Array
(
[text] =>

Vergil threw up a little. But he swallowed right after, so it was all good. Just a little nervous throw up.

He touched his neck with the tips of his fingers, gawking at the gym building. His carotid artery pulsed very noticeably beneath the thin skin of his neck, seeing as he'd checked every hallway of the college until he deduced the man must've been cleaning the gym. He was now trying to catch his breath from all the running.

Meanwhile, he fixed the bouquet of flowers here and there. Some had died from the day before but it was still relatively decent looking.

When he finally managed to breathe in and out with no interruption, he took one step after another until he was in the men's locker room. He strode right through it and into the gym.

Yes, there he was.

Vergil randomly got on his toes, all the breath he's been struggling to suck in spilling all over the freshly washed floor. Luckily, the man didn't get to hear his choking noises, for he was listening to music, tiny headphones covering his ears.

His sleeves were pulled up to his elbows, exposing mostly black tattoos distorted by thick veins. The Norwegian seemed to be listening to, surely enough, Norwegian metal.

Vergil had been introduced to an entire map of rock genres by none other than Stevo. Seeing as he liked learning stuff, no matter how irrelevant, Vergil knew it by heart.

And it sounded like Mr. Janitor was listening to IMMORTAL. Which was pretty funny, seeing as Mr. Janitor was everything the band wasn't. Mortal (visibly so), calm, peaceful, quiet, ever so quiet!

Vergil let out a giggle by mistake. It was a nervous sort of burst of air, really, and it did little to stop the trembling of his inner organs.

Mr. Janitor didn't hear him over the persistent drums and throaty screams. Hence, Vergil got to get closer and observe his moping action.

Peculiar, at that. There were wide mops available (big wooden crosses with rags at the end) that would get the gym wiped in maybe eight strides. But Mr. Janitor was using a tiny, ordinary mop.

Vergil cleared his throat, afraid to scare the man. He raised his arm and hesitantly poked Mr. Janitor's bicep. Firm bicep.

He blushed instantly, a shade of red bolting across his face in a flash and goose bumps covering every inch of his skin.

"..hello..." he whispered quietly. Not that yelling would've made a difference with the man's headphones still on.

He took them off and glanced at Vergil's tiny frame as it uselessly tried to hide the bouquet of flowers behind. He was pencil-thin, nothing could go behind his back without being noticed.

"Are those for me?"

He'd asked that with such plain expression, void of any spark of interest, that Vergil acted on impulse.

"Ah. No."

Silence.

They just kind of stood there until strands of ashy blond hair slid from behind the man's ear. It snapped Vergil out of it.

"Yes..."

He brought the flowers to view, a few dead petals dropping on the way.

"The cactus never did get to you... so... I went and picked these. Well, a girl helped me. Actually she picked them all... from the fields. She doesn't know they're for you, so don't... think she knows they're for you... no one knows..."

Right. Hand him the flowers while assuring him no one suspects him of criminality.

The man let go of the worn wooden handle of the mop to replace it with bright, beautiful little flowers. It was an amazing sight! He didn't suit the things one bit, and it sort of struck Vergil that... perhaps it was maybe weird for him to be the one giving the flowers.

But... Mr. Janitor had the longer hair and so Vergil assumed he'd be the one to receive flowers in a relationship. Didn't count in the tattoos and height and age and veins crossing his arms.

"Thank you for the flowers. I put them in water." the man said, just before dropping them in water. Dirty, mop bucket water.

Vergil jumped back a little and witnessed the man poke them under and spin them around with the mop before letting it drop to the floor with a splash. He went on about his business.

The boy started twisting his sleeves violently. It was a brand new peach-coloured cardigan, too. Not on the pink side, on the beige side. With just a tint of pink, he'd tell himself.

But Mr. Janitor saw it as pink. A short, scrawny boy with pitch black hair that nearly touched his bony shoulders covered by a light pink cardigan over a coffee-coloured t-shirt. And then bird-like legs in skinny jeans, naturally. He might as well have been carrying a teddy-bear and crying 'daddy'.

Mr. Janitor went to pull up his headphones.

"Why do you use a tiny mop?"

Mr. Janitor paused and looked at him in something near dumbfound. He must've been expecting Vergil to run away crying, but no.

Sweaty palms, tingly chest, wobbly spine, it all might sound like a bad time in general but Vergil was loving it. It was different from panic attacks... It was like a happy attack. But the sort of happy that makes you want to cry while throwing up. Well, Vergil wasn't the best at interpreting his feelings, but he knew one thing: he liked being around the man.

And seeing as it would take him so much inner battle and courage to begin interacting with him, he did his best to stretch their... moments. Weird as they were.

"I get paid by the hour." the janitor replied eventually. "Takes more hours to mop with this."

