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Logan
This was starting to look like a real bad idea.
Logan could feel the tension of the room press down on his shoulders. He nervously ran a hand through his hair, trying to figure out a way to fix the situation. He avoided Park's gaze--which turned out to be a terrible idea, because then he locked eyes with Abigail Blackewell once more.
She brought the phrase "if looks could kill" onto a whole new level.
"They're my guests!" Prince William sang from behind them. A hand patted Logan's shoulder and Logan saw the prince repeat the gesture with Darkwood. His grin was tight and his eyes glimmered with apprehension.
Logan then plastered on a relaxed smile and bowed to Queen Eliza first, then gave another bow to Abigail Blackewell. Darkwood did the same, removing his sunglasses once he stood upright and offered a dark smile to everyone. The only one that hadn't bowed was Archer, who stood tall and proud, ignoring everyone's expectant stares.
"What?" Archer asked when the seconds ticked on by and he hadn't made a move. "I have back problems."
"You're in the presence of nobility," Abigail spoke. "Show a little respect, boy."
"Oh, right." Archer smoothed the front of his jacket and then bowed to the queen--but only the queen. He stood straight, a defiant grin on his lips as he looked at everyone, completely disregarding Abigail.
Technically, he wasn't in the wrong. All nobles had to acknowledge the heads of the clans, which was why Darkwood and Logan bowed to Abigail. But all nobles, including the heads of the clans, had to bow to the royal family. And Archer was a member of the royal family.
That wasn't something Abigail knew.
She sucked in a sharp breath and her eyes flared, blue flames igniting under her lashes. She opened her mouth, but before Abigail could say a word, the queen spoke up.
"William, I'm sure our guests are exhausted from their flight. Why don't you lead them to their rooms so they can freshen up?" she suggested, stepping around the couches to stop in front of Archer. She placed a hand on her grandson's shoulder and though Archer was in disguise, it seemed that the queen knew exactly who he was.
"We weren't informed that we'd be having extra guests," Abigail chimed in stiffly, glancing coldly at Logan.
"My apologies, Lady Blackewell," Queen Eliza said. "It must have slipped my mind with the whole situation we're in at the moment."
The queen's smile was cutting and stern, as though she was daring Abigail to challenge her statement. Abigail Blackewell was no fool, however, and she knew where the boundaries between nobility and royalty lay. So her smile grew warmer and her eyes softened.
"Well, no matter, Your Majesty. It'll be a pleasure to speak with members of the Darkwood and Cross clans this holiday. And..." Her tone dripped disgust as her eyes flickered over to Archer.
"Richard Kensington the Sixth," Archer smiled. "But you can call me Dick."
Automatically, Park rubbed at her temple, shaking her head at her brother's antics. Jasper and Giselle's eyebrows shot up and they both looked to Logan, as if he could somehow convey the situation to them from where he stood. Logan could simply shrug in their direction before following Prince William out of the parlor and back into the hall.
"Richard Kensington the Sixth?" the prince repeated as they marched down the corridors with a speed fit for an intense power-walking class.
"What? I met a Harvard alumni when I was in New York with Flynn one summer and that was his name. It's a good name."
"Sure, Dick," Darkwood called out from behind the Sparrows. Logan groaned.
They were two floors up when Prince William suddenly halted in his steps. He turned to face all the boys, but though his posture was stern, he seemed almost...amused by the situation.
"Your timing is impeccable, my son," he said to Archer.
"That's why Park loves me the most." Archer grinned. "If I was forced to endure an unwanted brunch with my future in-laws, do you know how much I would pay for an interruption like this? Now our presence provides an unpleasant feeling in the air, so there'll be no more tea time for Park."
"Have you ever heard of the word, 'reschedule?'"
"Then I'll do it again. Don't underestimate me, Father. I'm Archer Sparrow, I can do anything."
The prince gave a long sigh but his smile never dropped as he looked at his son. Then, he gestured down the hall and said, "These are the guest rooms that were just tidied up this morning. I'll have Alfred get the maids on fixing up your room, Archer, so that it doesn't look like it belongs to a child anymore. Now that I think about it, though, it would still fit you perfectly."
