Virgil ate his spaghet, no one was going to touch it. It tasted heavenly to him, probably because he hadn't eaten for a while. He didn't have an eating disorder, he just was really paranoid lately.

"I guess you like my cooking." Roman said, pride in his voice. The emo looked at the preppy one and smirked.

"To be honest it taste meh, I just haven't eaten in awhile." The emo answered. Roman let out his offended Prince noise and put his hand over his chest.

The prince's dramatic pose got Virgil to crack a smirk. Even if the emo didn't admit it, he somewhat loved watching Roman being over dramatic. It was interesting how he could pull the poses, it was like he didn't have bones sometimes.

"Why hasn't the fairest Virgil been eating lately?" Roman asked, slowly lowering his hand. Virgil decided to ignore the fact that Romano called him fairest, guessing that it was a pale joke.

"You ever have that feeling that you're being watched?" Virgil put down his fork and waited for Roman's response.

"Of course I do! It's one of the joys of being on stage!" The actor's voice was full if excitement of being on stage.

"Yeah, but I'm sure you wouldn't want an audience watching you as you sleep or take a shower." The emo nightmare pushed his food (or what's left of it.) over to the preppy daydream, losing his appetite.

"Oh, you mean it like that...Well, I have been feeling a pare of eyes on me when ever I walk by your room..." The Pronce (okay, this typo is to good for me to get rid of) admitted, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Thanks for the comforting words, Princey." Note the sarcasm. The emo was about to stand up and walk to the couch, when Roman grabbed his hand.

PHYSICAL CONTACT. I REPEAT, PHYSICAL CONTACT. STAY CALM!

"Well, if you feel so uncomfortable around your room, you could stay with me to night." Roman's offered.

"Are you coming on to me?" Virgil smirked.

The prince became flustered and started stumbling over his words trying to redeem his offer. The darker trait laughed as he watched as Roman try his best to put a sentence together.

"You aren't saying no, Romano." Virgil said, lightly nudging his friend in the rib. Roman was as red as a Solanum lycopersicum.

"I-it's a friendly gesture!" Roman finally squeaked. "Yeah, suuuuuure." The shorter one snickered as he left the flustered prince.

"By the way, I'm taking up that 'friendly' offer of yours! The couch is way to uncomfortable to sleep on again!" The emo hollered from the end of the hall.

The prince stood in the kitchen, trying to calm down. He raised his hand to touch his check. It was warm of course.

A smile crept on his face. He'd never admit it, but something about the anxious side made him feel as though he was a disappointment of a prince.

He didn't know why, but the emo just did that to him.