Vergil paced around awkwardly, keeping an eye on the sorrily floating flowers. White, light blue, violet, yellow petals slowly turning the same shade of dirty, brownish grey in the mop water. "But it must be torturous..."

The man shrugged. "Therapeutic, rather."

He looked back at Vergil, over his hunched, broad shoulders, and blinked slowly. "You're making the floor dirty."

Vergil jumped, looking behind to notice his dusty footprints. "I'm so sorry!"

Mr. Janitor got on cleaning his trail. That left Vergil frozen on his spot. "I... I can't leave now or I'll make a mess again." he said sheepishly. He wasn't trying to be flirty, it was a fact, but he blushed nonetheless.

Mr. Janitor sucked in his lips. "That seems to be the case."

It was very much like their last encounter: with the man cleaning around Vergil, Vergil frozen in spot as to not make a further mess. The last time it was dirt from the cactus, now it was water from the bucket. Earth, water, hopefully it wouldn't ever get to fire.

"So... didn't you like the flowers?"

The man shook his head. "I didn't like you giving me flowers."

Vergil scratched his head, but his scalp was really hurting in that particular spot from previous such impulses so he stopped.

"So... you don't like me..."

Much to Vergil's surprise, the man didn't seem to be getting annoyed. It was weird. Vergil was used to everyone in his life eventually getting tired of his weird autistic shenanigans.

But Mr. Janitor seemed to be in constant disconnection from his surroundings. Vergil included.

"No... I don't." he said factually.

"Why not?" Vergil asked. "I don't mean it like that, necessarily... I just want us to be friends, if you don't..." his breath slipped and he was on fire. "We could hang out... I mean, I like your company, and... why not?"

The janitor finally faced him again. He looked him up and down and then shrugged. "I don't like your hair."

Vergil might've been weird in the head, but he could tell the man was just running out of excuses.

"That's not- that doesn't make any sense..." Each sentence he spilled was like breaking another one of his limits. And Mr. Janitor's limits.

"It does. I think it looks silly and it offends me."

Vergil laughed into his sleeve, and with it his nervousness dispersed a tad. "You aren't serious. People must've picked on your hair a lot, too."

"What are you saying?"

"Nothing. I like it, personally."

Silence fell over them, save for the wet splashes and distant sound of IMMORTAL. Vergil cleared his throat, taking a tentative step towards the departing man.

"So... Have you given it some thought?"

Pale gray-blue eyes once again met his. Their color somehow made the dark circles underneath stand out plenty.

He looked at Vergil in consideration and then took a deep breath. Strands of hair flied from over his right eye with the exhale.

"Thursday. Wait in the parking lot."

Vergil's knees buckled, his throat swelling up. He heard the left sleeve of the cardigan rip a little in his fierce grip.

"So... It's a date...?"

The man sketched a frown. "Play-date."

He put on his headphones and finally went about his work.

Vergil didn't understand what he meant by that. He wouldn't, not until Thursday arrived.

And boy, did Thursday arrive.

From Monday to Thursday, Vergil has had just the right amount of time to lose his shit entirely. He was a mess.

Just, in general. The past few days have been a literal mess. Few things he touched hadn't ended up on the floor, few people around him had escaped awkward elbows, but the epitome of it all must've been him forgetting entirely to eat. For well over a day.

It was just, he mistook the butterflies in his stomach as actual matter filling his insides. But no. He was empty, very much so, his bellybutton on its way towards greeting his spine. That empty.

"You know what... I came to a conclusion." Ethan said from across the table.

Stevo looked up from his meal, as they were at lunch. Vergil remained but a human carcass.

"You're probably right, Stevo." he sighed genuinely and started playing with his vegetarian meal. Why yes Ethan was a vegetarian, what self-respecting artist isn't? "It is most probable that Vergil developed a crush on me, and not you. I mean, it's pretty self-explanatory, I just didn't want to take the responsibility."

Vergil quietly exhaled through his nose, far too tired for all that. And maybe a little too dizzy.

"Wait- what?" Stevo laughed bitterly and look to his left, at Ethan. "For the last week you've been saying how it sure has to be me since it's me he asked to kiss."

Ethan moved the thick, curly bangs away from his forehead, showing those large blue eyes lowered at the outer corners, complemented by long black eyelashes, only to roll them with a sigh.

"Well duh he'd ask you for a practice kiss. Why'd he ask his actual crush for a practice kiss?"

"Dude." Stevo laughed. "Be serious."

Vergil shook his head a little. They've tried to throw Vergil at one another only to now kind of fight for him. They were ridiculous.

He placed his head on a hand and looked to the left, at the table with the cool popular kids. Well, he was looking at the trashcan they took turns darting food wrappers at. He was looking at Mr. Janitor standing by the trashcan, sweeping every wrapper that missed and putting it in.