The prince turned to Darkwood. "I'll have your room fixed too, Alexander, and you can bring your stuff down there--"
"I have my own room?" Darkwood cut in, taken aback by the prince's words. Prince William merely blinked at the interruption, appearing confused with Darkwood's flustered tone.
"Of course you do," the prince said. "Where else were you going to stay when you came back here? It's the green room you had in the summer. Park insisted that it would be your room."
The prince moved on from that point of the conversation to tell Logan about the new guest room he would have, seeing as how the one he normally occupied by Park's bedroom was now taken by Vincent (due to Abigail's request), but Logan's attention was fixated on Darkwood.
There was a small smile on his face that he kept biting down on, as though he was suppressing his happiness. But his pale eyes had brightened considerably and the dark shadow on his face lightened. Logan remembered that this was a guy with no home, no family to return to for the holidays.
Until Park extended her hand.
"Logan, Alec!" a boyish voice called from the end of the hall. Snapping out of his thoughts, Logan glanced over his shoulder and saw the youngest Sparrow charge towards them, a carefree smile on his face, his curly dark strands bouncing atop his head until he came to a stop.
"Grandmama said I could join you since she's trying to end the meeting a little early," Jasper explained. "My mother's coming soon, she's telling the kitchen staff about the extra guests for dinner." His grin grew a little wider. "It's great to see you guys! I had no idea you were coming!"
"I was dragged along," corrected Logan.
"Oh, please, the look on your face when you saw Park tells me you don't care one bit that we pulled you along. Jasper, did you know that this guy sat in front of his laptop, ate ice-cream, and cried during a rerun of The Vampire Diaries after Park left him?" Darkwood snorted.
"That was you," Archer said instantly. Darkwood nudged Archer in the ribs and made a face at the older Sparrow. That prompted Jasper to turn to Archer and he held out a hand.
"You said your name was Richard, right? Are you a friend of Logan's?" Jasper inquired.
"Why, can he not be a friend of mine?" Darkwood asked, feigning offense.
"You don't have friends, Darkwood," Logan retorted.
"Come on, Logan, aren't we platonic soulmates?"
"I'm sorry that you had to spend a plane ride with these two," Jasper laughed as he watched Darkwood imitate a breaking heart with his fingers. "More specifically, I'm sorry you had to spend time with Alec."
Archer choked on something in his throat. Logan couldn't tell if Archer was holding down a sob or a laugh. The oldest Sparrow shakily removed the sunglasses from his face. Nostalgia swam in his glassy gaze as he stared as his younger brother with parted lips, looking on the brink of tears.
Jasper stared back with alarm.
"Am I really that unrecognizable?" Archer half-laughed.
"It must be your clothes. You look like you just crawled out of the trash," Darkwood snickered.
Archer curled his lips before gesturing his hand over the front of his chest. "This," he said, "is fashion."
"What trend is it--Missing for Eight Years Then Randomly Shows Up?" Logan inquired, cocking a brow.
"What's going on?" Jasper piped up, looking back and forth between Logan and Darkwood. "Missing for eight years? What are you guys going on about?"
"Think egotistical, extremely bold, recklessly stupid, and amazingly idiotic. Take Park and turn her into a guy. Who do you get?"
"Alec Darkwood."
"I am not--" Darkwood was fuming. "Add three years."
Jasper furrowed his brows and his frown popped on his face as he attempted to make the connections with Darkwood's awful clues. He fidgeted around with the frames on his face as the seconds dragged on.
"The only person as dumb as my sister would be my brother, from what I can remember of him. But Archer's been gone for--"
His words cut off and his jaw dropped, eyes suddenly bugging out of his sockets. Jasper let go of his glasses as he gawked at his brother. "Archer?"
The corner of Archer's lips twitched. "Is that really how you talk of your older brother?"
Jasper blinked rapidly and shook his head. "No way. How is this possible? It's been...it's been eight years, you can't just be back all of a sudden. I had no idea you were--why did you leave? Are you okay? You're not dying, right?"
Jasper's rambling was cut off as Archer laughed and yanked him into a tight embrace. "I've missed you, Jazz."
