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It was a rare quiet day in the apartment, save for the gentle hum of the television and the soft click of Blind Al’s knitting needles. Logan had gone out—probably to brood on a rooftop somewhere or take a long walk to be alone with his grumpiness. That left Wade and Blind Al to themselves. Normally, Wade would be bouncing around, trying to fill the silence with some kind of nonsense. But today, Wade was unusually... focused.
He paced around the living room, glancing at the door every few minutes like a puppy waiting for its owner to return. Blind Al, sitting comfortably on the well-worn couch, didn’t need to see to know what was happening. She knew exactly what this was about.
“Wade, if you’re going to spend the whole afternoon staring at the door like that, why don’t you just go after him?” she asked, her voice laced with dry sarcasm.
Wade froze mid-pace, his eyes widening slightly. “W-What? No, I’m not waiting for Logan,” he said quickly, his voice rising an octave in a way that only made it more obvious. “I’m just, y’know… thinking. Deep thoughts. Like… philosophy. The meaning of life and stuff.”
Al snorted. “Sure. And the fact that you’ve mentioned Logan’s name at least ten times in the last half hour has nothing to do with it, right?”
Wade huffed, flopping down onto the couch next to her. “Okay, fine! Maybe I’ve thought about him once or twice today. Big deal. He’s only the most brooding, broody man I’ve ever met! He’s like, a walking shadow with claws. Like, you know how some guys just ooze cool without trying? That’s Logan. He doesn’t even have to say anything, and I’m over here feeling like a mess of scar tissue and chimichangas.”
Blind Al raised an eyebrow beneath her sunglasses. “Yeah, you’re really subtle about it.”
Wade leaned forward, tapping his fingers together, a grin slowly spreading across his face. “I mean, have you seen him? Like, really looked at him? That whole ‘I’m too angry for feelings’ vibe? It’s hot, Al. I’m talking ridiculously, stupidly hot. Like... just the way he walks, y’know? That confident stride, like he’s always ready to fight someone, but also like he’s kinda tired of everyone’s bullshit. It’s chef’s kiss perfection.”
Al didn’t respond, letting Wade dig his own grave as she listened, her knitting never slowing.
“And that body! God. The muscles, Al. He’s got muscles for days. It’s like his arms are carved out of granite. His back? Don’t even get me started. And when he gets annoyed and flexes a little, it’s like a beautiful sculpture of rage. All those veins popping out, like ‘grr, I’m mad but also built like a god.’”
Wade waved his hands dramatically as if trying to physically illustrate how Logan looked in his mind. “And his claws! You’d think the claws would make him less attractive, but nah. They just add to the whole ‘bad boy with a dangerous edge’ thing. It’s like he’s giving off these silent ‘I could kill you but also maybe I won’t’ vibes, and that’s... that’s just wow. Plus, he growls. Like, growls when he’s frustrated. Al, you cannot tell me that’s not sexy.”
Al let out a hum in response, clearly amused.
“And those hands—have you noticed his hands? Big, rough, calloused from all the claw-popping and slashing. You just know they could—” Wade paused dramatically, rolling onto his stomach, eyes wide with exaggerated excitement. “—lift me. Just, like, pick me up like I weigh nothing. And I’d be cool with it, you know? Totally casual. I’d be like, ‘Hey, Logan, what’s up?’ while he just throws me over his shoulder like a heroic lumberjack.”
“Don't forget his hair, either.” Wade continued, not noticing the smug expression growing on Al’s face. “Like, I know it’s not supposed to be attractive. It’s all pointy and wild like he’s constantly in a wind tunnel, but somehow he makes it work. You look at it and think, ‘Yeah, this guy doesn’t care about societal norms like combs or hair products,’ but you just know it’s soft. Like, I bet if I ran my hands through it, it would—”
“Wade.”
Wade stopped, blinking as if coming out of a trance. “Yeah?”
Blind Al turned slightly toward him, her knitting needles finally pausing. “Do you hear yourself?”
“Uh... no? What’d I say?”
Al shook her head, clearly holding back a laugh. “You just gave me a detailed, borderline inappropriate description of Logan, and you want me to believe this is just casual observation?”
Wade opened his mouth to protest but snapped it shut. He let out a long, exasperated sigh and threw his head back against the couch. “Okay, fine! I might have a tiny, itty-bitty crush on him. Like, a microscopic crush. Nothing major. Just a casual, lowkey... oh, who am I kidding?”
Al smirked again. “You’ve been pining over him since day one. Honestly, it’s embarrassing to watch.”
Wade groaned, pulling a pillow over his face. “I know! I can’t help it, okay? He’s all broody and mysterious and has that whole ‘I’ve seen too much’ vibe. It’s attractive! And don’t even get me started on that gravelly voice. It’s like he’s got a chainsaw lodged in his throat, but in a sexy way.”
Al made a noise in amusement. “There’s no way to say that without sounding ridiculous.”
“I’m ridiculous all the time! This is just... more ridiculous than usual. But come on, Al. It’s Logan. You get it, right? You can’t tell me he doesn’t have that rugged ‘I’ve seen too much death, but I might care about you’ thing going on.”
Al’s smirk didn’t falter, but her tone softened, just a touch. “Wade, I get it. Believe me. You’re not exactly subtle about the whole thing. But, you know, there’s a difference between pining and making a fool of yourself. You’re not really the ‘pining quietly’ type.”
Wade peeked out from under the pillow. “What’s your point, Al?”
“My point,” she said, putting her knitting down and leaning back, “is that Logan’s not the blind one here. He’ll figure it out. And when he does, you’ll either have to own up to it, or you’re going to keep babbling about his muscles to me for the next several weeks.”
Wade grimaced. “You think he knows?”
Al shrugged. “Not yet, but he’s not an idiot. And even if he were, you’d probably tell him by accident the next time you get flustered.”
Wade sighed dramatically, dragging the pillow off his face and sitting up again. “I mean, what if I just... didn’t? Like, what if I never told him? Couldn’t we all just... pretend I don’t have this massive, illogical crush and go on with our lives?”
“You? Keep a secret?” Al asked. “Not happening.”
Wade groaned again, slumping back against the couch, clearly defeated. “Yeah, you’re probably right. I suck at secrets. They just kinda spill out. Like the time I accidentally told you where I hid the last box of chocolate chip cookies.”
“Exactly,” Al said, smirking. “So, you’ve got two options. You either keep making those weird heart-eyes at Logan until he puts two and two together, or you say something. Either way, it’s going to be entertaining for me.”
Wade pouted. “Great. That’s what I needed—more pressure.”
Al grinned. “Hey, I’ve gotta get my entertainment somewhere. If watching you try to flirt with Logan is part of the package, I’ll take it.”
Wade looked back at the door, his thoughts clearly lingering on Logan. He chewed his lip thoughtfully, then glanced at Al. “What if... hypothetically, I did say something. Do you think he’d laugh at me?”
Al didn’t miss a beat. “No, but he’d probably grunt. A lot.”
Wade chuckled despite himself. “Yeah, that sounds about right.”
The two fell into a comfortable silence for a moment, with Wade still watching the door as if Logan might walk through it at any second. Finally, Blind Al broke the quiet with her usual bluntness.
“Wade?”
“Yeah?”
“For the love of God, just stop with the shirtless descriptions. I can only handle so much.”
“No promises, Al. No promises.”