smokin' | louigan

thirty-nine

"thanks for stopping in, have a good night," logan called from behind the bar as he wiped over the counter with a rag. the small family was already out on the sidewalk, the door finally closing on the last customer of the grueling day. louise flipped the open sign to 'closed' and locked the door, a small satisfied smile on her tired face.

when she turned around logan was already gone, his footsteps loud on the stairwell. her smile fell abruptly; she blew a loose strand of black hair from her eyes and untied the dirty waist apron from her body.

the smell of fried food and sweat lingered on her body. the shower had given out on her again yesterday morning, a similar occurrence to that of several weeks ago, the beginning of the summer, really of it all.

the beginning of him. louise and logan. two people, two stories, and a sh*tload of reasons to hate each other.

even though his entrance into her life was completely surprising, he had quickly become an important constant in her daily routine. his fast banter and work ethic proved to be essential to her days running the restaurant all alone. not even the older belcher siblings could keep up with him.

even today, louise remembered logan carry six plates at once and not dropping anything (though part of her wished he had).

she entered the upstairs apartment, allowing her eyes to quickly adjust to the dim moonlight to guide her to the hallway. her steps were silent, a token of her high school nights, sneaking to rudy's car parked down the block or running to anita's for a boozy sleepover.

she came to a crossroads of sorts. the door to her bedroom, a solitude, a single-handed escape.

or the door to logan. to ice and blond hair, midnight smirks as his fingers brushed against the small of her bare back. shivers down her body. smiles in her eyes.

she entered her bedroom, her frown persisting. when she closed the door she slumped against it, bringing a hand to pinch the bridge of her nose. the light sweat over her body had seemed to fade away, the coldness of her actions and maybe the open window sending long shivers over her body. she brought her arms to cross over her chest, sliding down the door slowly. louise's throat felt constricted but she refused to let herself drown in pity and pain and tears for another night.

louise stood and flicked the light switch, squinting at the brightness. she stood in front of her mirror and slipped the stained black t-shirt off along with the denim shorts and white socks. she remained in just her undergarments.

she turned slightly from side to side, stopping to stare at her left profile. her hand moved to the tattoo on her ribs, just under the band of her bralette, of cherry blossoms and shards of glass.

louise smiled at the memory. at fifteen she allowed anita to tattoo her first client. after much convincing and planning, they had created an image of flowers and broken glass. an image of chaotic beauty. at the time it reflected her, an homage to her determination and degeneracy.

now, the black-and-shaded gray image reminded her of logan. the rare smile that would blossom on his face to the angry curl of his lip.

she sighed and stared at her door.

she opened the door.

she stood in the hallway, arms crossed over her chest.

her fingers glided over the tattoo once more.

she opened his door.

his tired gaze met hers, an unlit cigarette sitting between his lips, a book in his hands. into the wild, jon krakauer. she smirked softly,

"was supposed to read that last year. is it any good?" logan stared at her for another moment, eyes lingering over the tan stretches exposed tanned skin, from the dip in her waist to the long roads of leg.

he quickly averted his gaze, closing the book softly and placing it on the nightstand. he paused, still turned toward the nightstand, turned away from her. he let out a small breath he had been holding as the bed dipped behind him. he shook his head,

"was it worth it?" he asked, voice husky with fatigue and an aftertaste of disappointment. she was quick to shake her head,

"i got drunk and you weren't there." he rolled his eyes,

"you ran away. i've been here, i've always been here." he shut off the lamp and settled into the bed, turned away from her. she stared at his back, raising her hand to grasp his shoulder but paused just above his skin.

she retracted her hand and relaxed onto her back, eyes glossed over with fresh tears as she stared at the ceiling.

"i'm so sorry," she whispered into the darkness, turning onto her side, turning away from logan. she bit her lip. the tattoo on her side suddenly seemed to burn, too hot to touch, to even think about.

the soft break of her voice was enough. he looked behind himself, into the blackness, eyes slowly adjusting to the slope of her side.

he suddenly pulled her into his arms with a long sigh, his breath glossing over the back of her neck.

"no matter what you do, belcher, you've got me. always."