Logan could hear Jasper laughing into Archer's coat as he clung to his brother. Logan suddenly felt like an intruder walking in on a private moment. Even the prince looked a little distracted, for a blissful look had glazed over his eyes as he stared at his sons with a fondness Logan found too familial to disturb.
Darkwood tapped his shoulder and the two walked off slowly, careful to keep quiet as to not disrupt the moment. They passed by a cheerful Giselle Sparrow, who welcomed the boys with an ecstatic smile. They were halfway up a second flight of stairs when Giselle's shocked cry was heard.
"So many reunions," Darkwood sighed. "It almost feels like I'm regaining a heart."
The boys stopped at the top of the steps and sat down in the entry way of the corridor. No doubt this was merely another hallway of bedrooms and portraits. Logan had no idea where they were--he hadn't properly explored the palace of Cimeria ever since he was a child. Now the palace was just the way it was when he first visited--a maze of armors and paintings and doors that led to empty wings and rooms.
"Don't you have a brother?" Logan asked. "Flynn Darkwood, right? Have you been able to get in contact with him?"
"If I could set anyone on fire, Cross, it would be him," Darkwood said, his voice cheerfully threatening. Logan's curiosity was peaked as he glanced to Darkwood, who had his eyes closed, his face scarily calm despite the fact that he had just expressed his desire to set his one relative on fire.
"I'm guessing something happened between the two of you?"
Logan knew of Flynn Darkwood. He was a member of the Order of the Dragons, but he was one of the more reclusive ones. Logan had never met the guy, but apparently Flynn was wild and violent, lethal and unyielding against anyone he deemed a threat. Unfriendly and unwelcoming, he was the Dragon that no one wanted to wake unless it was absolutely necessary.
Darkwood didn't answer for a while. Logan watched the snowfall through one of the windows while he waited for a response, which he was starting to suspect wouldn't come. However, Darkwood sighed and opened his eyes, a cold smile on his face.
He felt as though he should go find Park--she always knew how to handle Darkwood's mood swings. He often found that her methods involved a lot of slapping and "Get yourself together" lectures, but Logan doubted Darkwood would tolerate that method if it were performed by him.
"The Darkwoods aren't family folk, Cross," he stated. "We have more of a "one man for himself" mentality rather than the unity morality here. Flynn chose to leave us, so I won't look for him. I'll be a solo team until I'm dead. That's how that guy--" and he pointed to a portrait hanging by a marble bust-- "managed to survive a takeover, a rebellion, and the second golden age."
It was a portrait of Rivers Darkwood, the assassin that had assisted Alexandra Sparrow in the revolution that took back her throne.
"Didn't someone poison him because he wasn't a team player?" a new voice chimed in.
Logan nearly jolted to his feet as he realized that Park stood several steps below them. Her arms were crossed and she watched them with a scowl, making it near impossible for Logan to muster a smile.
Oh, gods, this was a terrible idea.
"We should, er, head to our rooms," Logan said quickly, his words blending into each other. Darkwood raised a brow at him, an amused smirk on his lips, but he got up without a word and followed Logan down the stairs.
Something threw him off balance (it might've been because his legs had become jelly) and he missed the last step on the flight of stairs. He fell straight into Park, and the only reason the both of them didn't crash against the wall was due to Darkwood's reflexes. He hooked the back of Logan's jacket in his hand and held him up.
"Are you okay?" Park asked, now looking more concerned than angry.
"Absolutely. Definitely. More than okay, I'm fantastic. Why wouldn't I be okay?" Logan babbled, feeling at a loss for words. What was wrong with him? He was never this way around anyone--not even Park. Yet there was an uneven racing in his chest and he found himself short of breath every time he looked at Park.
"Logan Cross, a legend among young agents, just walked into somebody," Darkwood mused. "That's a bit odd. Aren't agents supposed to be quick on their feet? Very perceptive and observant of their surroundings, right? You probably have a headache, then, Cross."
Darkwood began to walk past, but right as he brushed by Logan, he sang, "Must be from all the sexual tension."
Logan had never before felt such an urge to punch someone in the face.
Darkwood whistled a merry little tune, the sound of which faded away quickly. It left Logan in the silence, uncomfortably tugging at the roots of his hair as he watched Park stare at him with worried eyes.
"Are you sure you're alright?" she pressed.
