dedicated to @AndroidFetish for making all of these jaw-droppingly amazing character aesthetics -- since wattpad is stupid (or i am) and i can't seem to feature multiple images in one chapter, u will be graced with multiple chapters where their edits are featured!! 

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I avoided cars for two reasons:

1. It was difficult for me to be in without remembering all the wonderful times I'd been locked in some pitch-black trunk and being shoved against the walls because my kidnapper didn't realize that speeding was only going to garner him more attention from the police, not less.  

2. Elijah was always too lazy to take me to get a driver's license. 

But I had to get a head start on Logan, so that meant stealing his keys and racing his car down the mountainside at a dangerously fast speed. 

And doing so invoked a feeling in me--a desire to drive the car all over town and steer it down the empty highways until it died from lack of gas, allowing me to begin my life as a hermit princess on the run. 

I wonder if this is how Archer felt. 

But no. Logan would probably find me somehow and then force me to pay for gas--not something I could afford at the moment. 

Instead, once I entered downtown Paradise, I parked Logan's car in a well-lit lot belonging to one of two grocery stores the town had (the other one existed on the opposite side of town, nestled in the suburban neighborhoods). Afterwards, I walked to the only other apartment "complex" in downtown Paradise, which had four stories instead of three, unlike Elijah's. The building was far enough from the car that Logan couldn't immediately deduce my whereabouts. Even Elijah was unaware that I frequented the rooftop here. 

Inside, I took the steps two at a time all the way to the top. There, I was met with a heavy set door secured by a rusting padlock and chains. I knelt down and fished out two bobby pins stuffed in the breast pocket of my dress shirt. I bent them to their necessary angles and set to work. 

A princess should not know how to pick locks. A true princess has doors opened for her. 

Or whatever lame quote my mother would say if she saw what I was doing. 

Picking locks was a handy trick my good-for-nothing brother taught me right before he ran away from home. "Just in case I'm not around to do it for you," he explained after I successfully picked my first lock. The next morning, he was gone. 

He'd only taught me the absolute basics. To pick a padlock, I bought about ten different kinds from a hardware store and watched YouTube tutorials until I mastered it. 

Click! I got up, unhooking the padlock to pull the chains down. I pushed the entirety of my weight against the door. It swung open, and I stumbled outside. 

The first year I came here, a run-in with the landlord had me carrying a dozen or so pots up to the rooftop to aid her attempt in creating a rooftop garden. As a gift, she granted me unrestricted access to the roof. A gift she probably forgot, judging by the (shitty) security system on the door. 

Or, she was embarrassed her vision never came into fruition. Rather than the lush, vibrant, and city chic rooftop lounge she'd been gushing about, this rooftop was as green as the Sahara. Most of the pots we'd brought up were now rotted, with shriveled flower leaves and stems laying atop rock hard soil. The patio table and chairs were covered in four layers of grime and spiderwebs. Dust and dirt blanketed the floors, and a chipped broom laid tossed aside beneath a large pipe. 

The only living thing here was me--and a small white orchid hidden behind a cheap metal bench tucked to the side. I picked up the watering can, which felt a lot fuller than I remembered--probably having been refilled from the rainfall early last week. 

Hunching by the bench, I watered the orchid, watching as its soil deepened in color as it drank up the droplets sinking into it. White orchids were my mother's favorite flower, and the scent of this one plant almost took me back into the palace's botanical gardens. 

"Are you proud of yourself?"

The watering can slipped from my fingers, spilling water all over my shoes before I had the chance to jump back. Turning on my feet, I met eyes with an out-of-breath Logan standing in the doorway. His chest was heaving up and down, his collar bones exposed from the undone buttons around the base of his throat. Clenched in one of his fists were a different set of keys. 

I peeked over the edge of the roof. Hastily parked against the curb was a sparkling white Mercedes-Benz. I racked my head, trying to match this vehicle to someone in the Unholy Trinity. Ah. Logan must've terrorized James into handing over his keys. 

"You got here faster than I expected," I commented. Way faster. How did Logan even learn about this place?

An incredulous expression crossed Logan's face before the corner of his lips turned upwards into his infamous scowl. "Is this all a fucking joke to you?"

As he stalked over, he lifted his hand to hover his fingers over his lips. "Do you realize how unprofessional that was? What if my mother had seen and told my father--my boss?"

I shrugged. "Easy. Tell them it's part of our cover story."

Logan didn't stop moving towards me, and I found myself being backed up against the ledge as he inched closer and closer. 

