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Logan had been acting odd lately. Virgil couldn’t pinpoint where the behavior had begun but regardless, it was evident something was amiss. At first, he had tried to ignore it all together, deciding that he was being irrational and that his best friend was just under a lot of pressure in his classes. Surely his short temper and tendency to spend less and less time with Virgil was a result of this high level of stress. But, of course, Virgil was not the sort to be able to look past issues of this kind with ease.
He didn’t want to believe there was something the matter with Logan. In the friend group, they both occupied Logan was someone who didn’t let things get to him easily, or at least he didn’t show it. He always expressed that he could handle issues without assistance and that he didn’t deal with problems tied to emotions; oftentimes, Logan hardly addressed that he had any emotions whatsoever. Virgil knew better though.
The two of them had been friends for nearly six years now, having met at the beginning of high school. There had been an immediate connection between them, a very rare occurrence for Virgil. He didn’t always make friends very easily, finding it very difficult to find individuals who he could not only trust but also connect with. Logan was different though, distinctly so from the start.
Since the first day of ninth grade, Logan had shown up to school in slacks, a polo shirt, never without a necktie. He seemed to think his seriousness was somehow linked to said piece of fabric. His aura was strangely calming for Virgil, one that provided support and an unending thirst for knowledge. Virgil really adored how eager Logan was to learn new things, seeing his eyes go wide and bright when he discovered something new. His company was a welcome addition to his other friends who he had known since childhood, Patton and Roman.
The two were both very kind induvial who he cared for greatly…but they were also very, very loud and extremely extra. They were never afraid to put themselves out there and didn’t mind being noticeably bold, unlike Virgil. Also, the two were deeply, annoyingly in love and they didn’t ever shy away from public displays of affection. It could be irritating at times.
Spending time with Logan as well as they seemed to balance things out nicely, and through the time they had known each other, the pair were extremely close, knowing practically everything about one another. Despite this, for the past several weeks Virgil had seen less and less of his friend. Logan, a person who had previously been the one he had spent the most time with was becoming a ghost. With each passing day, Virgil found himself becoming more and more anxious without Logan around, the stress of not understanding what was going on with his friend becoming overwhelming. It was driving him crazy with worry, really. So much so, that he couldn’t bring himself to allow this severance to continue being present between them – at least not without the knowledge of why it was happening.
After class one day Virgil had finally mustered up the courage to confront Logan about the issue. He missed his friend, desperately so, and he was becoming weary without him.
Virgil’s feelings for Logan, despite what he might have wanted to convince himself, were not purely platonic. He willed himself to ‘get over’ this affection that had been festering in him for years, but it was no use. No one had such a handle on their emotions, despite what he might’ve wished for. Sure, he knew that Logan was gay too, them having confessed that to each other ages ago, but that didn’t aid in the convincing that Logan could feel the same way. Especially not now.
Virgil shoved these affections into the deep recesses of his mind as he nervously plodded onto the doorstep of Logan’s apartment, a hesitant hand pausing at the door before knocking. The emo fidgeted, stuffing his hands into his hoodie pockets. He waited a long moment, about to turn around and walk away, deciding Logan wasn’t home before the door suddenly swung open revealing a horror unlike ever he had imagined.
There, standing – or really stumbling, really – was the man himself, looking absolutely catastrophic. The nerd’s normally meticulously slicked back hair was void of any styling gel and uncombed, leaving strands of it going this way and that. His slacks had been switched out for a pair of pajama bottoms with a print of constellations on them, his usual polo shirt on, though littered with countless unidentifiable stains. His ‘serious’ tie was present, though not around his neck, but rather his head like a makeshift bandana. His glasses were slipping off of his nose and Logan’s skin was paler than usual, though his cheeks alone were a deep crimson. The crown jewel of all of the anomalies, however, was Logan’s positively uncharacteristic dopey grin.
“L-Lo?” Virgil asked cautiously, built up anger and fear being swapped out for deep concern. God, he hardly recognized Logan in such an alarming state and – was that alcohol on his breath? This was yet another of many cues that something was deeply wrong. Logan never drank, couldn’t handle liquor all that well, and now he was apparently shit-faced drunk in his apartment. Virgil suddenly forgot whatever it was that he was going to say, staring in shock at his mess of a friend.
“Ah, Virgil. How pleasant it is to see you,” Logan said, still smiling wide, swaying slightly as he shifted in the doorway. There was a more than slight slur to his voice. Virgil didn’t know what to think.