"I have no idea." He gave a short laugh. "Honestly, I'm still taken aback by the fact that I took a plane here on your brother's suggestion. There's no plan. I think it's throwing me off."
Park then took a sudden step towards him and placed a palm on his forehead. He was reminded of that fateful day back at the academy, where he had stumbled upon his friends dumping trash all over the field. Park had done the same thing--she had felt for his temperature then decided that he was a doppelganger.
Now she stepped back and shook her head with a grim look in her eyes. "What you've got is bad, Cross."
Logan narrowed his eyes. "What do you mean? Do I actually have a fever? Shit, I shouldn't have sat in the snow--"
And Park delivered a blow to his stomach with a force Logan never knew she had. He doubled over, coughing, desperate for air.
"Apparently, you've got a serious case of I'm-a-Complete-Dumbass," she snarled. "What possessed you to get on a plane with my idiot brother and Darkwood? What made you think that it was anything close to a sensible idea to fly here during this month, in this week--damn it, Logan, that letter was supposed to be our goodbye!"
Just like that, his nerves evaporated and anger surged through his veins. "When was that supposed to be our last goodbye, Sparrow? When did we ever decide that together? I don't remember sitting down with you and signing my resignation form. Tell me, Sparrow, when did I agree to anything?"
"It's not like if I told you about my plans, you would've sat down and cheerfully signed the papers. You would've insisted on coming, but I couldn't--"
"It was my choice to come with you, Sparrow!" he exploded. "You think I didn't know that I'd have to stand guard over you and Vincent? I knew what I was getting myself into, but it was what I decided to. You had no right to take that from me!"
"You would've been hurt--"
"And it would've been my choice to get hurt," he finished. "Sparrow, how many times do I have to say it? You're my friend. I care about you and, call me insane, but I think it's sensible to want to say goodbye to someone that I care about in person, not through a fucking letter."
Logan was out of breath from shouting. Nearly every strand on his head stood up due to his habit of pulling at his roots whenever he wasn't emotionally composed. He remembered their arguments in lecture halls, as they threw facts taken from textbooks across rooms, their vicious voices bouncing off the walls while they struggled to prove who was right. She always had the same look during the arguments--wide eyes with fury flaming in them, furrowed brows and lips turned into a wolfish smile as her voice matched his in hoarseness levels.
This time around, however, Park didn't start snarling historical facts off the top of her head. She gave a deep sigh and ran her hands through her hair, tousling the chignon. Several long strands fell loose against her cheeks and she seemed resigned with the outcome of the argument for the first time.
As he calmed down, Logan noticed that she was dressed differently than usual. Instead of her usual wool sweater and leggings tucked into her scruffy boots, she stood in a dark green dress with a brown belt fastened around her waist. Black, heart-stitched stockings covered her legs and a pair of black heels stuck to her feet
She began ascending the steps and Logan saw a silver chain secured around her neck, a stainless sparrow charm resting on the front of her chest. He smiled.
"What?" she asked as she stopped in front of him. He reached up and gently took the charm into his fingers.
"I got this for your birthday."
She placed her hand on his for a moment, gripping onto him tightly. Then, she let go of his hand and got on the tip of her toes. Confused, Logan was about to ask what she was doing when he felt her flattening the strands of his hair.
"I'm sorry," she said, moving her hands down to his shoulders. "I just didn't want to watch you get hurt every day that you were guarding me."
They sat down on the steps, their arms brushing. He pretended not to notice and looked straight ahead while Park twirled a silver band on her finger. That was new. Logan wondered if Vincent had given it to her, then he recalled that Vincent had gotten her a dress and had fretted about it being the wrong color when Logan drove him to Park's birthday.
"Do you ever wonder if it was this hard for our ancestors?" Park wondered.
"They were in the midst of a war, so I'm going to take option A."
"Option A being?"
"A hell of a lot harder. They were torn apart by battles and bloodshed, Sparrow."
"Okay, but if Zachariah had just decided not to put together a last minute suicide squad, things would've gone a lot differently."
"Stop painting Zachariah Cross as the self-sacrificial one when it's the Sparrows who go diving in front of a stranger to take a bullet!"