"This is my livelihood," he said, the volume of his voice rising. "My job, Sparrow. It's not something I do for fun. I will never be deemed fit to lead the Chamber of Security if I fail at guarding you."

Since he was so close, I patted his face. "You? Head of the Chamber of Security? Not under my rule," I joked. His eyes darkened. 

"Yeah, you have experience screwing over people's careers, don't you?" he scoffed, his tone colored with utter disbelief. In a swift motion, he slid his backpack off his shoulders, unzipped it, and pulled out a pale beige folder before shoving it against me. 

"I cross-referenced every single recorded attack against you within the past six years with the resignation of your bodyguards. The average time span between them is two days. Every agents' reason for resignation or termination in the database was 'failure to uphold duties.'"

I tilted my head. "And?"

"All the articles mentioned how you were mysteriously separated from your guards."

"I had been."

"It doesn't take a genius to figure out that all of your past bodyguards were fired because you ran off."

"I mean, if you're hired to guard someone and can't even catch them slipping off for five minutes, isn't that a failure to uphold duties?"

Through gritted teeth, Logan seethed, "You're a brat."

"Excuse me?" Something electric and vicious spread through my nerves.

Even he seemed to reel from his words in the following seconds. But that quickly faded as a venomous anger settled into his glare. 

"You think just because you could be the future queen of Cimeria that you can screw people over like this? How many more times are you going to sneak off and force everyone to suffer the consequences?"

"I'd stop now if I were you."

"Or what?" Logan threw up his arms. "What're you going to do to me, Your Majesty? Fire me? Strip me of my title?"

"Cross--" 

"You want to run away? Go ahead. Get shot while you're at it. Make your family scramble to ensure the Sparrow reign after your father's last heir is killed. I'll get fired, and so will my father for having dared put my file in the line-up."

"God, Cross, you are so concerned with your career, aren't you? Well, fun fact! I'm not!" I finally burst, pushing against him. It was infuriating how he barely moved. " I've never trusted a single one of my bodyguards, and it's not about to change with you--especially  you."

"I'm well aware we're not here to braid each other's hair and tell each other secrets."

"You have no idea what my life is like, Cross."

Shut up, Park. You can't let him know. 

"Don't tell me the next words out of your mouth are going to be about how you have no privacy. How you feel controlled all the time and just want a little freedom?" Logan nearly laughed. "So, what, is this some cliché act of rebellion?"

"The queen pays my bodyguards to provide detailed reports of all my activity!" I blurted out, unable to contain myself any longer. "She's done this since I was eleven ever since my brother Archer ran away and left a PR nightmare on her hands."

Okay, now's a good time to shut up. 

But I couldn't. I'd been sitting on these feelings for years, unable to vent to anyone for fear of word getting back to the queen, who would no doubt find a different way to spy on me. And it looked like Logan pressed all the right buttons in this one fight--and now I was about to confess it all to the worst person I could open up to. 

"They provide her details on what I eat three times a day, what I wear, what I spend money on, which route I take into the city, my sleep schedule. They've even taped my conversations with my cousin, my parents, the staff in the palace, as well as strangers in the city."

I had a dancing instructor gift me a pair of sneakers as a joke because I was always running from danger so much. By the end of the week, she'd been relocated to a different city. A chef gave me the kitchen code once so I could get myself a midnight snack and he was fired the next day. A tutor casually suggested I take up self-defense and as far as I know, he's been blacklisted from teaching any of the noble children despite having worked for these families for decades."

As I talked, Logan's arms gradually fell to his sides. Maybe now would be a good time to shut up, Park.

"I can tolerate being handed dozens of new diet regimens after eating out. I can handle overly restrictive dress codes and etiquette lessons. I get that there isn't a lot of privacy with this lifestyle. But it's gotten way too invasive, and I draw the line when these reports start affecting the people around me."

"Wait--but," ,muttered Logan, scratching his head. "This doesn't make sense. CSD agents aren't allowed to do anything that gets them extra income while they're on duty--"

"Newsflash, Cross--not everyone follows the law like you," I snorted. "Besides, you can drop that act around me. The moment the queen calls you into her office and offers you a forty percent salary increase, you're going to be singing an entirely different tune."

"Do you actually think I would agree to that?"  

Rather than sounding accusatory or offended, Logan sounded truly confused as he stared at me, his brows bent together, his lips parted slightly. 

"Logan. The Venn diagram of 'people willing to sell out Park Sparrow' and 'Logan Cross' is a circle."

