I'll Protect You (Re-Edit #2, 2016)

Don't you dare serenade me with 'Call Me Maybe'

"What happened to the hair? He had blond streaks, didn't he?" Logan wondered, and I blinked in surprise. The last time Elijah had streaks in his midnight strands, he was seventeen, making me ten at the time. Since Logan was my age, he hadn't even reached the embarrassing tween period. Had Logan known my cousin for that long?

Funny--I had grown up with Elijah my whole life but never once did I meet Logan Cross. If Logan had met Elijah all the way back in his punk rock phase, then I surely would've met Logan then as well, since Elijah had lived with my family and the majority of my time was spent trailing Elijah around if my older brother was preoccupied.

So how come I didn't remember Logan?

"And the piercings," continued Logan, his fingers ghosting the area above his lips and around his ears. "

Elijah had been pretty punk rock back then, but when grave circumstances arose, he erased the dyed hair and removed the metal piercings in his skin to become the poster boy for mainstream hipster.

"That can't be Elijah," Logan concluded, denial written all over his face.

"The one and only," I answered, shrugging off the questions swimming in my head. "He owns the store actually. As a favor for taking care of me, I do volunteer work here."

"How do you volunteer work at a coffee shop?"

"Actually, if you take a seat, you can find out," I smiled, getting on the tip of my toes to pat his head. "Here's a hint--I don't get paid."

Before Logan could ask anymore questions, or further protest Elijah's image, I headed behind the counter and into the back, where I slipped into the bathroom. I stripped of my school uniform and into a simple attire of tight jeans and a black t-shirt tucked at the waist before tying a black apron around at my waist.

The rest of the day seemed to float on by quickly, the afternoon sunlight turning into a waning sunset behind the far off mountains. The line had thinned down until there was no file of people beside the counters. Soon, more than enough tables were empty--the students had gone home, leaving behind a select few in corners with their heads buried in books.

"I can't believe you never told me Logan Cross was in this business," I complained to Elijah, who merely beamed at me.

"It's policy, little Sparrow," Elijah said, casting Logan a quick glance. "Names are confidential information, didn't you know?"

"Oh, is that why you spend every dinner complaining about all the agents you've had to work with?" I snorted. Elijah tugged on my ponytail as he set off to clean the milk pitchers.

"You're not allowed to tell people I do that," he grumbled, though a smile slipped back onto his lips, cracking that serious façade. "Honestly, I didn't tell you because I wanted to be there when the two of you finally realized who each other were. Imagine it--two bitter enemies coming face to face and realizing that the polar opposite battlefield they fight upon is actually a common ground for two strikingly similar souls, different from the rest--"

"Elijah, please, enough with the dramatic monologue," I sighed. "This is a coffee shop, not the stage for a Shakespearean play."

"All the world's a stage, little Sparrow," he smirked. At that moment, a new customer appeared before the registers, appearing to be none other than the devil himself, hands in his slacks as he eyed the menu above us.

"I always wondered what Alex Finch did in her spare time that made it impossible for her to study, but I never imagined her working," Logan mused, smiling crookedly.

I raised an eyebrow while grinning at the excellent trap he just created for himself. "So you do have a crush on me," I said. The faintly entertained glimmer in his tawny eyes vanished and a blush crept onto his cheeks.