The guys kept thanking him, though, so they weren't trying to be mean. They were just having fun, and Mr. Janitor was just socializing by commenting on their poor aim.

Mr. Janitor looked up and caught Vergil's eyes, at which Vergil looked down to the table and resisted the urge to throw up. Well, he needn't put much of an effort, considering his lack of content.

"What the hell Vergil." Stevo snapped. "Don't tell me it's someone from over there?" he pointed at the table of jocks.

Vergil closed his eyes.

"Is it Derk? That's just Stockholm's syndrome." Ethan added.

Vergil shook his head, eyes still closed. He heard nothing for the next few moments, only to look up and see them focus on him, the subject of their conversation, for the first time that day.

"Are you okay dude?" Stevo eyed him up and down, taking in the oversized black hoodie, the sleeves covering his hands. Meanwhile, Stevo was wearing a tank top and Ethan was wearing a plain white t-shirt.

Stevo reached over the table and took hold of Vergil's wrist only to cup his hand with his other one. "You're freezing!"

Ethan frowned, reaching over to grip his other hand. "Vergil do you have a cold?"

Vergil sketched a tiny smile and retreated both hands under the table, hunching over them. "I'm... I feel kind of faint."

Even saying it out loud made him think of the reason: a date with Mr. Janitor in a matter of hours! Well, play-date, whatever he meant by that. He groaned a little and felt like starting to cry.

"Why aren't you eating, when's the last time you ate!" Stevo snapped. "Are you trying to become Stevo-skinny? No? Well eat a fucking burger you twat!"

Stevo would have reason to be mad. He used to be chubby and now he was all bones due to idolizing "Stevo", that stupid character in that stupid movie.

"I'm not trying to... oh."

It was then that he realized he'd only eaten lunch, the day before yesterday. Only because his mother had made him eat it, a plate of broccoli with melted cheddar cheese on top.

His stomach started growling. Bad. But then the date, and butterflies took right over the tiny tingles. He shook his head and whined quietly.

"I'm too nervous to eat."

Upon receiving equally bewildered looks, he, naturally, started playing with his sleeves.

"I asked the guy I like on a date and he said yes."

Stevo gaped and Ethan cocked his head.

They spent the rest of lunch break in silence.

"Hello?" Becca answered Vergil's call.

"H-hi, Becca... I called to say I'm terribly sorry for what I said. I'm kind of awkward like that, I didn't mean anything by it, you're a very pretty girl and all but as you know I'm I like the- Jesus Christ Becca the flowers did it I'm going on a date in a matter of minutes I'm freaking out please help!"

He took a deep breath, clutching the phone to his ear and shaking in his pants. His eyes consumed the parking loft from left to right and up and down (as if Mr. Janitor could possibly be in some tree).

Becca paused for a long time before choosing to laugh at his ways. "Vergil I'm so happy for you, really! If there's one thing you'll want to know when dating this girl is that girls tend to be overdramatic." she laughed. "I'm not that upset that my peck grossed you out."

Vergil's mouth parted a little, confession tickling his lower lip. He could just tell her it was really a guy, hence the reason he found her unappealing. No, it wasn't the time to have that conversation, not now.

"Jesus... I might cry, I think." he threw a hand into his hair, gripping. "I don't like this, I want to go home and watch my ants and search the house for spiders and organize my books!"

Becca awed long and girly. "I can't handle you! Aw Vergil, she's so lucky. As long as you don't show her any insect, don't do that."

Vergil laughed breathlessly only to kind of choke on it as he saw Mr. Janitor. It was not like in the movies, absolutely nothing prepared him for the sight of the man: no suspenseful music coming to a stop, no birds flying away, no dramatic zoom effect on the corner of the building. Nothing! He just sort of came to view, striding his way like inevitable death.

Only it wasn't death, it was his 40 years old crush.

"Vergil? You good?"

"Ghyeah!" Vergil squeaked. It didn't reach Becca, for she kept asking him what was up through fits of laughter. He eventually closed the call and put the phone in his pocket before letting his second hand go into his hair.

He let go when Mr. Janitor got close enough. He wouldn't want the man touching his wrists again- that'd just end him.

"Here." the man said, holding out a paper bag.

Oh God. Vergil had to hold stuff. He's been sucking at that lately.

He took it and it rustled in his shaky grip. He peeked inside to see a neat little sandwich. By the time he looked up, the man was gone, leading the way to his car.

Vergil felt himself sort of smile as he went to follow him. But then the sidewalk suddenly ended and his foot landed on thin air.

He tumbled and fell over the sandwich.

Talk about cringey...

Hello my 4 fans left! I got some free time so here's this! Enjoyyyyy...

[text_hash] => d5a97a37
)