The conversation somehow turned into a debate of a topic that branched into the history of all twelve clans and what their defining traits were. Logan felt as though they had traveled a few years back in time and they were back in the academy. He missed this--the simplicity of their arguments and how fun it felt to hear her voice change pitches throughout the conversation.
There was an inscription on her ring, he noticed, as she finally cooled down about the betrayal of the Darkwoods when they left the Sparrows to join an allegiance with the Fells. Absentmindedly, he picked up her hand and took a closer look, not caring about the sensation that came with holding her hand.
"Per Angusta Ad Augusta," she read with a grin. "James gave this to me for my birthday as a commemoration of the first quiz I beat him in. It was a Latin trivia in first year history and he had been absolutely furious."
"Through difficulties to honor," Logan translated. "Fitting for a Sparrow."
She beamed, clasping her fingers together and holding her chin atop her hands. She glanced over at him, eyes twinkling and he felt a pang in his heart.
I'm going to miss her.
"Are you okay?" she asked, inclining her head towards him. Logan could only offer her a sincere smile and fixed a strand of her hair behind her ear.
"I hope you come out on top of everything happy," he wished. "I hope that your difficulties take you to your honor."
Surprising him again, she leaned against his side, her head falling on top of his shoulder. "I hope you find your happiness too, Cross. I really hope you do."
I will, Logan thought as they sat there, quiet and content. It just won't be for a very long time.
* * *
"You know, Logan," Abigail spoke up, "I haven't seen you in the palace since you were a child."
"I don't visit often, my lady," Logan answered, stabbing mindlessly at a strawberry on his plate. Dinner's dessert looked delectable, but with Abigail's attention riveted on him, he had lost his appetite. Not to mention that Park and Vincent were uncomfortably holding hands across the table and he wanted to jab himself in the eye.
"Oh?" Abigail arched a fine brow. "How often do you visit Cimeria?"
"Every other year, mostly during the summer or spring," Logan replied.
"Do you visit the royal family often?"
"No, my lady."
"Then why is that you've decided to visit during Christmas? One of the most intimate family holidays of the year?"
Someone stomped on Logan's foot and casting a sideways glare, he saw Darkwood shooting him an exasperated look. Then the Darkwood turned to Abigail and gave her a crooked smile.
"Logan and I are really good friends, and I figured since I was celebrating the holidays with the Sparrows this year, I would just bring Logan along as well."
"We're platonic soulmates," Logan added. Darkwood took Logan's hand and squeezed it tightly, and when he let go, Logan found it hard to stretch his fingers.
It was clear that Abigail didn't believe Darkwood. But she merely chewed on her strawberry and watched them with an icy smile. "It's good to hear that you've made friends ever since your return from...beyond the grave." Then, her gaze flickered down the table, where Archer was letting Jasper take a few strawberries off his plate.
"How did you come across...." She hesitated in saying Archer's fake name.
"Dick?" Darkwood finished.
"Yes." Abigail's smile faltered. "Richard. How did you meet him? He looks a little too old to be in the academy you attended with Park."
Every Sparrow in the room grew uneasy at her question, and Giselle squeezed her fork until her knuckles turned white. Archer was the only one at ease and he leaned back in his chair, grinning widely.
"It's the lighting," he explained. "It adds five years but really, I'm quite young."
Henry Blackewell intervened right then, bringing up an old friend they had who looked ten times his age but was actually quite young. Vincent shot a look of sympathy at Logan and mouthed an "I'm sorry" towards him before joining the conversation with his parents.
Park was making faces at her brother and they were having a silent conversation through the means of mouthed words and outraged expressions (the expressions were solely Park's doing--Archer had insisted on wearing his sunglasses for the entire duration of the day, allowing him to express his feelings purely with words. In this case, silent words). Their inaudible dialogue ended when Abigail silenced her husband and looked back at Logan, a smirk on her lips.
Before she could say anything, though, Darkwood stood abruptly and clutched at his stomach. "Your Highness, I'm so sorry," he cried, looking at Giselle Sparrow, "but my stomach is killing me. I need to be excused."
"Oh dear," Giselle gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. "Go ahead, Alec. Take Logan with you, just in case you get worse."
