smokin' | louigan

twenty-three

when logan came back inside louise was boiling spaghetti for dinner. her hair was pulled up with a white clip, a tomato sauce stain on her forest green tank. she wielded a wooden spoon dipped with red. she looked at him; those tired, ferocious, chocolate eyes that always expressed so much more than words.

she gulped. tan stretches of curling skin. her lips parted, right brow raised slightly. she stated,

"almost done. set the table, and try not to mess it up." logan smirked, almost forgetting about the cigarettes in his pocket.

looking through the cabinets for plates, logan smiled widely as he discovered the belchers' liquor cabinet. wines and hard alcohol filled the small cabinet. after some looking, logan plucked a new bottle of white wine from the collection. the clink of wine glasses caught louise's attention.

louise watched logan twist the cork off and pour himself a glass. her stomach flipped when he happily sighed at the taste.

"bush, i told you to set the table, not steal wine from my parents' stash." she moved to grab the bottle from his hand but he lifted it above his head. louise persisted, jumping to reach but to no avail. they were chest to chest; louise placed a hand onto his shoulder for leverage as she jumped, logan tried to not buckle under her electric touch.

"you are using my height to your advantage, not cool!" louise crossed her arms in front of her chest. logan wanted to run his finger over the angry crease between her brows. he could feel her angry, heavy, ragged breaths on his chest.

"there's no rules against that and you know it!" he fought back, resisting an eye roll. he brought the bottle down and placed the cork in it. suddenly, louise surged forward and grabbed the neck of the bottle. logan's hands gripped the body as they fought for it.

a dangerous game of tug-of-war, gripping green glass so hard it might break. louise leaned back, almost touching the floor, as she pulled on the neck. her sock-clad feet were slipping on the chestnut hardwood. logan suddenly flew forward, grunting as they fell to the floor.

louise was crushed beneath his large body, her forearms pressing against his hard chest. his head had fallen next to hers, face pressed into her black hair. his hands were brushing the sides of her shoulders. the wine bottle had escaped with a few scratches as it rolled away.

her face felt hotter than her anger as their eyes met. she could see every hair of his blond brows and the curl of his eyelashes. a few freckles lingered on his cheeks. an unfamiliar warmth settled within her, the feeling laced through her ribs and knotted itself in her stomach. she bit her lip as he whispered,

"the spaghetti is boiling over."

louise growled and pushed him away, rushing to the overflowing pot on the stovetop. from the floor he watched her hurried footsteps and smiled at every curse that escaped her pink lips.

a few moments later he stood, grabbed two plates and some forks, and resisted the urge to poke louise with them.

the cigarettes were forgotten.