“Uh…it is?”
“Of course! Come in, companion. I a-assume there was something you wanted to discuss. You seem very nervous,” Logan deducted grinning still, ducking into his apartment and motioning for Virgil to follow. Virgil felt a shudder rack his body as he paused a moment, confused beyond belief before anxiously following after his disoriented friend.
The interior of Logan’s apartment wasn’t much better than its occupant. It’s once precise cleanliness seemed to be a thing of the past with glasses and dishes littering every available space, papers splayed across the floor and an overall absence of order present all throughout. An entirely drained bottle of a very cheap liquor lay on the ground, an object the emo nearly tripped over. Virgil’s mind was already working overtime trying to be able to comprehend what could have possibly happened to his once so put-together friend.
Logan plopped himself down onto the sofa which was a surprisingly clean surface in comparison to the rest of the place and turned his head sideways, staring at Virgil with an almost childlike curiosity; it worried Virgil to no end. Virgil sat down in the armchair across from the sofa, folding his arms over his chest.
“Well, what is it that I can do for you, Vargil. Ha! I mean, V-i-r-g-i-l,” he said extremely slowly, trying hard to pronounce his friend’s name correctly in his drunken state. Virgil took a deep breath, eyes settling on Logan, whose’ happy smile had since faded, replaced by a rather sorrowful expression. Virgil couldn’t understand it; he’d looked so stupidly joyous just a moment ago.
“Logan…” Virgil started, a frown tugging at his lips, “I wanted to know…well, why you have been ignoring me. I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be all dramatic and shit but – I’ve missed you. A lot. And now,” he paused, gesturing to Logan, “I’m really worried about you. Dude, you never drink and now you’re tossed? What’s going on?” Logan scowled, anger burning in his eyes.
“I am not drunk!” He slurred, offense still managing to come through, “How could you in –hic!– insinuate such a thing!” Logan cried passionately, hiccupping again once he’d gotten through the sentence. Virgil puffed out a deep sigh, running his hands through his hair and staring at his friend with every ounce of worry he felt.
“L, buddy, there’s an empty bottle lying on the floor. Your speech is slurred – for fuck’s sake, I can smell it on your breath! Don’t try and lie your way out of this one because I promise you, it isn’t going to work. Just…talk to me? Please? Tell me what’s been up lately? I’m worried about you.” The last sentence was muffled significantly, just a ghost of a whisper. Still, Logan heard it, and it stirred something in him.
“Okay,” he said, lowering his head so that his eyes met the ground, uncombed hair falling limp in front of his eyes, “Perhaps I’ve had a bit.”
“A bit?”
“Fine, quite a lot,” Logan admitted softly, “Regardless, it doesn’t matter,” he sighed, burying his face in his hands.
“It does matter, though,” Virgil interjected in concern, “Come on, Logan. Don’t you get it? I’ve seen almost none of you in the past few weeks, you’ve constantly been blowing me off – which is really unlike you – and now I find you like this. This is something I might expect of myself. But you? Never.”
“I…I apologize - wasn’t ever my intention to upset you,” Logan mumbled quietly, the completeness of his sentences crumbling, “I’ze just been …sad as of late.”
“You’re sad?” Virgil asked in a low voice, “Dude, why didn’t you tell me? I know a whole lot about being sad. You should’ve come for help, instead of ignoring me. Maybe I could've helped, I dunno, talked through some shit with you. God damn it, Lo, I didn’t know you were suffering. I should have been paying more attention. Normally I know to look out for something like this. Jesus Christ, I’m so stupid!” Virgil cried out, feeling his heart sink as he locked eyes with Logan as tears ran down his cheeks. Oh no.
“Logan…” Virgil asked quietly, getting up out of his chair and walking over to his friend. Slowly, as not to startle him. He hadn’t seen Logan cry since they were in their early high school years, and even then, it had been out of frustration. But this, this was different. Logan looked so startled by his own emotion like he didn’t know what crying felt like until just now. It broke Virgil up inside. He placed a gentle hand on the nerd’s tense shoulder, Logan’s eyes wide and staring out into space. “Hey, dude. I’m here its ok–.”
“I’m broken,” Logan said suddenly. It was the first sentence he’d spoken in the past few minutes that held such clarity. “I’m s-so broken.” The tears continued to cascade down his cheeks as he shivered, sniveling every couple of second. His eyes still fixed on anything except Virgil, wide and terrified. Virgil’s heart pounded.
