The smell of coffee swirls in the air as Virgil took a good long sip of it. He blinks tiredly, sat half hazardly on a stiff stained ruined couch. Morning light softly lightens up the living room, even with the foggy weather of fall.

He held his digital camera, flicking through picture of picture. God he'd never capture their etherealness. Truly ever. Grumbling as he hung his gangly legs closer to his chest. Flick. Not good enough. Flick. Lightnings off. Flick. Too blurry- flick, too obvious-

Then he heard those beloathed footsteps of his roommate, he shoved his camera into his hoodie. With a harsher glare then he'd typically be bothered to muster

"What do you want normie?"

Virgil sighs, sitting up more properly.