CLANDESTINE | HS |

THIRTY

Harry

Family.

The one place you're supposed to be able to be yourself and watch people around share in your joy, to watch them be happy for you.

Instead, it felt like everything would fall apart the moment the truth slipped from my lips— would fall apart the moment I reached over to tuck a loose strand of hair behind Lo's ear.

Last night it felt like the tension could have been cut with a knife and served to a party of twelve, not a table set for five.

Sitting across the table from the only person you've ever wanted and not being able to kiss them or hold there hand is a level of torture I never knew existed.

There's a lot of things I didn't know existed before Logan.

Both of them left before me, subsequently not long after the table was cleared and my mom made a comment about how Logan was single and I was single— as if she was planting the seed for Lauren.

Ten minutes later we found out how she felt about that.

It wasn't until a few hours later when the sound of my garage door opening brought a smile to my face, knowing the person I seemed to love more and more actually used the small button I'd given her.

When I opened the door that led out into the garage and leaned against the doorframe, I couldn't have wiped the smile off my face if I tried.

Only hours after we sat at a table, unable to touch each other or really even talk, and then there she was parking her car next to mine in the garage and running to jump in my arms, her Ugg slippers falling to the floor as she kissed me.

I still remember the day she met me for coffee around the corner from the office after she took her mom to an appointment, those ugly shoes on her feet along with some leggings and that stupid sweater, claiming that 'fall was around the corner'.

Now fall is practically here.

The leaves were starting to turn in my front yard and the chill was just starting to set in— just enough that Logan pressed her body into mine as much as possible.

Just like right now.

Looking over, espresso colored hair fans across my pillows and the freckles that dance across her shoulder blades are just a little less prominent than they used to be, but one thing remains the same.

The sight of her bare back in my bed, her body next to mine, still feels like the most beautiful thing I've ever seen.

No matter how many pieces of art she shows me.

She's still my favorite piece.

Peering over her shoulder to the clock that sits on her side, it reads just after three which means we need to get up soon to get ready for the work dinner that she convinced me that we needed to go to tonight.

I was more than content with just staying home with her, but whatever she wants seems to be what I want to give to her.

No matter what it is.

Leaning forward, I press my lips to her soft skin at the same time that my palm slides across her hip and over to rest across her belly. A chuckle slips past my lips knowing when we crawled in bed for a nap she was wearing one of my shirts claiming she was cold.

In reality I just know she likes to wear my clothes, even if she gets hot and sheds them when she sleeps.

I don't mind, I like feeling how soft she is, how warm.