[LOGINCE] i would kill for you.

5.) "he asked for it."

He asked for it, with what he did.

So i'm his bad karma.

——

Logan and Virgil sat on the couch with A Quiet Place playing on the TV. Roman had refused to join them, both in fear of the movie and because of his vigil for Patton.

The black-clad man rested his head on his company's shoulder, headphones resting on his neck.

"I thought you didn't like thriller movies," he mumbled as he looked up at his mature counterpart.

"Anything to distract me from what happened to Patton."

"Oh."

The two sat in silence for awhile, watching the TV with drooping eyelids that sparkled with a sense of examination.

"What do you think happened to him?"

"Heart attack. It has happened before."

"...Oh, you mean them?"

"Precisely."

"It was so... sudden."

"As are most things. They left in the night."

"Both of them did, didn't they?"

"Mhm."

Roman soon clambered down the stairs, clutching a grey cardigan close. His eyes were damp, as if he'd been crying.

"What'd you guys choose?" he asked distantly as he brewed coffee in the kitchen.

"A Quiet Place. Heard it was a good movie." Virgil lifted his head sleepily as he narrowed his eyes to look at the prince.

"May I join you?"

"Logan, do you mind?"

"No, not at all."

———

Not at all.

———

Deceit joined them the next morning.

He had brought a cardboard box labeled "Fragile" which rattled and growled.

When Roman opened it, it was just a bunch of flowers.

"I do not grieve for your loss," he said joyfully. "Though you do seem to have recovered quickly."

Virgil eyed him and took the box carefully.

"Thanks." he responded, looking down at the flowers.

"You are not welcome." the snake-like man bowed, sinking out of sight.

———

Logan's now paleish, grey fingers rested on a blade of rust. A glint of white flickered as he turned the kitchen knife, so innocent yet it held so much murderous tendency.

"You alright?" Roman was standing in the doorway, leaning on the cracked plaster with dark spots beneath his eyes. Either he'd gone the past week without sleeping, or he'd stolen Virgil's makeup. The former seemed more likely, considering the circumstances.

"I..."

Logan couldn't really say anything.

What was he feeling?

What could he feel, after what he'd done?

He set the rusty knife down on the counter, his form clearly famished. He had lost a lot of weight in the past week or two. His hair was a mess, hazel eyes brimming with mist. Of course, he still had the sanity of proper hygiene. He'd changed out of his old clothes yesterday. Or was it this morning?

What time was it?

As if being able to read his mind, the prince piped up once more; now suddenly beside him. When did he get so close?

In fact, how did he even get in the kitchen without Logan noticing?

"It's 3 AM, Logan... I get you're grieving, but you need rest." Something was off about the way he spoke; jittery, even. One could excuse it for his exhaustion, though.

"...I suppose so."

So the prince led him back to his room, and bid him good night. He joked that he'd slap Logan if he found him awake this late anymore, but his humor wasn't as refined as Patton's. It was too difficult to hide his pain with the laughter.

He collapsed into Logan's arms, sobbing once more.

The robot couldn't help but bow his head and grieve with him.

Though no matter how hard he tried, he could not.

Was all of this tragedy truly worth it?