Logan, always perceptive, immediately noticed the tension radiating from his friend. Zeriel's jaw was clenched, his shoulders tense, and his eyes had a fire in them that Logan had seen only a handful of times before—each instance tied to something he couldn't simply brush off. Sighing, Logan stood, his playful demeanor fading as he glanced at Zephan, giving him a quick nod to keep practicing solo. Without a word, he followed Zeriel up the stairs, the sound of their footsteps a steady rhythm that matched the turbulent thoughts in Zeriel's head.
Reaching Zeriel's room, Logan leaned against the doorframe, observing his friend as he threw himself onto his bed, running his hands over his face in a gesture of pure exasperation. Logan knew Zeriel well enough to recognize when he was on the verge of an emotional eruption, so he chose his words carefully, adopting a calm but concerned tone.
