"Oh, Fuck Off!  I'm not being childish!  And I wasn't having those nightmare."

Virgil shrugged and turned around to pour his coffee into an enamel mug, breathing in the delicious scent while his flatmate continued (despite protests) to be childish. It was difficult to sympathise with someone whose emotional depth was about as profound as Dante's water dish. Nick was just having a good grumble.

"I don't know what you want to hear," Virgil carried his drink into the living room and perched himself on the edge of a battered armchair. "It's not easy for me either but I'm not about to make that somebody else's problem just because I don't want to seek professional help. That wouldn't be fair, would it?"

Talking to friends helped - would always help - but sometimes you couldn't haphazardly throw your mess on a friend's table. Virgil would never tear open his traumas to Abby or Nick, for example, not when they were already having a tough time with their own.

His suffering was not the only suffering in the world. He cradled his mug in both hands, waiting for the coffee to cool and looking at Nick with a more sombre expression.

"If you want, I can... recommend books that might help. Or meditation techniques," he added as Dante hopped off his shoulder and curled up on the seat of the armchair, purring. "I can make comfort foods, I can help you find a Legilimens therapist. But this thing you have inside your head, this fear, you have to look it in the eye and you have to do it alone."

Virgil drank his coffee and reached a hand down to pet Dante. Alone, alone, alone. Some things you can only do alone.

"I'm not trying to make it your problem.  I don't..."  Nicholas just didn't know what he wanted from Virgil.  But whatever it was, it wasn't this.  This wasn't helping him.  He didn't think it was helping Virgil.  And it certainly wasn't helping their living situation.  He meant it when he said he didn't want to move out.  It was a good flat, better than some their friends lived in.  Those that didn't have country estates to live in anyways.

He picked up his mug and finished off his tea.  At this rate he was going to need another drop of the calming potion. "I don't need any of that. Cook whatever you want.  And I don't need anyone else rooting around in my head."  He grabbed his wand from where it was laying next to the sofa and pointed it at the wireless.  It popped back to life, twice as loud as it had been before.

Raising his voice over the wireless he added, "I don't get...I know you like to do everything alone.  But the rest of us actually do care about other people and like that care to be returned.  We can't all be heartless mind-reading arseholes."  He pulled the blanket around himself and laid back down on the couch to listen to whatever program was on now.

It didn't sound like Nick knew what he was talking about - he was just confused and angry and seemed to think that Virgil had an obligation to take care of his feelings. The Wireless went on again, louder, and Dante made a disgruntled sound before slipping off the armchair and disappearing into the bedroom.

            "We can't all be heartless mind-reading arseholes."

Virgil sighed as he got up, still taking sips of coffee. He was struck by a thought that reminded him of Cepheus: you can't call someone heartless for not giving you what you wanted, emotionally. Although he was excited about seeing the older wizard this weekend, he was also preparing himself to accept that Ceph can't give him what he wanted; and that was nobody's fault.

It was just life. Occasionally disappointing.

"Good night, Nick." Virgil called out over the Wireless set, turning away to retreat into his room and between the pages of a good book.