How to steal a man (until past do we part)

A rumour called The Truth

When a lie never resurfaces it becomes a part of us, we become the lie. For a long time you are aware that you are lying - the unnatural feeling. But eventually it becomes the truth so we are faced with a choice:

Tell the truth

or

Let the lie live on?

I often found myself contemplating who i am and who could i be?

I still struggle to find the answer, because the truth is, i lost myself the day i lost Logan.

The day i lost him torments me relentlessly, you may wonder why i have returned to the place of his death; well we had big plans and we based our future around London. I will live my life, just without Logan. For years i tried to convince myself that anywhere could be a home, but my heart has led me here - i can't leave.

Finally, after 7 years i am beginning to let go of Logan, after seeing Colt, it felt like long awaited arms had granted me refuge.

"Just let go of my hand" Logan said, his voice ringing in my head.

"We aren't safe, Logan no, don't let go." I whisper in a panicked and demanding tone.

We were stood in the middle of a field adjacent to a motorway, the wheat concealing us from the majority of the naked eye. There, i stood holding Logan's hand for the very last time. We - the passengers to the grave could not have a ticket for the same journey - because he died right there and i did inside too.

The gang had chased us and Logan looked at me in  a way i had never seen before:

He knew we were going to die, i knew this because he did the very thing i begged him not to.:

He let go of my hand.

But that story will come soon enough.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Colt's hand still touching mine, i look up at him.

He looks back, his bright eyes standing out more with his trophy bruise, he doesn't smile because there is no way i can describe the way he is looking at me - i'll do my best. It's like he has just found out either that his mother has died or he is reading that he has won the lottery - it's the reaction before the reaction; the look of not being able to comprehend your emotion until it settles in.

"What are you thinking, Colt?" I ask, still looking at him awaiting a response.

He looks at me intensely, my knees shake but i do not let it show, i am so nervous to hear his thoughts and i have no idea why.

"I am thinking that we---"

There is a loud bang down the corridor and Colt's grip tightens around mine, the sound bleeds to the door and they swing open like a treasure chest.  As they open Colt, shields me and hides me around a corner purely because the sound is one that resembles a gun.

With my back against a cabinet i look at him, standing there and waiting to take on whatever comes through that door. The director, he had earned his title from his braveness in that moment. He looks at me briefly, his blue and green eyes twinkling - no fear visible.

A man walks in and says, "Sir, your car has been damaged." A voice calls.

Colt sighs with relief as if it was a blessing to hear.

"Oh, can it be fixed?" He asks lightly.

I know the coast is clear but i feel as if it's not okay to intrude now.