Desire (completed)

•Chapter 22•

Chapter 22: Memories.

The small gathering finished and everyone left. Mum went up to her room to cry so Logan and I are cleaning up.

I grab the empty plates off the table and place them beside the sink before loading them into the dishwasher. Logan walks in a moment later holding a few glasses. I take them from him and put them in the dishwasher.

Once we've finished he leans against the counter, whilst I lean against the dishwasher opposite him.

"You're doing really well." He comments, I smile sadly and nod.

But I'm not, it feels like some part of me is being ripped out. I knew he would die. I just didn't expect him to go so quickly. He was doing so well.

"Have you talked to Pretty Boy?" He asks stuffing his hands into his pockets.  I shake my head. I don't really want to see his face, ever.

"Are you... Hurt by him?" He asks, I look down at my feet.

"I am but... I don't know.. It just doesn't hurt as much as I thought it would." I look back up at Logan, he's looking down at me something strange in his eyes.

"Maybe he's wasn't the one you were looking for." My eyes slightly widen at his words. He could be right. But who would be the one I was looking for?

"But who am I looking for?" I ask, he pushes himself up off the counter. His first step towards me makes me freeze. He grins down at me instantly noticing my reaction.

I don't want to feel like this around him but I can't stop it. No matter how hard I try.

He leans in slightly his lips skimming over my cheek before he makes it to my ear.

His voice is soft as he whispers into my ear, "someone who gets you."

And he walks away.

*

*

Logan and I are now lounging on the couch.

We're leaving in a few hours.

We are currently watching Sponge Bob. Logan has his arm thrown across my shoulder and I'm snuggling into his chest.

"I used to love this show when I was younger." He murmurs tracing his forefinger on my arm making patterns.

I sigh. This feels nice. "What else did you do as a kid?" I ask, he chuckles recalling the memories.

"I would always play pranks on the neighbours." He suddenly starts laughing, "one time I got into their roof and as they left their house I threw balloons filled with paint down at them."

We both start laughing.

His laugh is really nice. Way better than all the frowning he does. He actually seems... Happy.

He stops laughing. "What are you staring at?" He cocks a brow, "my gorgeous face?"

I roll my eyes at his cockiness, "no, it's just... You don't laugh that often. It's nice."

He smiles softly.

Mom bounces down the stairs. I'm guessing she's finally stopped crying.

"Alright, have you guys packed your stuff up?"

I turn my head and look up at her. "Are you trying to get rid of us already?" I ask, mom simply laughings.

"No, no. I just don't want you to miss out on any important classes."