As Logan was practically hauled to his feet, he noticed Giselle winking at the two boys before asking the table a vague question and pinpointing Abigail's attention on herself.
Once they got in the hall, Darkwood punched Logan's arm.
"Ow," Logan snapped, rubbing his arm. "What was that for?"
"Are you so sad right now that you don't even realize that Blackewell has it out for you?" Darkwood scoffed.
"She doesn't have it out for just me, she's been interrogating Dick ever since we got here!" Logan grumbled.
"She's targeting you!" Darkwood pressed. "Cross, it's almost the twenty-fourth, you don't think Blackewell's making sure that no last minute interruptions will ruin her chance to become part of the royal family?"
"What's on the twenty-fourth?"
Darkwood stared at Logan in surprise. "Wait, Park didn't tell you?"
Logan's confusion only grew. "Tell me what?"
"What did you guys do on the stairs this entire time, make out? She didn't mention that Vincent's proposing on the twenty-fourth?"
For a second, Logan couldn't comprehend what Darkwood was saying. Then it all came crashing down on him and he felt, for a moment, as though he was drowning. Minutes passed and he struggled to resurface for air, but he could only collapse to the floor and lean against the wall as he realized that in four days, all of his dreams that came with reuniting with his best friend from the past would have to be buried.
We're all grown up now, he thought, thinking of the little girl who put twig crowns in her hair and declared herself ruler of the forest before falling face first in the mud, the girl who swore she'd never marry anyone.
"I'm sorry, Logan," Darkwood said, his voice kind as he sat besides Logan. "You're a good guy. You were good for her. I was rooting for you."
He gave a heavy sigh and when Logan looked over at him, Darkwood was offering him a sad smile. "But you'll be okay. Life goes on and we always find someone else."
"Maybe." Logan closed his eyes and thought about the future. He saw everything that he ever wanted: he was the head of XYZ, he was the head of the Cross clan, he was respected, he was admired, he was happy. But still, the only girl he could envision was Park. The girl who challenged the idea that being reckless never solved anything.
Darkwood began singing something that sounded suspiciously like "Let It Go" from Frozen, prompting Logan to push him to the ground. "Shut up, Elsa," he snorted. "You're not helping the situation."
"The cold never bothered me anyway."
* * *
December 24th. Logan was tempted to black out that date on every future calendar he would ever own.
"This is stupid," Darkwood seethed. "Park's the one getting proposed to. We're not even related to her." He gestured to Logan and himself. "Why are we even here?"
Darkwood had been in the middle of trying Alfred's holiday beverages when Abigail Blackewell demanded that he put on a suit and come with them to the broadcast. Logan suspected that his attitude wouldn't have been so foul if it hadn't been for the fact that he had been forced to abandon his Rudolph sweater.
Unfortunately for Logan, all Darkwood really packed for him were Christmas sweaters and jeans, so he had to borrow one of Darkwood's blazers and match it with the nicest white t-shirt and black jeans he found in his suitcase. Even then, it didn't stop Abigail's face from turning sour every time she glanced at him and his scruffy maroon sneakers.
Archer had outright defied Abigail's request and wore a dark green sweater with white reindeers woven on the front over black jeans and dirt covered boots. He even kept the sunglasses, refusing to take them off even when Abigail directly complained about how ugly he was.
"This is a waste of time," Archer grumbled. Logan watched the set, his eyes trailing crew members as the studio prepared for the live airing of the "Royal Interview" with Selena Marion.
"We're here for moral support, guys," Jasper reminded them. "Park's depending on us to keep her from running out of here."
"She's depending on the wrong person. If she's running, I'm coming with her," Darkwood muttered.
"I, Richard Kensington the Sixth, agree with that plan."
"Stop calling yourself that, you sound so pretentious," Darkwood groaned. He perked his head up in the next second and shouted, "Sparrow, tell Dick to stop talking about himself."
Logan's head shot up and saw her walking towards the group. His breath got caught in his throat and a smile slipped onto his lips. She was gorgeous in a low collar cut black dress, standing tall with electric blue heels strapped to her feet. Her dark brown hair, loosely curled, dangled down her side in a low ponytail. Her lips were tugged upside down in a frown and her eyebrows were scrunched together, giving her that look of impatience and irritation that always made it impossible for Logan to take her seriously.
