The informally signed treaty of Cross Academy

                                    

                                          
Dedicated to ForeverrYoung for being such a good friend for me to talk to on this site. Also, I credit her for casting the amazing Crystal Reed for the role of Park. You're an amazing friend--thank you for sticking with me despite my awkward fangirl syndromes.
Park
We were all seated around the island in the kitchen, our coffee mugs on Elijah's wooden beverage coasters. Cross and I sat besides our fathers, facing each other, and I took the greatest pleasure in watching him squirm in his seat. For once, that composed façade had been wiped clean off of his face. He twiddled with his fingers, drumming them on the surface of the island, and tapped his shoes against the floor while our fathers conversed with each other. 
The two men were completely ignoring the tension between their children. Cross was clearly uncomfortable with the situation (boy looked like he was about to break a sweat), whereas I was happily basking in daydreams of torturing his conscience. 
Again, I swear that I am not a violent person. 
When I had asked my father about the person who was going to become my new bodyguard, I had never expected Logan Cross to be one of the candidates. My father had refused to tell me anything besides the fact that said bodyguard was one of the most prodigious agents to have ever entered this sort of business. 
I never really cared much about the identity of my bodyguards. Every time I returned to Cimeria, there was always some middle aged man or woman accompanying me. I figured my father had been kidding about the "prodigious" part. Those types of agents never wasted their time with simple guard dog jobs, even if it was for royalty. 
Now that Logan Cross sat in front of me, I knew exactly which agent my father had been going on and on about: Agent Thirteen; the boy prodigy, according to the stories told by my cousin. 
I had heard of him--just not his actual name. He was called Agent Thirteen and his reputation was so well-known, I'm pretty sure you could be living in the lost city of Atlantis and still know the stories of Agent Thirteen. 
The boy had exceeded expectations at XYZ  (and all around the world, if I may add). I even heard rumors that he had been offered a spot in the Order of the Dragons recently, the elite undercover defense team of Cimeria, which is an offer that was exceptionally hard to receive. 
Now that very boy was sitting in my kitchen, unable to meet my eyes every time he looked up. It was as though I was Medusa, and he was terrified that I would turn his entire body into flawless stone. 
Oh, how the tables have turned. 
This moment definitely deserved a t-shirt. 
I continued staring at Cross, determined to make him as uncomfortable as possible until my father cleared his throat. The two men stood up in sync. Lance fixed the front of his black coat while my father pulled the hood of his hoodie over his head and slid a pair of black sunglasses onto his face. 
"We're going for a walk," my father announced. 
"What?" Cross asked, his head snapping up as he spoke for the very first time since he got here. His eyes were now golden under the fading sunlight streaming in from the window above the kitchen sink as they danced between my father and his. 
"I think it's a good idea to let you two get to know each other," Lancelot Cross said with a beam on his face as he clapped his son on the back. "You're going to be her bodyguard for a very long time. Talk to each other. Break the ice!"
I then concluded that holding in my laughter at that very moment was one of the hardest things I had ever accomplished in my life. 
"You'll behave, right, sweetheart?" my father asked, resting his hand on my head. Then, he turned to Logan and added, "I'd be cautious if I were you, my boy. She tends to be quite...unruly with new bodyguards."