“Dude, no. Don’t say that. You…you aren’t broken.”
“How would you know?!” Logan shouted, erupting into an unexpected rage as he bolted up from where he sat and stood on unsteady legs to face his friend who he finally looked at. There was a fire burning in his caramel eyes, an untamed fury fed by the elixir of vodka.
“L-Logan-”
“NO!” he screamed through the power of his sobs, pointing an accusing finger at Virgil, “You don’t understand! Y-you’ll never understand. It’s a-all your fault! E-every single day I’m…broken…b-broken down by my feelings. M-my emotions, they-they ravage me. Eat me from t-the inside out until I’m nothing. …Nothing a-at all. They keep m-me awake and squeeze the l-life from my body. T-they take away m-my power…leave me weak and a-afraid and I…I can’t stop them. T-they kill me and I just,” he squeezed his eyes shut, hand clenching as his arm fell limp at his side, knees wobbling, “I…I just want them to stop….” He stumbled for a moment trying to regain his balance before his legs gave out and Virgil practically dove to catch him, uprighting his friend. Logan clung tightly to him, sobbing in anguish into his chest as Virgil ran an unsteady hand through the nerd’s ruffled hair, quieting him.
“Shh, it’s going to be alright. I’ve got you, Logan. I’ve got you.” The tears poured from Logan’s eyes as Virgil picked him up and carried him to the couch. He sat the nerd in his lap and held him until the demons let him be a while, leaving behind the shell of a scared, emotionally-tormented boy; Virgil’s best friend.
Virgil wanted to know why Logan had blamed him for his feelings, why he claimed that Virgil was responsible for him being ‘broken,’ but he didn’t dare ask. Not now. Not when his friend was in such a lowly state. Instead, he took care of him that night, stayed with him, refusing to leave his side.
=+=
“V-Virgil,” Logan sputtered out hoarsely, his head half in the toilet bowl, having just emptied the contents of his stomach for the second time. Virgil rubbed slow, even circles into the small of Logan’s back, sitting with him on the bathroom floor.
“Yeah, Lo?”
“I…I apologize. For everything,” he said weakly, sincerity breaking through his hazy, exhausted voice. “didn’t mean to…be such a burden.” A long sigh rolled from Virgil’s parted lips as he gave Logan’s shoulder a gentle squeeze.
“Hey no, don’t say that. You aren’t a burden.”
“I know that…you’re speaking in falsehoods.”
“I’m telling the truth, Logan,” Virgil swore, upset that his friend was calling himself a burden. That he considered himself to be such a thing. Virgil had understood Logan wasn’t perfect a long time ago, that he was troubled. Lost. But he’d never delved this deep into it, hadn’t seen Logan in all of his pain this clearly before. “You aren’t burdening me. You’re my best friend. The person who I’ve spilled my guts to for years. You know about all my fucked-up thoughts and problems, and you’re still here. I haven’t scared you away, somehow. So, don’t tell me that you’re the burden around here, okay?”
“Virgil…” Logan whined, yes, actually whined, before he realized he didn’t know what else to say and curled up in anguish on the bathroom floor. Virgil rested a hand on his back.
“C’mon, man. You gotta cut me some slack here. You’re my best friend in the whole world. I care about you a hell of a lot. I-.” He stopped, pausing because in this context it felt so wrong to say, but the truth got the better of him. “I love you.” He meant it in a friend way, of course, he did. This wasn’t a love declaration, or at least it wasn’t supposed to be because Virgil wasn’t insane. But as he said it Logan perked up his head with wide, glassy eyes that immediately filled with tears. Somehow, Virgil had missed up. “Logan?”
“I…I a-apologize,” Logan muttered through more tears, “I…I’m j-just n-not right. I-I promise…I’ll…I’ll be better in the m-morning.”
“Hey, come on now, i-it’s alright,” Virgil half-promised, because in all honesty, he didn’t know if that was the truth. “L, did I…did I do something wrong? Why am I making you c-cry?” Before today, Virgil had never been the source of Logan’s tears. It broke him up inside, made him feel hollow and weak.
