Sanders Sides Oneshots

Can't Be Erased (Logince)

*

So you found all the pieces
To initiate the plan
Our venom stains
The night remains
But the ending is always just the same
No gain

*

* 1845 *

Nearly two years of long and grueling work, and his fabulous creation was finally finished! A beautiful piece was he, a glorious hybrid of human and machine. The man, once a sad soul left for the dead, now had a new purpose. He served as framework for machinery and metals to create a humanoid figure who was no longer quite a man, nor was he just a simple machine. He was one of a kind. With his previously damaged face now part human skin, part gears and metal with a patchwork design resembling snake skin, he was stunningly gruesome, a true sight to behold.

Once his creation was finished, most of the problems now sorted out, Logan visited the local tavern for celebratory dinner. He found himself a seat and minutes later had food sat in front of him, smelling better than anything he'd had the past few months where he rarely left his workshop. Tonight, he shall eat and celebrate like a king! And once his creation is introduced to the public, he would surely get this treatment on a daily basis.

The candlelight giving his table a light glow flickered a little as someone approached his table. He glanced up, surprised to find his eyes gazing upon a rather attractive male. Where Logan was more of an intellectual, this man was clearly a player of sorts. He was used to making his way through life with charm and social status. He never had worked a day in his life, used to getting everything he wanted handed to him on a silver platter, or so everyone said.

"Good day," He greeted with a charming smile. "I am Roman Highmore. If I may be frank, you are rather eye catching."

"Oh dear," Logan replied, dryly. "Please take my rather stony disposition as a sign of your eyes being tossed back to you." He spoke innocently, a little smirk lighting up his face.

"How rude." However, Roman spoke with a chuckle. "Do I have the honour of learning your name, oh witty one?"

"I am called Logan Sanders."

"Logan. A rather beautiful name. Simply rolls off the tongue."

"If your intention is to sweep me off my feet, I'm afraid you're quite mistaken. Now, if you excuse me, I must be going." Standing, Logan pulled his cloak on and started for the door. He was surprised and gasped lightly as his wrist was gently grabbed. He was spun around to face Roman, their faces close.

"If I may, I would like to attend an outing with you, for you intrigue me, dear Logan." Roman's voice was low, the tone keeping Logan drawn in and hanging onto every word.

"I am not so sure . . ." Logan bit his lip, worrying at it with his teeth.

"It would be well worth your time . . ."

Looking down, Logan's mind drifted for a moment. He thought back to his lovely creation. He'd doted on it for months, perfecting every little detail. He deserved a break, didn't he?

"I accept your invitation . . ."

*

Growing up, Logan dreaded his dancing lessons. He saw them as frivolous, and never understood why he needed to learn such things when he could be do something better with his time. However, Roman was quickly changing his views. His style of dancing was not stuffy but rather lively, keeping the two of them engaged, not only in movements but in deep, witty conversation as well. Logan found that Roman clashed perfectly with him, and oddly, it worked. He definitely found his attitude and sharper personality being matched for a change. And quite frankly, he rather liked it.