smokin' | louigan

thirteen

louise stared at her reflection in the hallway mirror, brows furrowed at the lip gloss she had just applied. it was a soft pink and tasted like peaches.

she reached for the keys in a small basket by the front door, her mind buzzing in frazzling nerves so loud that she almost forgot her ears.

louise looked back at the mirror. at the tight forest green tank, the dark denim shorts, the styled hair, at the d*mn lip gloss.

logan berry bush was streaked across her mind like paint, a permanent etch in her head. every blink was blond hair, every word was gravel, every twitch was pale ice. each passing second was a reminder of the blond down the hall.

louise belcher doesn't do feelings; she doesn't have the time.

her life was beating to a rhythm and she felt a crescendo brewing in her stomach with every passing thought of him. he was a word on the tip of her tongue, a taste of ice cream that had an indecipherable flavor.

logan was everything louise feared. and she loved it.

with an excited sigh, louise secured her bunny ears on her head and walked out of the apartment. she quickly locked the door behind her and started towards the wharf.