sometimes it takes a while but comfort eventually comes
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Virgil was frantically pacing his room, pulling at his hair, glancing between all the words surrounding him. Words on his laptop, which sat opened on the couch with many tabs open and overlapping each other. Words on the many, too many, books lying open on the floor, the table, the couch. Words on the scattered papers and notebooks he had scribbled in. Words on the wall, where the highlights of his research had been pinned in an arrangement that would make any Tumblr theorist proud. Words in a language few knew of and even fewer speak, a fact that would normally bring him comfort but now only brought frustration. And then he looked at the number. The horrible, circled date on the calendar on his wall that he had been refusing to look at. Because Virgil had one month. One month before everything caught up with him. One month before everything would fall apart. It all had started with a simple deal. A simple, selfless agreement. But now, now that simple transaction is going to destroy him.
Now Virgil Sanders had one month to make himself disappear. All for a simple deal. But then again, things are never that simple are they?