UNBROKEN PROMISE

~6~ settling

Logan's POV
When Oma came down with Mama Becca, she looked... different. Better. Gone was the shabby, ragged dress that clung to her like a second shadow, dirt and wear showing every hard mile of her journey. Her hair, once wild and tangled, was now neatly braided into cornrows, framing her face in a way that drew my attention to her delicate features. Without the faint traces of soot on her skin, her beauty was undeniable—soft and striking all at once.

Her skin was a warm caramel tone, smooth but marked with the kind of story only hardship could write. Her lips caught my gaze first: full and soft, with the upper lip a rich, dark brown and the lower a gentle pink, like she’d been kissed by the sun itself. Her eyes, green like polished emeralds, were hauntingly beautiful, though shadowed by sadness and weariness. Freckles dusted her high cheekbones, and her fine collarbone peeked from the neckline of her clean dress.

She stood tall—probably around 5'7—but she was so thin, so frail, that it almost startled me. Her waist was small making way for her hips and giving her a nice shape, her frame petite, but it wasn’t the kind of delicate you’d admire. It was the kind born from hunger, from going without for far too long. She was all skin and bones, like a strong gust of wind might carry her away if I wasn’t careful.

Still, even in her fragility, there was a quiet strength to her, a kind of beauty that didn’t just catch your eye—it lingered, gnawed at your chest, and refused to let go. And as I looked at her, I knew I’d made the right choice bringing her here. She needed care, rest, and food... and I’d make sure she had it all.

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Oma's POV

Logan guided me out of the main house. His steps were slow, deliberate, as if giving me time to absorb my new surroundings. The air outside was cool, and the fading light of the evening cast a soft glow over the hills that stretched beyond the house. I followed him in silence, unsure of what to say. I was still trying to wrap my head around everything—where I was, who these people were, and how I’d ended up here.

We walked for a while, following a dirt path that curved away from the main house and toward a  structure on the east side of the property. Logan's place. I could see it just up ahead, set against the backdrop of rolling hills that stretched far into the distance. It was simple, with stone walls almost weathered, and as we approached, I couldn’t help but notice the difference between this house and the main one. Where the main house stood tall and clean, with its well-kept porch and bright windows, Logan’s house looked like it had seen better days. The floors were grimy, the windows clouded with dust. The door creaked loudly as he pushed it open, and I stepped inside hesitantly.

“Home sweet home,” Logan muttered, giving me a brief smile as he motioned for me to follow him inside.

The place felt... neglected. Like it hadn’t had the care or attention it deserved in a long time. The furniture was sturdy but worn, and the floor looked like it hadn’t been swept in days, maybe weeks. I glanced at Logan, wondering how he managed to live in such a state. But then again, I wasn’t in any position to judge. I barely had anything to my name before I’d stumbled into his life.

“This’ll be your room,” Logan said, gesturing toward a small door when we got upstairs . I stepped inside the room and found it simple, like the rest of the house. A bed, a small dresser, and not much else. The bed was unmade, sheets wrinkled and stained with dust. I brushed my hand across the windowsill, and a small puff of dirt rose into the air. It was clear this room hadn’t been used in a while.

I glanced back at Logan, who lingered in the doorway, his arms crossed over his chest. “I know it’s not much,” he said, his West Virginia accent thick, rough around the edges, “but it’s yours. For now, we’ll sleep separate. We don’t know each other well enough yet, and I figure it’s best we take things slow.”