Hard Head

This is the worst thing I have ever written. I swear it is. This is what happens when you write without inspiration. 126 words. Yay. Not really.

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Logan POV

I open the apartment door and a little breeze tugs at my clothes. There's a sharp glint of black, and a masculine pine smell. A few seconds later, I heard a distant thud followed by a muffled ouch. It's three in the morning. I think a giant beetle may have evolved and learned how to speak. Upon closer inspection, I think Carlos may be Wall Running*. After I ask him if he was alright (he is) we went back to our room. He said he realized something but thought he was dreaming and would forget when he woke up. When I asked him what it was he pressed his lips to mine.

It's three in the morning. I am kissing Carlos Garcia. I think I'm dreaming.

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*I did not make that up. Wall Running is from the story Chocolate Covered Boxer Briefs on fictionpress. I recommend that you check it out. ^^