#holly010.

When they’d first started working on the float, the entire Homecoming Court had been present, but as the afternoon dragged on, their numbers had dwindled, not unlike those horror movies that Holly enjoys so much. Logan thinks about making some kind of joke about it, except when he looks over, he finds her so focused on positioning the letters just right—eyebrows drawn together with the effort, the barest hint of her tongue poking out from the corner of her mouth—and he can’t find it in him to break her concentration.

He turns his attention back to his section of the float, even though his productivity had been lost somewhere between the 30th and 31st paper rose he’d folded in the last hour. They’re not actually alone together, as evidenced the laughter and occasional yelling filling the gymnasium, but somehow all of that fades into the background, the world narrowing down to just the two of them—Logan-and-Holly, never one without the other, just like the way it used to be when they were kids.

( When things were easier. When Logan had still been oblivious to the fact that he’s been on the cusp of falling in love with her—if not already halfway there—almost all his life. When he hadn’t gone and fallen in love with her sister. )

“Hey,” he calls, the word slipping past his lips before his brain catches up with his mouth. Holly looks up at the sound of his voice, head tilting slightly in confusion; the sight of it only makes him smile. “Did you manage to convince Zelda to be your date to Homecoming?”