"Abigail's trying to make me put on a white blazer so I can match Vincent, I'm going to throw something at her," she fumed when she stopped in front of the boys. "Where's Minnie when I need her? That girl is great at throwing stuff at people without getting caught."
"Give me your shoes, I'll do it for you," Darkwood offered, grinning up at her with an outstretched palm.
"Throw it at me. Give me a concussion so I won't have to listen to Selena Marion ask me, again, if I've had something going on with Alec Darkwood."
"I mean, we are meant to be, Sparrow. Everyone can see that."
Someone called out Park's name and she rolled her eyes, huffing out a frustrated breath. "I hope my acting skills can get me through today," she said, saluting them before turning around and walking off."
"She's not going to make it then," Archer tutted. "She's nowhere near as talented as me."
"Park's dramatic," Jasper said. "You, on the other hand, are overdramatic."
Logan's foot tapped uneasily on the floor as he rubbed his hands, contemplating about what he could say to her now that he wouldn't ever be able to say to her in the future. It had to be perfect. It had to be memorable and it had to be meaningful. He needed to say everything he thought about her, but it couldn't sound rushed or fake. It needed to be--
"Just go," Darkwood spoke up, gesturing towards Park. "You can say it now or you can kiss your last chance to tell her everything goodbye."
Not needing another push, Logan got to his feet and charged after Park. He managed to grab her arm and pull her to a stop. "I need to talk to you," he said, slightly breathless from anticipation. He glanced around. "Away fro all this. Just one minute then I'll let you go."
Her smile seemed a little sad after that and as he pulled her towards an exit, he realized what he had said. I'll let you go, the words echoed in his mind. But that was the sad truth. In a few minutes, he would have to let everything go.
He found himself standing in the snow and his breath came out in white smoke, curling in front of him as it drifted towards the sky while he closed the heavy door behind him. Park had begun to shiver, so Logan drew her into his arms, not caring if there were guards stationed twenty feet away. They weren't paying attention to them and they were too far away to understand his words.
"You know, you've taught me a lot of things, Park," Logan began, leaning away from her to look at her. "From the time when we were kids climbing trees to when we were at the academy and up until now, you've showed me a different way that life could be conquered. I was always one for caution and precision. Watching you annoyed me because everything you did was out of line. You did whatever you could think of on your feet but every time, you pulled through."
"Are you talking about the fact that I dare my shooters to hit me with their best shot or the fact that I do all of my projects the night before the due date rather than five months earlier like you?" she laughed.
Logan laughed at that statement too, remembering Park calmly putting together a poster for a third year project, the day before she had to present, and landing a perfect score on the assignment.
"You're strong, Park, and you're ferocious. I should've recognized you during our years at the academy," Logan continued, exhaling a breath of regret. "Growing up with you was the best childhood I could ask for. It was the worst thing in the world when I had to move away because my mother accepted the job as headmistress of Cross Academy, but in a way, we were brought back together when you arrived as Alex Finch. And I should've known. You looked so different from how I remembered you, as both Alex and the way you are now, but you're the same girl underneath. You had the same attitude and impulsiveness that got so many of us in trouble."
He thought about the girl who climbed a tree and nearly broke her arm down a fall, and he thought of how she was the same girl who chucked an eraser at his face during algebra. She was the same girl who put roses in his hair because he hated flowers and tackled James for making fun of his ex-girlfriend.
"You're brilliant, Sparrow. I' glad I volunteered to be your bodyguard. I'm glad I got to spend all this time with you and witness the supernova that you are. I hope you don't ever change. Well--" he paused to laugh-- "I hope you stop running in front of bullets. But you're a beautiful person, Park. You deserve the universe."
And he watched as the brightest grin grew on her lips, sparks in her dark eyes as she listened to his words. I wish I could spend forever being the one to make you smile like this, he thought.
At that moment, a knock was heard on the door and it opened to reveal a crew member, a panicked gleam ablaze in his eyes before relief. Logan and Park jumped apart while the guy said, "Your Highness, we air in five. We need you out on the stage now!"
"Give me a minute," she requested. "I'm talking to a friend." The tone in her voice allowed no room for disapproval, so the set member merely shot a nervous look at Logan before nodding at Park and disappearing behind the heavy door.
