.

He was in love.

Confessing:

It wasn't like there weren't opportunities. There were countless times Roman had insinuated, joked about and outright said that he'd loved Virgil.

Virgil just couldn't find a way to say it back.

It's not that he wasn't- obviously, it wasn't. It was just... whenever he tried to tell Roman how stupidly, recklessly in love he was, the words just wouldn't make it past his lips.

They'd been dating for 3 years and Virgil still hadn't managed to say it.

So, now was his chance. Not his last chance, only his most obvious. And dear God, he was nervous.

So, so nervous that it felt like the ring in his pocket was burning a hole through his jeans.

Virgil couldn't keep track of what he was saying. All he knew was that he was properly fucking up, jumping between Gaelic and English. Which he always did when he was nervous.

And then Roman was holding his hand and tilting his face up to look at him.

"Hey, hey, mi amor, calm." Roman said softly. "Breathe." Virgil felt his heart swell a little more at Roman's tone. "Yeah?" Virgil nodded mutely. "Great. What is it?"

Virgil took another breath. "Roman," he said quietly, "I love you." And then he was gabbling again, with no idea of where the words were going. At least he was staying in one language, which was a bonus.

It was only when he was staring down at the black ring box clutched in his hand that he realised he'd brought it out of his pocket. Had he asked yet? He honestly had no clue, the words weren't making it past his brain to fall out of his mouth.

It was only when Roman was dragging him into a kiss that was more a smile than a press of lips that Virgil realised he'd probably asked. But not like that was important. Because right now, he was being kissed by Roman and everything in the world was only his lips and his smile and his hands cupping Virgil's face.

Virgil laughed nervously when the kiss broke. "So that's a yes?" He asked sheepishly.

"Of course it's a yes!" Roman crowed. "How could I say no to you, mi cielo, I love you!"

Virgil couldn't help but laugh again. "I love you too."

*pushes pink sunglasses up my nose*
MAYBE IF I LOOK AT IT THROUGH ROSE-TINTED GLASS, IT'LL GET BETTER!
Anyway, this is my apology for no chapter today. Hope you like it more than I do
Bye,
Blaize