Standing before Loganās door, Roman clutched the papers close to his chest as he sucked in a deep breath. It was either going to be now or never, and never wasnāt exactly an option for him. He wanted things to go back to how they were before, with Logan eating at the table with them fumbling as he read from his adorable flashcards, attempting to keep up with the modern slang that Virgil would lovingly spout out. He wanted the Logan who would simultaneously groan but also partake in the puns that had always made him and Patton close. He wanted that Logan, not the Logan who had decided that everything he had worked for was useless. He wantedā¦.
Nevertheless, he stood there for a good minute as he mentally coached himself on what to say, even if Logan said nothing or ordered him to leave the words would be easy. All he needed to do was act them out and keep everything flowing perfectly. He could do perfect, his work was perfect, always perfect. Right?
Raising his hand up, his knocks thudded heavily on Loganās blue wooden door, and for a while, there was nothing but silence to answer his beckoning call. At least until he heard the shuffling on the other side of the door, accompanied by the distinct sound of Loganās bedside lamp clicking on. Heād woken him up, of all things to do when he was attempting to garner Loganās favor. He had woken their hard working logical side up when he had been fast asleep.
Maybe if I just hurry and leave, he can go back to bed. He wonāt be pleased to see me, heāll be pissed, heāll shout at me, heāll order me to go away, and heāll-
Every disjointed and messy thought that tumbled around in Romanās head came to a sudden and rather abrupt halt as soon as the lock on Loganās door clicked, and it swung inwardly open. Revealing the mess of curly hair that stuck up in just about every direction, those bleary eyes were hidden behind glasses that gradually started to slide down Loganās nose, andā¦and Roman felt his mouth suddenly go dry. It was the sweater that Roman had created for Logan during Christmas. He still had it, not only keeping it around, but wearing it to bed. In all honesty, Roman had figured that Logan had tossed it into his drawer never to be seen or touched again. He had thought that Logan didnāt care about it, yet another mistake piling on top of so many more.
It took Logan a second to register the sight in front of him, and even more to realize that the sweaty nervous side in front of him, with dark sleepless circles under his eyes. Was not Virgil, but instead Roman. As the creative side shifted from foot to foot, before flashing him an awkward smile that was clearly only attempted to make himself feel better than anything.
Loganās gaze sharpened and turned ten degrees cooler within seconds of laying his sights on Roman, and the creative side couldnāt help but to wince. Not forgiven then, at least not yet. āWhy have you decided to wake me in the middle of the night Creativity? Unlike some people, I cannot spend my hours staying up doing useless frivolous things.ā The logical sideās voice was as cold as a dagger crafted from the icy pits of the Arctic, and his expression remained so closed off that Roman honestly felt sure that he was looking back at a mask instead of Loganās actual face. Either way, he still had to do this. Even if Logan ripped up his papers into little tiny pieces, he had to get across how sorry he was.
āIā¦ā Roman cleared his throat as soon as it gave way and cracked, āIām sorryā¦Iām sorry for how I acted before and after you returned. Iām sorry for everything, we have never really gotten along that much but even then. The way I treated your confession was horrible of me, so..soā¦ā Ā Roman swallowed again as he shuffled the two slips of paper in his hands, his hands felt sweaty as he broke his eye contact with Logan. He wanted to tug at the collar of his shirt, as a flush started to sweep over his entire body. Eventually, he chomped on his tongue thrusting the papers forward into Loganās waiting hands. āIs this good enough?!ā
Once again silence answered him, as Logan pushed his glasses back up his nose his eyes narrowing for a moment as he scanned the beautiful curving letters of Romanās personal handwriting.
In mere seconds, Roman watched with a varying degree of relief as Loganās sharp piercing gaze softened to something only ever described in the most wistful of love poems. He didnāt even register the hitching of his own breath as soon as the tiny smile tugged at the corners of the logical sideās lips melting away the ice of his glare, or the way in which the sides of his eyes creased most beautifully breaking the stone cold visage of the mask that had just taken ahold of Loganās face.Ā
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