Roman was humming a song from a musical and writing something on the top bunk when he heard the door open with a crash.

"Alexander Hamilton!" He finished before closing his poetry book and looking down. "Oh, hey Re. What d'you want?"

"My 20 quid." Remus said simply. Roman rolled his eyes.

"Remus, it's not even been one month let alone two and I'm not giving up."

"You'll get friend-zoned. I can see it."

"Oh, so you're Cassandra then?" Roman asked, rolling his eyes and opening his notebook again. "Look, I don't have time for this."

"Whatcha writing?"

Roman noticed the sudden change of subject but he didn't think it would be a problem. Remus had a very short attention span.

"Poem. I'm pretty sure that surprises no one, Re."

Remus rolled his eyes and climbed on the bottom bunk, standing on his tip-toes and leaning against the guard of the top bunk. Roman pointed at the stairs.

"You do realise that there are stairs right there."

"Mhm. This is just more fun."

Roman rolled his eyes. "If you break a bone, don't say I didn't warn you."

"I'd like to break a bone." Remus decided.

"No. You really wouldn't." Roman said, remembering the time he had fractured his wrist. It hadn't been anything too serious but it had hurt.

"Who's the poem for?" Remus asked, changing the subject at lightning speed again.

"Myself? I'm just writing this because I want to."

"Hm, sure. You sure it's not for Virgil?"

"I swear, I will push you off this bed. You nearly blew my cover yesterday, what gives?"

Remus giggled. "You were getting too comfortable, Roman. I was just reminding you of the ticking time bomb above your head." He poked the top of Roman's head quite hard.

"Ow. Get off me." Roman said, swatting at Remus' hand. Remus giggled again and tried to look at Roman's poem which Roman shielded. Remus groaned.

"You're no fun."

"Good." Roman said as Remus jumped down, making a loud, dull noise as he hit the ground. He sighed. "Look, why would I be writing a poem for Virgil? I don't even know if he likes me yet."

Virgil was busy. He was listening to music while doing the exact opposite of what his mum had asked him to. He was meant to be supervising Issac and Annie as they played in the garden. "They're 9-year-olds." Virgil had thought. "They can take care of themselves."

So here he was. Sitting, listening to Queen songs and doing nothing that his mum had asked him to do. He half-expected someone to knock on the wall next to him, trying to get his attention, but nothing happened. He could just sit here and think. Think about whatever he pleased.

His thoughts were drifting very close to someone. Someone Virgil didn't really want to think about more than you would usually think about a friend. He was thinking about Roman Winston. Again.

There was nothing really interesting to think about, Virgil had already gone over everything at least once before when thinking about Roman. But Virgil's mind didn't really seem to care. It just kept floating back to the thought of Roman.

Virgil didn't hate it, he just found it very annoying that all subjects of thought somehow led his mind back to Roman Freaking Winston. It was confusing and making Virgil's attention span shorter. Really, he just wanted to think about anything else but no. It had to be his new friend.

Could he even call Roman that? A friend? They'd only started talking a few days ago. Well, two weeks ago if you counted the amount of times Roman had tried to strike up a conversation and failed. But that was how Virgil thought of Roman, right? A friend? Nothing more and nothing less. Yeah, that made sense.