TW: arranged marriage

1800s au

{Third Person POV}

Virgil ran, he ran to the exact spot he knew his lover would be. He felt the snow crunch underneath his steps as he ran, almost slipping face first into said snow as he did so.

He got to the spot, seeing the boy he loved so, sitting on a snow covered bench, a small notebook in his hand as he quickly wrote.

Just then he glanced up, seeing Virgil standing there, puffs of fog coming out of his mouth with each pant he let out from running so fast and far. He walked in long strides to the boy on the bench, who stood when he got in earshot, "Virgil-"

He got cut off just as fast as Virgil had ran to him, feeling the other connect his lips to his in a sweet, loving, and meaningful kiss.

He wrapped his arms around his waist, moving one hand up to the side of his face, Virgil putting one of his hands on his reassuringly, as if telling him everything would be alright, that past and future problems wouldn't harm them in any way.

That everything was alright.

Now and forever.

~

Virgil walked up to his friend of many years, seeing him happily swinging his legs over his stool under a tree. "Hello Roman." He greeted him, sitting on the stool next to his, "Good afternoon Virgil." He greeted, looking up from the small notebook he was previously writing in.

"What are you writing?" "Just a simple poem." He responded, going back to the page he was writing on.

"Well what is it?" He asked curiously, attempting to look at the writing in the page, "It's private." He said as he shooed his friend away. "Can I please take a look?" "No Virgil, you cannot." "Hm.. alright."

"Virgil?" Roman asked after a few moment of the two sitting in comfortable silence, "Yes?" "Do you know what it's like," he started as he looked up at the sunny sky above them, "to love?"

Virgil was taken aback at the question, "But Roman, you write poems about love, you know what it feels like." "I know what it feels to love but, I do not know what it feels like to feel love." His friend gave him a confused stare, not understanding what he meant.

"I mean, I know what it feels to love someone, but not to feel love in return." "You do not?" He shook his head, looking out at the field in front of them, looking at each little flower in the long grass. "Who is it that you love?" He asked, his voice much quieter and softer than he meant for it to sound.

Roman let out a chuckle, shutting his notebook, "That, Virgil, I cannot tell."

He stood and walked away, leaving the other to ponder over what he had just told and asked him.

"About your question," Virgil said as he sat next to his friend, who was now sitting on his bed, once again writing, "I do not know what it feels to be loved, but much like you I do know what it feels to love someone." "Really?" He asked, not looking up from his writing.

"Yes, although I am not completly sure on who it is I love." "I do know who I love." "Could you please tell me?" He asked, looking over at him, "No, but I can give you hints." "Could you?" He asked hopefully, "But of course."

He sat up straighter, shutting his notebook, "They're a friend of mine."

Virgil thought, who was a close friend of Roman's, who was also a girl? He had never actually seen his friend talk to any girls, beside his sister and mother of course.

"They love the colour violet."

He thought again, trying to recall any women Roman talked to that loved the colour violet, but he only knew one person who loved the colour violet, and that was himself.

"They draw quite well."

They draw well... so this girl draws, loves the colour violet, and is his friend. Odd, that sounds like him.

"And he's in this room."

At this he somewhat froze.

Although, you cannot freeze if you were not moving in the first place.

He turned to his friend, being met with the other's dark hazel eyes, seeing a more than platonic love in his eyes. He sucked in a breath, before uttering one word in a quiet voice, "W-what?"

"He's in this room." Roman repeated, and Virgil noticed the two were close than he remembered being, "He is?" He asked, and... wow, is it just him or are they even closer?

Roman gave a small smile before whispering, "Yes, he is." Now Virgil could feel his hot breath on his as he spoke.

Before he could move any closer he felt a soft pair of lips press gently, almost hesitantly, against his.

He.. didn't know how to feel.

This moment, right here, feels so good to him, he felt... alive, in a way. But.. it also felt wrong, so, so, wrong, but God it felt so right at the same time.

He kissed his friend since childhood back, he kissed this perfect man in front of him back. The man that supposedly loves him, but he had another thought.

He was kissing a man.

Not a woman, a man.

And you know what?

He doesn't care, at all actually.

What felt like all too soon Roman pulled away, "Roman?" "Y-yes?" "May we do that again?" He asked uncertainly, not wanting to push him, "God, please."

Virgil didn't need to be told twice, he leaned close once again, this time kissing all over the other's face, the tip of his nose, his cheeks, his temple, his closed eyelids, before his lips were grazing the other's, just barely.

He pushed himself to kissing him again.

Somehow this felt even better than the last one or the first one in other words. This time although, he grabbed his hand, squeezing it gently, the other doing it back.

They pulled away again, "Roman?" Instead of a verbal answer he hummed, "What are we?" He let out a breath, "I suppose it makes us... boyfriends." "Really?" "Well, yes, that is- if you want to be."

He gave him a small smile, "Of course I would." "That's a relief."

After months, but what felt like years, something happened, something that they didn't know how to handle.

Virgil was waiting in the usual spot he did for his lover, a bench in the graveyard.

Yes, it was odd, but it was also quiet, and no one came when they did, it was perfect for the two. He heard a crunch of snow and shot his head up from the book he was reading by the candle in his hand, seeing Roman standing there, a sad expression on his face, "Is something wrong dear?" He asked as the other sat next to him.

"N-no, everything is f-fine." He stuttered out, but Virgil was smarter than he thought, "Roman," he took his hand, "please tell me what is wrong."

Roman felt a single tear roll down he eye before pulling Virgil in a tight embrace, the other hugging him back.

After a few minutes of the two staying like that Roman answered in a hushed voice, "I have to get married." Virgil pulled away, "Wh-what?" "Father found a woman for me to marry." "When is the wedding?"

"Um.. next week."

"What? Isn't that a little soon?"

"Actually.. He told me last week."

"What!? You didn't think about telling me then?"

He flinched slightly at the other raising his voice, "I did, I was hoping he would change his mind." "But, you know he doesn't." "I know, trust me. But, I was hoping that just once, he would."

"Okay, well," he stood, kissing the top of his head, "see you at the wedding."

~

Roman was now in a church, the classic wedding march playing as he saw Harriet, the girl he was supposed to marry, walking down the aisle.

He looked put at all the people in the pews before his eyes landed on a certain person.

He saw Virgil sitting next to his brother, before he could catch his eye from where he was he heard someone saying his name.

"Roman?"

He looked and seen it was the reverend, "Yes?" "Do you take Harriet to be your lawfully wedded wife?" He glanced at Virgil, who seemed to be trying to hold back tears, then at his father, who was waiting for his son to say I do.

He took a breath in, "I do."

He heard footsteps walking out but didn't have to turn to know who it was.

It was now later, nine thirty at night to be exact, and Roman was out at the usual spot him and Virgil would meet at, writing a poem about how he felt about Virgil, about the wedding, about everything.

Harriet was asleep when he left, so he didn't worry about her.

He heard footsteps but didn't look up until he had the nagging feeling someone was staring at him. He looked up, seeing Virgil.

They stared at each other before he started taking long strides to him, Roman standing, "Virgil-"

He got cut off by the other kissing him, and he immediately kissed him back, wrapping his arms around his waist and resting one hand on the side of his face, feeling Virgil hold it in reasurrence.

Now and forever.

1594 words

I actually really like this one, I got the inspiration for it while watching Mary Shelley.

Anyways,

Bi~❤💛💚💙💜