Park looked back at him. Her shivering had increased, so Logan pulled off his black blazer without a second thought and wrapped it around her shoulder. It left him exposed to the cold and already the skin was growing goosebumps. Those Christmas sweaters Darkwood packed are starting to sound real tempting, he thought.
That boy was starting to grow on him.
"Thank you for being my bodyguard, Logan," Park said, taking his hand. "And thank you for being my friend again. I'll miss you."
Say the words, the voice in his head compelled. Say it now!
"I'll miss you too," he reiterated.
Wrong words, dumbass.
Logan could imagine Darkwood saying that. Yeah, that boy was definitely starting to grow on him.
Three knocks were heard on the door, insistent and demanding. Park eyed the door with distaste and he could see it in her eyes that she was tempted to stay.
"Go on. Don't trip, Sparrow." He beckoned his head towards the door.
"My coordination is flawless," she joked. But it took another minute for her to look away from him and head inside. Once in, she turned her head over her shoulder and gave him another smile before disappearing with the crew member.
Logan watched her go and the door shut on him. He stood in the cold, hands in his pocket, debating on whether or not he should watch everything play out. He would risk getting hypothermia if it meant he didn't have to watch his nightmares unfold before him.
Then, on second thought, he was wearing only a t-shirt so he headed into the warmth of the backstage, swerving around the crew until he collapsed into his seat by Darkwood.
They watched as Selena Marion enter the stage, waving at the crowd. She introduced Park and Vincent after a few opening words, and the two walked out holding hands, beaming at one another as they sat down on the spotless white couches. Logan cheered up slightly when he saw that she had kept the blazer on.
"I shouldn't have asked her to protect the family," Archer said, his voice soft and bitter. "I left so that when I came back, she wouldn't have to make such decisions for the kingdom, now look at her! She's only eighteen and she's..."
"You couldn't have stopped it." Jasper watched his sister with sadness. "The summer after you left, she came up to Father with several stacks of printed articles and newspaper clippings. She had been pouring over the history books after a lesson with one of her tutors then put together a file consisting of every assassination attempted at a coronation--most of them targeting Sparrows. After that, she looked into all the cases that were unsuccessful and decided that we needed the elite force again. She would've done this regardless if you had succeeded doing what you needed to do."
"Sparrows," Darkwood scoffed. "Always trying to protect others."
An uneasy silence fell upon the group as the interview began to play out. Selena Marion volleyed questions after questions--how they met, why they fell for each other, what were their favorite and least favorite qualities. Darkwood began mocking her when she inquired about Park's history with boys--especially her history with the boy who came back from the dead.
It was only when Selena Marion asked how serious the relationship was did all the boys sit up and lean forward.
Vincent cleared his throat, his cheeks tinged a pale pink, and he was ruffling his hair, giving off a sense of nerves and excitement. "Actually, I have something very important to say today," he declared.
He stood up and everyone held their breath. Logan had heard more noise in a graveyard. Vincent reached inside the pockets of his black slacks and Logan ducked his head, unable to watch.
Yet, the seconds flew on by, and no noise came. Almost hesitantly, he peeked up just as Selena Marion leaned forward and asked, "What do you want to say, Vincent?"
Vincent glanced at Park first, and on the screens, he was smiling sweetly down at her. Then, Vincent looked away from the stage and stared directly at Logan, giving him the same smile before he faced the crowd.
"I don't love Park Sparrow. All of this is a lie."
At first, no one spoke. Everyone merely stared, absolutely dumbfounded, and everyone bore the same nonplussed expression.
Then the crowd went wild. People began yelling questions and demanded answers. Logan snapped out of his daze and looked around. The entire crew was frozen, staggered by the turn of events. Selena Marion was snapping for the cameras to stop rolling. One by one, the screens switched to commercials, but the studio was still in turmoil.
"Alright, I like the teddy bear and all, but I have to say, "Darkwood warned, "bitch said what?"
* * *
why is this so long? a question i will never be able to answer. sorry for the long wait, i really struggled on writing this chapter for some reason? anyway, hope you all enjoyed it!
ciao for now -- knee