It was my turn to hold back my laughter. "You disliked me from the moment I stepped foot onto campus. Ever since I couldn't 'perform' to academy standards, you've been singling me out. Just because you tried to distance yourself from me as much as possible after the first time incident, you never actually stopped your little fan club from the antics they pulled. And I'm sorry--while getting dumped iced coffee on my body was a refreshing experience, it's not that great after three fucking years in a row."

I straightened my posture and closed the distance between us. This time it was Logan that faltered backwards, nearly tripping over an overturned ceramic pot. 

"You'll be the same as all the others, Cross. And like the rest of them, I'll make sure you're gone before you accidentally ruin someone else's life."

Great job, Sparrow, I thought in my head. I retreated from Logan and leaned against the rooftop ledge, oddly out of breath as my heartbeat struggled to pace itself, with my neck uncomfortably warm despite the cooling temperature. You just gave him another reason to stick to this contract. 

"I've been the biggest asshole, haven't I?" 

Wait a minute. What did I just hear?

"What?" I sputtered. 

Logan bowed his head with one hand slowly running his through his dark strands. After a few seconds passed, he took a step to close the distance between us once more. 

"I'm sorry."

I'm dreaming, aren't I? If it weren't for the breeze blowing on my cheeks, reminding me that this was, indeed, reality, I would've sucker-punched myself right then and there. 

"I'm sorry for the way I've treated you for the past three years. I'm sorry for being a person you'd believe would sell you out. And I'm sorry for calling you a brat when I didn't know what you were going through." 

"Um, hold on." I waved my hands. "Ten-ish minutes ago, you were yelling your head off about me running away and now you're sorry?"

"Look," he began, heaving a sigh, "I admit . . . that I lost my temper when you stole my car. First, it's my most prized possession and one of your articles said you crashed a Tesla. Multiple times."

"I had ten guys chasing me in ten different cars, it was bound to happen!"

Logan rolled his eyes, a hint of a smile forming on his lips. But then that faded as he took another deep breath. This time around, he avoided my eyes and instead focused his gaze upwards towards the lavender sky. 

"On my first assignment out on the field, I'd been assigned along with three other agents to guard this American kid who had been determined on making us seem stupid. He kept sneaking out of his home in the dead of night to go party. His parents didn't really mind at the time--it was almost expected of him to run and for us to let him go. Until one night, he nearly got his girlfriend and himself killed after provoking some guys at a club. It was a bad look for Cimeria, and I've spent years making it up to my father. So, when you slipped off, I just freaked out."

I felt a pang of sympathy in my chest. Captain Leo's perfectionist standards were well-known within the royal court, and while he'd always been a good man to my family, I would hate to be his child.

No offense.  

But even so, there was hesitation lingering in my chest. What if this was all a stunt to gain my trust?

"I'm calling your bluff," I said, crossing my arms. "You're only doing this because I'm royalty. This," and I gestured up and down his tall frame, "wouldn't be happening if I was still only Alex Finch to you."

"Obviously, Sparrow. We wouldn't be here fighting if you weren't the princess of my country and I wasn't your bodyguard." Logan rolled his eyes again. "Honestly, I don't know if I would've ever given Finch a private conversation like this, let alone apologize. But because you are Princess Park Sparrow and I'm your bodyguard and we ended up having this fight, I'm going to take the chance now to say sorry."

Something I prided myself on was my decent ability to tell a lie when I saw one. Despite three years of bad blown having sown deep seeds of doubt in my head, Logan's words still rang as utterly sincere and authentic.

It's just an apology, Park. It's not like he's asking you to trust him with your life right now. 

But what do I say? Normally, I was the one doing the apologizing: I'm sorry for hijacking your car, someone was trying to kill me; I'm sorry for ruining your restaurant, I kind of have to announce that there's poison in my food. It's a public health concern. 

Do I say, it's okay? No, too casual. I forgive you? But was I really feeling forgiving? I accept your apology? But then I would be forfeiting any chance to make him suffer just a little bit more. Your apology has been heard and considered? Ew, too formal. 

I appreciate the apology," I decided to say. Stepping forward, I patted Logan's shoulders awkwardly, desperate to end this conversation. Fight. Whatever this was. 

"Now that you know everything, just go with my flow and we'll be free from each other in no time. And yes, I'll make sure to do it in a way that lets you keep your job--"

"No, wait."

Logan grabbed my wrist and stopped me in my tracks as he spun me on my feet and pulled me back towards him. 

"I know I don't deserve one, but I'd like a chance to prove to you that I can be someone you trust."

This stubborn idiot. 

