"Roman? Roman, honey? It's time for-"

"Mum, do I have to go?" Roman asked, lifting his bright green eyes to the door.

"What are you talking about? Usually you love Stagecoach." His mum's brow furrowed. "What's up?"

Roman sighed and sat up, wiping his eyes. "Nothing. I'm fine."

His mum glared at him in a worried way for a few seconds. Then, she turned her head towards the landing. "Phillip! Your son is in denial about something!"

"I know what it is, mum." Remus said, appearing by his mother's side, a toothbrush clasped in his hand. "He lost a bet."

"A bet?" Roman's mum asked, looking between the twins. "Roman, you shouldn't be crying about that."

Roman laughed. "The funny thing is, uh, it was a bet on someone. I bet with... someone that I could get this boy to fall in love with me without falling in love myself. And," he gestured outwardly with his hands half-heartedly, "I lost." He didn't look at his mum. "I'd better get ready for Stagecoach, huh?" He asked.

"Yeah, probably." And he could hear the hint of ice in his mum's tone. He heard the door close and put his head in his hands, sighing.

"I'm so, so sorry Virge." He muttered, looking up at the ceiling.

"Virgy? Are you okay?" Issac asked, running over to his older brother and hugging his arm.

"I'm fine Issac." Virgil muttered.

"Then why are you crying?" Issac asked, trying to reach Virgil's face. Virgil put his own hand up to his eye and grimaced when it came away wet. He'd promised himself he wouldn't cry over Roman anymore. Quickly, he scrubbed at his eyes.

"You wouldn't get it." He muttered, unlatching his arm from Issac and standing up.

"Maybe you should call Roman." Virgil froze. "If he's your boyfriend, shouldn't he help you not cry?"

Virgil smiled painfully, not looking at his younger brother. "I don't think this is something Roman could fix."

Roman put his phone down, second-guessing himself for the hundredth time. "Come on." He thought firmly, picking the phone up again. "Why is it so difficult to text someone?"

He sighed. He knew exactly why it was so difficult to text Virgil. Because whatever pain Roman was feeling, Virgil was feeling it but ten times worse.

"So, Theo told me that you like to play with boys hearts." A voice from the doorway said, making Roman jump. Roman shot off the kitchen counter, ready to protest against that but finding no words sprung to mind. Slowly, he sat back down.

"It wasn't meant to end like this." He muttered, closing his phone and putting it next to him. His dad sighed and leaned against the counter next to him.

"Yeah, but it did." He said. "And who's to blame?"

Roman felt the sickly weight of guilt in his stomach grow even heavier. "Me." He whispered, almost silently.

"Yeah. You agreed to the bet. You chose to do this. And I think I know why." Phillip sighed. "Same reason I nearly died at 19. You're reckless. And you're stupid and you don't think about what might happen. In short, you're a teenager."

"But I feel so bad about it." Roman muttered, still barely audible.

"And that's your morality and empathy kicking in. Except it didn't kick in before you agreed to this so, yes, you were being a teenager when you agreed to this." Roman could feel his dad's disapproving stare. "But that doesn't make it right."

"Don't you think I know that already?" He asked, pushing himself off the kitchen counter and checking the time on his phone. "I need to go."

"Where are you going?"

"Out."

Look, I can't except Phillip's death, okay? I CAN'T! HE SHOULDN'T HAVE DIED! And yes, this is Philidorsia, I ship it and I think it's cute as Hell. If you don't ship it, then that's fine. I can respect your opinion if you respect mine (oh God, am I turning into Dr Seuss?).
Bye,
Queenie