T'was Arranged

♆Sin♆

"Seasonless, herbless, treeless, manless, lifeless-
A lump of death-a chaos of hard clay.
The rivers, lakes and ocean all stood still,
And nothing stirr'd within their silent depths;
Ships sailorless lay rotting on the sea,
And their masts fell down piecemeal: as they dropp'd
They slept on the abyss without a surge-
The waves were dead; the tides were in their grave,
The moon, their mistress, had expir'd before;
The winds were wither'd in the stagnant air,
And the clouds perish'd; Darkness had no need
Of aid from them-She was the Universe." ~ Darkness, Lord Byron

Sin
It was like getting caught with your hand stuck in the cookie jar by your mother. With Logan glaring at me wrapped in Cameron, arms folded and green eyes blazing, guilt took hold of my heart and squeezed it painfully. Fury boiled in my veins, fury at Logan for making me feel guilty, fury at him for making me somewhat loyal to someone incapable of the trait. I breathed, clutching Cameron's hands on me, not wanting to let go but knowing I had to. I pried him off gently.

"I should probably go," he said, blue eyes bright and alert.

I nodded. He shared a meaningful look, and stood up. Before passing out of the room, he regarded Logan coldly - honestly, they regarded each other with the same amount of hatred. When he was gone the room seemed to drop ten degrees in temperature, the fire slowly diminishing. The anxiety plaguing me moments before made an appearance. It clogged my throat and turned my tongue into cotton. My gaze refused to meet Logan's for fear he'd be able to pull every secret I've been hiding out of my mind and into his.

I gulped. Surely, I will suffocate if he doesn't say something. Why isn't he saying anything?

I stood up and brushed the invisible dust away from my jeans. I turned to face Logan fully.

"Are you going to tell me, or what?" He asked, voice too calm.

"Tell you what?" I answered. Playing coy probably wasn't the best idea in my circumstance, but it was the only thing I could think of. This would be the day I told Logan the truth. If I told him everything, he'd learn how his father didn't think very highly of him. He'd know his father found him unworthy for his throne, so unworthy he had to conspire with his son's wife. And once one secret got out, the rest were surely going to follow it. Everything was unraveling.

He blinked at me. Between clenched teeth, Logan ground out, "You know what I mean, Sage. What are you hiding?"

I rolled my eyes, folding my own arms. "Just like you, Logan, I have secrets. I have a right to them, therefore, I don't need to tell you anything."

"No," he growled, closing the space between us. "You have two seconds to tell me what's going on here."

I jerked my head back, allowing disgust to pour over my facial features. "No-."

"Two seconds, Sage."

"No."

"Sage."

I shuffled closer trying to pull my best intimidating look. "No."

Logan just stared down at me with straight face. I could tell his teeth were grinding together behind his tight closed lips. Staring into my eyes, I felt that tug again, as if he were pulling things from my mind: my every thought linking to his.

"This has something to do with my father, doesn't it?"

He'd blurted out the words, startling me at how spot on he was.

Logan continued, "I remember," his eyebrows furrowed as he recalled a memory, "the night of our wedding, he danced with you. Matter of fact, I recall him dancing with you again at the Spring Festival Ball." Logan's eye narrowed down at me, "He told you something, both times, about me. What did he tell you?"