Trigger warning: nonconsensual kiss, crying, anxiety attacks.

Virgil's P.O.V.
I noticed the routine too, but I didn't pay attention to it like the kids did. I noticed the little quirks in Roman's behavior, but I didn't pay much attention to them either. What I was paying attention to was the way I had been feeling since I got back from being sick.

When Roman was gone, I felt horrible. All I could think about was him, but thinking about him and knowing he wasn't home made me so upset. I would try to divert my thoughts to something else, like songs or poetry, but then I would think about Roman singing or all the poems I wrote about him. When he got home, I had the overpowering urge to be with him at every moment. It was like I suddenly lost control of myself around him, and I just had to be with him no matter what.

I wasn't sure what was worse, not having control over my thoughts or not having control over my body. Now, at first, I had a lot of control. Once or twice I could divert my thoughts. Once or twice I could leave Roman alone. But with each passing day I had less and less control.

I was being torn apart by myself, and there was nothing I or anyone else could do about it. I physically could not tell anyone what was going on—believe me, I tried, but the words would form in my mouth and just stay there, silent and waiting. I knew with every fiber of my being that Roman had something to do with this; the sickness, the loss of control, all of it. But for whatever reason, I couldn't tell anyone that I felt that way.

So I rotted from the inside out, and no one was able to help me because no one knew I was rotting.

Nearly two weeks after I started losing control, I reached a point of damn near insanity. I started looking for something, but what, I didn't know. A way to find out what exactly was happening to me, maybe? A way to tell someone what was going on? I searched my room frantically, hoping to find something that could inspire an idea. I read through books, poetry, and journal entries, listened to songs, looked through photos and drawings. It was at last that I had an idea when I was looking at a drawing I made years and years before. It depicted hands reaching out to pull me away from Patton, Logan, and Roman.

That's it, I thought, I never needed spoken words to express how I felt. I used songs, poetry, journal entries, and so much more. When I was cursed, I didn't just stay silent for days, I wrote down what I wanted to say. That's it, that's what I have to do, I have to write down what I want to say.

I was ecstatic. I was in control of my thoughts and actions, and I had used that control to find what could quite possibly be my way out of my personal prison. I could text my message, I thought happily. I could write it on a price of paper. I could even sing it if I really wanted to. I don't want to, but I could. In that moment I was so happy that even singing my message didn't sound so bad.

As fast as possible, I put away all my things and got out a piece of paper and a pencil. I took a minute to think about what exactly I wanted to to write, but just as I touched the pencil to the paper there was a knock on my bedroom door. I glanced at what time it was; 6:27 in the afternoon. Before he even called my name I knew it was Roman at my door.

"Come in," I yelled, feeling all the control I just had drain right out of me as the pencil fell from my hand and my legs lifted me up to greet Roman.

"Oh, I missed you so much today," he exclaimed. "More so than usual! Did you miss me?"

"Of course I did, dear," I lied.

"I've spent so much time away from you, my love, I wish I could've been with you all this time. But, as you know, the kingdom's been a wreck since the attack, and it's up to me to put it back together. You understand that, right? I would be here with you all the time if I didn't have a kingdom to run."

"Yeah, I understand that. And it's alright, this is the way it's been our whole lives. We always find time for each other, though."

"Oh, absolutely. In fact, why don't we find time for each other tonight? What do you say, my love?"

For one slight moment, my own thoughts screamed loud enough to overpower the ones that were put in my mind, telling me to think about what I was about to agree to. Remember, Virgil, there's something off about Roman. This could be an invitation to a movie night or, well, not a movie night. Think about this, Virgil, think about this. Don't agree to anything you're not comfortable with. I knew what was the safest option, and I was ready to politely pass.

But instead, the only word that came out of my mouth was 'yes.'

For the rest of the afternoon and evening, my heart raced and my thoughts ran wild. Though no one could tell just by looking at me, I was absolutely terrified. What have I agreed to? I asked myself. I tried to convince myself he was only asking for an innocent night, but no matter how many times I repeated those hopeful words, they were never anything more than hopeful words.

I hoped maybe I could find a way to get out of it, but I couldn't. So the day ended and the night began, and I found myself being led upstairs to Roman's room. He shut the door behind us, but didn't let go of my hand.

"We've spent far too much time apart in these past weeks," he said, bringing me to sit on his bed. "Certainly we must make up for lost time. What would you like to do tonight, my love?" Okay, I told myself, I have control over what happens next. I choose whether this night is good or bad. I just have to say something... I thought about what Roman and I could do, but it seemed that I had thought for just a moment too long.

"If you haven't got any suggestions, then I do." Then he leaned forward and pressed his lips to mine. I panicked and tried to get up and leave, but my body stayed right where it was. The kiss felt so wrong. It was forced and uncomfortable and just so wrong, and I couldn't take it. I shoved Roman off of me and ran to the door. I opened it up and slammed it back, then bolted down the hallway to my room.

"Virgil!" Whether or not Roman tried to catch me, I don't know. Nevertheless, I slammed my bedroom door shut, locked it, and sealed my room, making it so that no one could get in or out by any means without my permission. Then I hid under my covers and cried, wondering where I'd run away to this time.

A.N.
I apologize for anyone made uncomfortable by this scene, and/or for poorly writing it.

I'm not gonna lie, that wasn't exactly easy to write. I've never written anything nonconsensual before, nor did I ever plan to. But I had the idea for this event and I just couldn't find anything else that would work as well in the story. Thankfully, I was able to tone down the original idea to what you just read.

Adiós, guys, gals, and non-binary pals.