Sorry, for the delay. I've been obsessing over GoT and half-heartedly poking at the long unfinished 3rd chapter of my Rogan fic, "The Death of Duty".
Sixteen
"We're really high up," Laura observed, nose pressed to the glass.
Victor grunted in affirmation.
"The people look like ants!"
She didn't seem to have a problem with high places.
The elevator doors finally creaked open to the cacophony of the restaurant at the top of the tower.
His brother and the Rogue were already there waiting on them. He'd scented the pair down at the entrance, and Victor had been half tempted to send the girl up on her own. With his luck, she'd just end up right back at his house, though, so Victor accompanied her.
James- no, Logan- was standing in the center of the room, arms crossed, legs apart.
Stepping out of the elevator, Laura mimicked his brother either consciously or unconsciously. Both of them stood there scowling at each other, and they would have kept it up all day, stubborn as they both were.
Victor nudged the kid forward.
"There. Go."
Laura glared at him.
"Remember what we talked about, earlier?" Victor murmured, below the din.
She nodded.
"Well?"
"Fine," The child huffed, and stomped over to her father.
His erstwhile brother nodded once in his direction, and Victor responded in kind. He jabbed the down button until the doors slid closed on the scene before him.
As far as Victor was concerned, that was that.