“Please,” Logan practically begged, sitting up to face Virgil with eye glistening with tears, his glasses set on the bathroom counter, “D-don’t blame yourself. T-this…this isn’t you’re doing. I can’t b-bear to have you b-blame yourself,” Logan hiccupped, tears continuing to cascade down his face now beet red. Virgil didn’t know what to do, what to think. He didn’t know what he’d done, but clearly, it was bad.
“L…just, talk to me. W-what’s going on?” He asked in desperation, whipping away Logan’s tears with the pad of his thumb. Logan shivered. He swallowed hard. His mouth opened, shut and came ajar again. He took in a raspy breath.
“I…I l-love you, Virgil.” The emo cocked his head in confusion, setting his hands at his sides.
“I know you do, Logan. Of Course, I do.” Logan shook his head, practically growling in frustration.
“No! Y-you don’t get it! W-why you break me! I-I don’t just lovey-you,” Logan wailed, finally letting it all go as the sobs bubbled in his throat, “I’m in love with you!” After that Logan collapsed to the bathroom floor, sobbing harder and harder with each passing second, revealing just how broken he really was.
Virgil scooped him off the floor wordlessly, carrying him to his bed as he wept and clung to him like a child. That night he tucked his friend into his bed, watching him cry helplessly until his energy was spent and he passed out. There was so much he had wanted to say, so much he wanted to do, but he couldn’t. Not when Logan was in such a state. Not when his friend was so vulnerable when his words didn’t mean anything at all. Despite what he wanted, Virgil couldn’t act on it. He was a better man than that. He laid on the couch of Logan’s apartment, his thoughts eating him away and keeping him awake long into the night.
Virgil slept poorly.
=+=
Logan awoke to early morning sunlight streaming through the blinds and an absolute beast of a headache. His entire body ached tremendously. He groaned wearily, scrubbing a hand over his face and reaching on the nightstand for his glasses.
What had happened last night?
When Logan got the glasses on secure, he looked over to see a glass of water and a couple of Advil sitting on his nightstand – items he didn’t remember putting there. Regardless, they were needed, and he gulped down the pills with a large swig of water, downing the glass in a few swallows. His eyes landed on a small piece of purple paper sitting where the glass had been and he picked it up curiously, his vision still swimming as he read it over.
Hey L, I stayed over to make sure you were okay. I left you some water and some headache medicine – it’s gonna be one monster hangover, I’m sure. Good thing we don’t have classes today. I’ll be in the living room when you want to get up.
- V
Logan’s hands began trembling as he dropped the note, feeling his heart palpitate quickly as memories of the evening prior resurfaced. It came in hazy, blinding waves that crashed over his weary body mercilessly. The things he had said and done. How he had practically broken in two, split at the seams right in front of his friend. How Virgil had coddled him. That he’d confused his most buried secret. God, he wanted to cocoon himself in blankets and hide there for eternity.
He’d ruined things, surely. Killed off his most prized companionship, and now he would have to face the aftermath. It made him feel even more nauseous than he already was. How could he be such an imbecile! He had just wanted to numb the pain a while, make it go away and instead what he’d thought was his salvation had become his undoing. He really was a lightweight.
Fear gripped him, made his stomach churn. Why did Virgil have to be so goddamn perfect? Why did he have to go looking for him, and ask him all that he did? Why did he stay once Logan’s walls had come tumbling down? These were all questions that mystified Logan.
He rose slowly, achingly. Logan stood by his bed for a long, quiet moment, assessing his options. He quickly came to find he had no options, to begin with. Whether he was prepared or not, he needed to face the music and go out there. He needed to answer whatever Virgil asked and face whatever consequences last night brought on. It was going to hurt, he knew that well, but it needed to be done. Virgil had sounded so worried last night, had looked at him with big, concerned eyes. He had been held in his friends’ arms while he fell apart, and Virgil had stayed over to further make sure Logan was alright. Or something close to it, anyway. Logan didn’t deserve such generosity. Some answers would be the least he could do to make it up to Virgil.
He walked to the door haltingly, turning the handle intensely slow, as though every second he could procrastinate what was to come next was of value. When he walked down the hall and into the living room, he was stricken with surprise.
The wasteland that his living space had been reduced to through his breakdown had vanished. All of his papers had been put away, the cups and plates in the cupboards, the bottle gone. The kitchen and living room were spotless like last night had been a figment of his imagination.
