Sanders Sides Oneshots

Chasing Down a Daydream~ Platonic Logince

It was an unconventional career for himself, Logan could admit that. There was no doubt he had the vocabulary for it, you could see that within minutes of talking to him. But writers commonly have a strong grasp on emotions, and can help bring them to life in characters.

Logan's strong suit was not emotions; even that was an understatement. But somehow, his novel series was a best-seller, and reviews raved about how relatable the main character was. If you asked him how he did it, he would give you some spiel about statistics and what people look for, but the truth was, even he did not know where the wave of emotions shown in his books came from. It was a part of him he had no access to outside of ink, and he was okay with keeping it that way.

He was not entirely immune to feeling though, and that was especially clear on this particular morning.

The café was packed, but Logan did not necessarily mind. His coffee cup sat in front of him, half empty with an untouched scone next to it. He knew eating breakfast was important, but he could not help if his attention was on other things. He had a new idea for a story, and frankly, that was all he needed.

Of course, someone to bounce his ideas off might be nice, but that was not happening. His closest (and really only) friend Virgil was out of town for the week, so his brain would just have to make do with itself. Besides, it was only an idea he was nursing. He was not sold on it yet; he might abandon the whole thing as soon as he left the café. The writing process was fickle like that.

"Pardon me, but is this seat taken?"

The sudden voice pulled Logan out of his little mind bubble, startling him towards reality. His eyes focused back on the world around him, settling on the person who had seemingly spoken.

He looked tall, at least from this angle. Logan first took notice of the bright red jacket adorning his features, only lurking for a second before directing his attention to the man's face. After all, one should always look people in the eye when addressing them.

"It is not; are there no other open tables left?" Logan asked, glancing around and only now taking in just how packed the place had become.

"I'm afraid not. I can go if you want, I'd hate to intrude if it would be a bother, but I really would appreciate being allowed to sit if I could."

He thought it over for a moment. He had been enjoying his silence, but right now he would not particularly mind company. Besides, he had no proof the man would be talkative, and he hated jumping to conclusions. Overall, the only possible downside he could find was he might be an asshole, but his limited interaction did not indicate this to be the case.

"I don't see why not." Logan gestured towards the seat across from him, nodding curtly in response to the grateful smile he was being given.

"Thank you, truly. I still have a half hour before I need to leave for work, and awkwardly standing that whole time wouldn't be too fun." The man spoke with a small laugh in his voice, clearly trying to ease any tension. "Oh, I'm Roman by the way. He/him pronouns."

"Logan Croft. He/him pronouns as well."

"Oh, very formal. Are you like a teacher or something?"

Looks like he got a talker. "I am actually an author. So yes, formality comes more naturally to me, or so I have been told."

"Really? That's much more interesting! What genre do you write? Oh, wait, you probably don't want to talk. I'm already intruding on your table; I shouldn't force conversation. I can just go on my phone if you want." Logan could figuratively see the spark go out in the man's eyes, his stance becoming more subdued and his voice quieting ever so slightly. Clearly, appealing to society's unspoken rules was not a strong suit for him.