There's Twice as Many Stars as Usual| L.S

37

Charlotte

The next day starts early for both of us. Logan has another busy day ahead at the factory, and I decide to spend some time working on my next book. After a quick breakfast together, he heads out, leaving me to my writing.

I set up my laptop in the cozy living room, the morning light streaming in through the windows. The space feels warm and inviting, a perfect sanctuary for creativity. I make myself a cup of tea and settle into the plush armchair by the window, the soft hum of city life outside serving as a comforting background noise.

As I dive into my work, the words flow effortlessly. My fingers dance across the keyboard, bringing the characters and their world to life. Time slips away unnoticed, and I'm completely immersed in the story I'm crafting. It's peaceful and productive, but I find myself glancing at the clock every now and then, counting down the hours until Logan returns.

Around noon, I decide to take a break. My back is stiff from sitting, and my eyes need a rest from the screen. I grab my jacket and head out for a walk, eager to stretch my legs and enjoy some fresh air. The nearby park is my destination, a green oasis in the midst of the bustling city.

As I stroll through the park, I take in the vibrant colors of the flowers and the sound of birds chirping. There's a sense of tranquility here, a stark contrast to the hours spent inside. I sit on a bench by the pond, watching the ducks paddle lazily across the water. My mind drifts to the past few days and how much has changed since Logan and I reconnected. It feels like we're on a new journey together, one filled with promise and excitement.

I pull out my phone and take a few photos of the scenery, thinking about how I might describe it in my book. The walk has cleared my head, and I'm filled with new ideas. Reluctantly, I head back to the apartment, eager to get back to writing.

When I return, I make myself a light lunch – a fresh salad with a bit of grilled chicken. As I eat, I jot down some notes and ideas for my book, not wanting to lose the inspiration sparked by my walk. Once lunch is done, I settle back into my writing, the hours passing quickly as I lose myself in the story.

Before I know it, I hear the sound of the front door opening. Logan is home. His footsteps are heavy with the fatigue of a long day.

"Hey," he calls out, his voice tinged with exhaustion.

I get up and walk over to him, giving him a warm hug. "Long day?"

"Yeah," he sighs, hugging me back tightly. "But it's good to be home."

We spend the evening unwinding together. Logan tells me about his day at the factory, detailing the meetings and the progress they're making on the car. His passion for his work is evident, and I love seeing him so dedicated. I share some of the ideas I have for my book, and he listens intently, offering encouragement and insight.

We decide to make dinner together. It's a simple meal – pasta with homemade marinara sauce, a recipe Logan and I learned from my dad. We move around the kitchen in harmony, chopping vegetables and stirring pots, enjoying the simple act of cooking side by side. It feels like we've found a rhythm, a balance between our busy lives and the time we share.

As we sit down to eat, The conversation flows easily, filled with laughter and shared stories. It's moments like these that make me appreciate the life we're building together.

After dinner, we clean up the kitchen and then settle on the couch to watch a movie. Logan wraps his arm around me, and I snuggle closer, feeling completely at ease. We choose a lighthearted comedy, something to lift our spirits. As the movie plays, we laugh together, the stress of the day melting away..

As the credits roll on the movie, I start to feel sleepy, my eyes growing heavier with each passing minute. I try to fight it, wanting to enjoy a few more moments of this cozy evening with Logan, but eventually, I can't keep my eyes open any longer. My head lolls to the side, resting against the soft cushion of the couch.

Logan glances over and notices I'm dozing off. Smiling softly, he reaches over and brushes a stray lock of hair from my face. "Guess it's bedtime for you," he murmurs. Gently, he shifts, slipping his arms under me and lifting me effortlessly. I stir slightly, half-awake, but too tired to fully comprehend what's happening.

He carries me to the bedroom, his footsteps soft and steady. The familiar scent of his cologne mixed with the faint smell of laundry detergent surrounds me, making me feel safe and loved. As he reaches the bed, he carefully lowers me onto the mattress. The sheets are cool against my skin, and I instinctively snuggle into the pillows.

Logan tucks the blanket around me, making sure I'm comfortable. I open my eyes just a sliver, catching a glimpse of his tender expression as he watches me. "Sleep well, Char," he whispers, brushing his lips against my forehead.

I mumble something incoherent in response, already drifting back into sleep. Logan changes into more comfortable clothes and slides into bed beside me. The mattress dips slightly under his weight, and I feel his warmth radiate through the blanket. He wraps an arm around me, pulling me close. The rhythmic sound of his breathing lulls me further into relaxation.

For a moment, I'm on the edge of consciousness, feeling the rise and fall of Logan's chest against my back. His presence is reassuring, and I know that whatever tomorrow brings, we'll face it together. I can't help but smile softly as sleep finally takes over, enveloping me in a deep, peaceful slumber.