“no, c’mon — c’mon, c’mon, cmon.” clearly someone isn’t taking no for an answer here, as made obvious by the rapid shaking of his head and his consistent tugs to fern’s hands despite her own clear attempts at digging her heels into the ground. “you set this whole thing up — just one dance!” it’s true, obviously. fern set the whole event up and, in logan’s opinion, everything went swimmingly. the club has successfully opened (cheers to that), logan’s had a little too much to drink (double cheers to that), and fern looks a little too good in the dress she’s —………is this off the record? “just take a break for five minutes, yeah? it won’t kill you. i can request the cha cha slide so you don’t have to dance with me, if you want.” he would. he so totally would. he’d probably be wheezing out a laugh in between each word, but still. it’d be a bit of a mess, yet still fitting. especially considering he had to press in to hear a damn word she’s saying over the music — huh. since when does fern smell good? not just good — he likes it. the realization’s making him a little dizzy, really, and then he’s pulling back to look at her, eyes lingering over her features and — “fuck — no, electric slide it is.”