Logan felt breathless as his eyes landed on Virgil, standing in the kitchen, spreading jam onto a piece of toast. He was still in his clothes from the day before, hair slightly ruffled and makeup not present. He was beautiful. He took an anxious step forward, earning a groan from the floorboards beneath him. Virgil whipped around, crofters’ smeared butter-knife in hand and faced Logan. He looked nearly as nervous as Logan felt.
“Logan, dude, hey, morning,” Virgil spoke quickly his lips pulling into a small anxious smile as he set the knife down on the counter, “How’re you feeling?” Logan’s throat felt dry and he could taste the unspoken words he so desperately wanted to expel but just…couldn’t. Not now.
“Not very well, but I’m sure that was expected,” he settled for, cowardly, he thought to himself.
“Yeah, well, sorry L. Did you take the Advil?”
“Yes, I did.”
“Good. I made you some toast,” he said, picking up the plate, “if you can stomach it right now. I added Crofters if that helps.” Logan suppressed a smile.
“Immensely. Uh…thank you, Virgil. And you…reordered my apartment,” he noted. Virgil chuckled softly.
“That’s one way to put it.”
“I-that was very…kind and I appreciate it greatly.” Virgil sighed, handing him over the plate.
“It was nothing, really. I know you would’ve done the same.”
“Perhaps…” Logan mumbled, sitting down on the sofa with his plate in his lap.
“Lo, do you mind if I stay a little bit, then I’ll get out of your hair?” Virgil asked. Oh god. Logan knew what was to follow and despite his best effort, it terrified him.
“That’d be fine, Virgil. Stay as long as you’d like.” Somehow, he’d gotten through that sentence without stumbling.
“Cool,” Virgil said, sitting down next to his still very deshelled friend. Logan made a mental note to groom his hair and take a shower once this ordeal was over. Logan ate his toast in silence, the seconds ticking by ever so slowly. After several minutes of silence, Virgil spoke up.
“Logan,” he began, turning to his friend with a frown etched onto his face. Logan gripped his empty plate tightly, swallowing the lump already forming in his throat. “I wanted to talk about last night.”
“Yes, I knew you w-would,” Logan said anxiously, setting his plate onto the coffee table and meeting Virgil’s gaze, “I owe you an explanation, a-and I want to start off with an apology. Virgil, I am so, so sorry.” Virgil bit back a sigh, shaking his head.
“No, L, you don’t need to be sorry. There’s nothing to apologize for.”
“B-but there is!” Logan's voice broke into a shout, rising to his feet and threading his hands through his hair. “I never meant to do this. I-I never meant to put all of this onto you, and truly, you have been far too kind. I…I don’t deserve it for the way I’ve treated you…” His words were dripping with self-loathing. Logan bit his lip, willing to not have a repeat of last night, this time sober. Virgil stood up beside him, eyes wide with sincerity.
“Logan, please, don’t say that. It hurts me when you talk like this. You haven’t put anything on me, and for the love of god, I haven’t been “too kind.” You’re my friend, you were in a time of need, so I did what I could to help you. Like friends do. You will always deserve to be treated decently, and you haven’t done me wrong. Y-you’ve been lost, a-and afraid, but that’s okay. I promise it’s fine.” Logan let out a defeated whimper as he looked to Virgil.
“I…I must admit, I’m waiting for you to come to your senses and figure out you’re better off w-without me. You’re intelligent, Virgil, I-I thought you would have gathered that by now,” Logan choked out. Virgil exhaled shakily, moving to grab his friend’s hand. He was trembling so hard. They both were.
“Listen to me,” Virgil said in a deep trembling voice, “You’re wrong. Y-you’re so fucking wrong. It’s going to be alright eventually, I know it will. We’ll be fine.”
“B-but –.”
“That’s right, we. As in both of us. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but your kind of stuck with me. I care way too much about you to walk away because of something like this. I…I know you want to call it quits and run away because you’re afraid, but I won’t let you.”
“V-Virgil…” Logan managed, already feeling the tears in his eyes, “I’m a mess. I-I’m broken, a-and I don’t think I can be f-fixed. I-I’m…incorrect.”
“Logan, I know you can be fixed. Maybe not right away,” he said seriously, squeezing Logan’s hand reassuringly, “but eventually, I'm sure of it. As for being a mess: so am I. We can be a mess together.” Logan’s face crumpled as he squeezed his eyes shut tight, taking in a faltering breath.
“Y-you don’t know how o-overjoyed that makes me. B-but…it still hurts. S-so much. I know I was drunk last night and – I’m s-sorry you had to see m-me that way – but w-what I said was true. V-Virgil…I’m in love with you a-and I…I just don’t think that I-I can-.”
