"It's been way too long, Ronnie."
Years, filled with your life and if you screwed it up yet, felt like seconds until I saw him.
(the years apart showing on his face and in his smile)
"Way too long, Logan."
Old age filled with gray hairs and wrinkles was far off but we were so different then the children we once were.
(the bloodshed and lives ruined were far behind us)
I could tell with only a single glance that all those nasty rumors of celebrities son heading down the wrong side of the track were very much true.
Whispers of drugs and drinks would float past my ears every month up until I found myself at his doorstep.
('just though I'd see if you were dead yet, thankfully you're very much alive')
"God, Logan, what did you do to yourself?"
It was like second nature how his hand fit my own, how our eyes always found each others and but of course there were our lips.
Those two body parts that met whenever they were able to but always ending with a whole lot of yelling coming out of them.
(third times a charm)
"As you can clearly see I've done a hell of a job falling apart."
We only had our hands linked together so far, these small things that have met some many times before, the badge on my belt forbidding me to go any further.
(FBI newbie locking hands with a drug dealer, who could of thought?)
"Isn't this funny, the world always loves keeping us apart doesn't it?"
Before I was the outsider and he apart of the popular crowd, here we are all over again.
"It sure does, but don't we always defy it?"
Those familiar lips of his, that I've had time and time again, found mine like they've been starving for them all of these lost years.
"It's the only thing we were ever good at, Ronnie, being bad."