"I keep giving you an out and you keep not taking it." I couldn't contain my disbelief. "Are you really afraid of letting down your father that much?"

The corners of his lips twitched. "Captain Leo is pretty terrifying." 

"Logan, I'm not forcing you to be my bodyguard."

"But nowI want to be. Not just because of my family. I owe you this much, Sparrow."

"What do you mean?"

"What do you think is going to happen after I stop being your bodyguard? You're just going to get assigned another one. And then another one after you scare that one off."

"Eh, c'est la vie."

"It doesn't have to be that way. I won't sell you out. I don't care if the queen offers me everything I want in life." Gently, he ran his fingers up to the top of my forearm. "My loyalty is to you, Park."

An odd feeling ran up and down my spine from hearing my name fall out of his mouth, coupled with the heaviness of the oath he just swore. 

"Did you not hear the entire speech that I just passionately delivered about how much I don't trust you not to sell me out?" I asked with a frown. 

"I don't want to be that person, Park. I don't want to be someone you don't trust."

"Why?"

"I just . . . I want to undo these three years."

I didn't know how long we stood there, fingers locked around one another's arms. At this point, the purple tinge in the sky faded entirely into the black night, delegating the last sources of light to the streetlamps below us. 

Against all better judgment, a part of me wanted to give this a chance. There was something about his earnest voice and the intense gleam in his eyes that had me thinking that maybe things would be different this time around. 

Plus, if he predictably sold me out, all I'd have to do would be to put myself in harm's way and boom--he'd been gone, and the cycle would repeat. Maybe I could something less extreme so he could at least keep his job. 

"You're not going to let go of my arm until I agree, huh?" I said. 

"Nope."

"Then, fine!" I pulled my hand back, digging my nails into my palms to dampen the weird electric tingling on my fingertips. "You just ruined my month-long plan to get you to quit. I had so much in store for you."

Logan held his hand out, and I begrudgingly dug his car keys out from my pocket and slapped it into his grip. Together, the two of us trudged down the dimly lit steps until we were back on the streets, the evening breeze quietly ruffling our hair. 

"Don't steal my keys again," Logan requested as we walked past James' car, with Logan paying no attention to it. "I really don't want you to crash it."

"Why so sentimental?" I asked, wiggling my eyebrows. "Is that where you had your first kiss? Oh, wait. I'm pretty sure I stole your first kiss."

"How did you know that--I mean, no." Even in the shadows, Logan's face was visibly pink. "I saved up ten paychecks to buy that car myself. I don't want to do that again."

Financial independence, I see. God, how many principles can one person uphold in their life? Only eighteen years old but he carried himself with the attitude and morals of some spry grandpa. 

I took the lead, steering us down the street towards the grocery market. As we turned the corner, the apartment building blinked out of my view and a question popped into my head.

"Hey," I piped up, glancing over my shoulder to look at Logan. "How did you know where to find me?"

"Took a guess," Logan shrugged. "Saw you helping some lady carry plants up the stairs a few years back. I occasionally saw you leave there too. I assumed you lived there until recently when, you know," and he gestured in my general direction, "all this happened."

I raised a brow. "You know, for a guy who hated me so much, you sure paid a lot of attention to me."

"Don't flatter yourself, princess," he scoffed, nudging my arm with his elbow as he pressed by. When I didn't move, he paused too and gave another nonchalant one-shoulder shrug. "I don't know. You just felt different than everyone."

For a few minutes, I stayed behind, watching him walk ahead of me before he once again turned around and waited patiently without a word, hands in his pockets with his head tilted just slightly. The nearby lamppost barely illuminated his face, but from where I stood, I could make out a small smile, and I felt . . . safe. 

Maybe Logan was going to be different from everyone else too.

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(a/n):

I apologize for the late update -- life just got in the way and also, this chapter was *sings off-pitch* ~~ the worst! to write

one of my old readers reminded me that i used to talk with you guys on ask.fm a lot more and i honestly really enjoyed those times! but i do know ask.fm isn't that popular anymore, so let me know if you guys would enjoy like asking questions via insta-stories or elsewhere!

also, a common question i've been getting is: will i be uploading IDY anytime soon? the answer is no--not until this version is fully completed! 

last bit -- someone told me that the comments on YouTube under the song 'We are in love' by Cider Sky talk about Park and Logan and honestly!!! you guys never cease to warm my heart, it makes me so unbelievably happy (speaking of songs, please feel free to recommend me any tracks you hav that remind you of certain characters/couples!)

hope everyone is staying safe! -- knee