“I love you too.” Logan opened his eyes suddenly, stumbling slightly as he stared at Virgil wide-eyed. His friend looked near tears himself, his cheeks dusted a deep crimson. He looked so relieved.
“Y-you…I don’t…”
“L, Jesus, I’ve been in love with you f-for fucking years and I-I just…wow. I mean, I know you told me last night, b-but you were drunk, and I couldn’t let myself believe it and…o-oh my god.”
“A-are you…are you being truthful. Please, tell me y-you aren’t trying t-to spare my feelings because I-I –.”
“God, of course, I’m telling the truth. I-I could never lie to you. Come here, look at me,” he instructed, moving to cup Logan’s face in his hand that was set ablaze, his heart beating a mile a minute. “Logan, I love you. So, s-so much. J-just…come here,” Virgil said, letting go of Logan’s hand and opening his arms. Logan paused a moment, sniffling and unsure before throwing himself into the safety of Virgil’s arms. He buried his face in the emo’s neck, clinging feverishly to him and feeling tears run from his eyes. He let out shallow, thankful breaths, holding Virgil as close as humanly possible. Normally human-touch wasn't Logan’s forte – but now he was desperate for it, in need, every inch they're apart feeling like a vast expanse. He just couldn’t believe it.
“I…I can’t believe this is real,” Logan muttered into Virgil’s neck, breathing in every detail of Virgil, never wanting to let it go.
“Me neither,” Virgil confirms, “and I never thought I’d get to hug you for this long. You’re just chock-full of surprises today, L.”
Logan, still shaken up by the onslaught of emotion but feeling a rare moment of bravery, pipes up, separating himself from Virgil. He already missed his warmth. His crying, for the most part, has ceased.
“Virgil…since we’ve had this emotional revelation…and well…I mean you don’t want to if you don’t have to b-but well…I’d like to – ugh, why do these things have to be so triflingly difficult?! Would you permit me to k-kiss you?” Virgil couldn’t help but laugh at his flustered friend, nodding with a grin.
“Ah, come here, nerd,” he said, running his hands through Logan’s hair as the genius cupped Virgil’s face in his hands and connected their lips. It wasn’t nearly perfect, not some razzle-dazzle spectacle. It was nervous and overanalyzed, and a first for the two, but that was what made it special. It was the first of many future kisses to come. It left Logan feeling dizzy – well, dizzier than he already did. He was still hungover, after all.
“God do I love you,” was the first thing Virgil said as he pulled away, still only inches from Logan. Both of them were bright red and trembling still.
“The feeling is mutual. Virgil, y-you don’t understand how l-long it’s been since I’ve f-felt this happy. Since an emotion has been u-understandable, and positive. You’re such a spectacle, you know that? I could look at you f-for hours if you’d let me. Shit. That sounded slightly disturbing. Sorry – was that disturbing?” Virgil shook his head, still smiling brightly.
“No way, your big geek. That was romantic as fuck. Who are you, Roman?” Logan grimaced, laughing softly.
“Very funny. So…uh…do you think since we’ve declared our love for each other and everything…well, what comes next?”
“I tell Pat and Ro that we’ve got some very exciting news to share with them?” Virgil asked, and Logan’s face reddened even more as he nodded in affirmation.
“That sounds wonderful.”
"Yeah?" Logan grinned.
"Yeah."
"That's...really cool. You're my boyfriend?" Logan leaned forward to capture Virgil's lips in a quick kiss.
"I'm your boyfriend," he breathed out.
"Your head still hurt?”
“Yes,” Logan said, sitting back down, “But I think you’ve been curing it. Stay here a while and we’ll see if it gets any better?” Virgil let out a content sigh as he curled himself into Logan’s lap, pressing a kiss to his cheek.
“You’re fucking precious, you know that?”
“Whatever…” Logan muttered, running a hand through his boyfriend's hair.
So, Logan wasn’t perfect. He was broken, riddled with insecurities, and dealt with a lot of conflicting emotions. He’d had a melt-down, one that he was sure would cost him a friendship but result in the blooming of a relationship. Virgil wasn’t perfect either, dealing with his own mess of problems. But together they were better. Together, Virgil and Logan could learn to fix each other, however long that would take. Neither of them had ever been so at ease.
=+=