smokin' | louigan

six

when eight o'clock rolled around louise flipped the sign to 'closed' and locked the door. she turned, glaring at the tall blond cleaning the bar. she never expected to see him again, and she didn't want to.

logan was no longer a lanky teen with a passion to make kids' lives h*ll. he was broad and built and oh so handsome louise almost concussed herself just thinking that.

i hate him, i hate him, I HATE HIM.

"did you go see cynthia, logan?" louise spit her name out quickly, like the older woman was a bad taste in her mouth. logan's mother had always been rude to her, especially as a child. his hand stopped moving, his shoulders instantly tensed.

"yup." logan popped the 'p' loudly as he resumed cleaning. louise stared awkwardly, fiddling with the ends of her hat.

"and i'm guessing that didn't work out then." louise smirked at her enemy's misfortune, giggling at the blank stare he sent from across the bar. she began collecting dirty mugs and plates and piled them onto an old plastic cart as he replied,

"surprisingly, you're correct." he sighed, running a hand through his blond hair in frustration. louise watched, memories quickly flooding into her mind. he was the reason she woke up screaming in the middle of the night as a child, haunted by the burglary of her bunny ears and the darkness that always brewed in his eyes. she had feared what logan could become, and now she watched the malevolence cover him like a dark blanket. he was dark gray, sinking into the cracks in the walls like a bad stain. he was everlasting yet always seemed to escape the light's grasp.

"where the h*ll you gonna go then idiot?" louise leaned against the counter, untying the knot of her apron. he glanced at her; somehow she made curse words sound holy. logan quickly slammed his rag down and ripped his apron from his hips. he grabbed his duffle and leather jacket from underneath the bar, and with a sharp glare, said,

"anywhere but here, belcher."