Sanders Sides One-shots

Too. So. (OTP - Logicality)

Ship: Logicality (an oldie but a goodie! also, I haven't done this ship in forever, omfg)

TW: Swearing

The title won't make sense until you read this, lol.

I'm probably gonna struggle a bit with this chapter; it's kinda a character study but not really. It's just emotional and stuff. Fears, insecurities, etc. All good shit.

Not angsty, just a bit... dramatic?

Lol, you'll see.

Note is at the bottom!

Its grasp, unrelenting in its venture, seized his heart in a vice-grip that clenched its erratic beats. The pressure enclosed around him, its sickly, bony fingers serving as what could be described as the confines of prison bars. He could feel its everconstant presence in the mundanities of each day; it was hard not to when breathing became a manual task.

He wasn't built to feel, let alone feel to such an extreme extent. The thought terrified him; the very embodiment of Logic, overtaken by emotion. He'd been scared when he felt the butterflies spread throughout his body for the first time, scared that it was emotion claiming his body and changing his nature.

He was Logic. He'd grown up as Logic. He was comfortable as Logic. For an unwavering, indeterminable amount of time, he was scared. Was it possible that his existence would be eradicated or rewritten when he finally fell into the trap of emotions?

In a way, he wasn't wrong about the claiming part. Every part within him froze, entranced by just the mere sound of a lively, mellow voice, and even if he hadn't been eradicated, he still felt as if he'd lost a fight.

He wondered why books never mentioned that love was synonymous with fear.

And now, with his heart beating thunderously in his ears and cheeks burning from its dangerous, electrical heat, he felt the grasp of fear tighten around his heart again.

I love you too much.

~~~~~~~~~~

He didn't like not knowing. He despised the very tangible idea that he didn't possess knowledge in imperative fields. He loathed the bitter taste that lingered on his tongue when he thought about all the time he wasted not studying, not researching.

So when the bitter taste arose in his tongue, his hand dove to lift the mug to his lips in an attempt to drown it out with another, more tolerable bitter taste. The coffee worked as a temporary salve, the hot fluid trailing down into his stomach when he hoped it would singe the fluttery wings that resided in it.

His eyes had resolutely locked themselves onto a groove in the table, lips twisted into a thin line as he fought to deny the blush that was trying to push itself onto the surface of his pale skin. The grip on his mug's handle had gone taut, his knuckles blanching white.

He risked a glance up, only to regret it a moment later, when his cheeks burned with heat he'd been trying to diffuse.

Patton was still looking at him with that look.

The utterly besotted look on his face, where his smile was subdued by the ethereal glow about his complexion. His eyes shone with the same light that it typically did, but it was softer. More tender, and intermingled with unadulterated awe. His nose was crinkled up in that annoying(ly endearing) way, and the area around his eyes had followed suit.