Disclaimer: I disclaim.
Title: In This Life- Part II
The first time he ever realized that he would do anything, and he meant anything for her was the first time she told him that her greatest fear in life was leaving this cruel, harsh world alone. The way her eyes spoke of all her untold fears, and shattered dreams was enough to rob his soul blind, and wish upon himself all the wrong she had ever been burdened with and bear it upon his own withering soul.
"You'll never be alone. Never. I'd never let you be alone, let alone die," he had told her without the slightest hesitation, his protective nature of her permeating through the air, as she soaked in every syllable he spoke. And she believed him, believed in him.
"Sometimes I feel like I'm suffocating, Logan," she tainted the air with her confession.
"I'd suffocate for you if it meant that you could breathe," the skin on her face felt smooth, creamy upon his faithless, calloused and bloodstained hands. He cupped her face, gently letting his fingers trace her delicate flesh. She closed her eyes tightly, savoring his gentle touch, reminding her just how good it was to feel, to want to feel again.
She couldn't hear the thoughts in her head through the beating of her own heart, and the desire that filled her core.
It wasn't the first time she would walk away from in the dark of the night and wish that he would offer to keep other side of her bed warm.
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"I'm sorry, Logan. I can't tonight," Georgie spoke through the cellular device hoping her apology would be enough.
"Why?" he asked clearly disappointed and confused. "We spend every Friday night together," he tried to respond casually.
"Not this Friday. Logan, I'm sorry. We'll hang out tomorrow. I promise, but I just can't tonight."
"Why not?"
"Because I have something I have to do," Georgie replied, her voice wearing her irritation less and less well.
"Like bail your sister out of the drunk tank?' Logan tried to joke, but it came out harsh and stiff.
"I have a date," she finally blurted out.
The dial tone on the other end of the line spoke for him.
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"How's Bobby?" he asked her at breakfast, his lack of distaste for her male companion evident.
"Billy, Logan. B-I-L-L-Y. His name is Billy."
Logan shrugged and bit a piece of the crispy bacon. She sat across from him, her arms crossed across her chest, which by the way he was not gawking at as it moved in sync with her breathing. In and out, up and down, in and out.
"What do you have against him? You've never even met the guy, yet you jump on the chance to insult him."
"Because, doll, I don't have to like him."
"I've only ever told you positive things about him, about what a good guy he is, but you just decide not to like someone you've never met. That is ludicrous. Quite ridiculous, Logan."
"You really want to know why I don't like him Georgie?!" Logan asked, slamming his hand in defeat on the table, causing her to jump a little. Logan scolded himself at his lack of tolerance for his own emotions. It wasn't supposed to go this far. He wasn't supposed to get this far in.
"Not if you're going to get mad at me," she whispered softly, her head turning away from him. "It's not worth it."
Logan sighed, and reached his hand under the table to grasp her fingers, and held them steady in his hands, his fingertips brushing of her skin..
"Your smile," Logan whispered almost as she had.
"What?" her eyes locked on his, trying to read him, and for the first time since they'd been friends she couldn't read him. Maybe it was because of the way his gorgeous blue eyes danced in sincerity and were glowing from something seemingly too familiar to her. Jealousy. No, she told herself. Logan Hayes would not be jealous at some guy over her, simple, book-worm, good little Georgie Jones. But she knew different. He brought out a different side of her, a side that wanted to kiss him like he was her least breathe. He gave her carnal, impure thoughts she had never thought before, or even dared to explore. So it would be nothing short of a lie to say that she wished, hoped he could be jealous. Because then, maybe just maybe, she wouldn't feel so guilty for wanting, for craving him, her best friend.
"You smile when you talk about him. But your eyes don't quite light up. And your beautiful smile doesn't quite reach your eyes. It's a small, placent smile. It's not like the one when you're with me. You don't smile at him like you do at me even when we're throwing popcorn at each other on our move night. And your eyes are a fire, Georgie. They burn and light up when we're together, and when I embarrass you or make you laugh, or call you doll. He doesn't do that to you. That's how I know he's not for you. Because he's not me!" Logan growled at the last four words.
His hands had tensed and were now grasping desperately at her small, delicate hands. Her slender fingers were trembling a little, and her breathing was a little heavier. Georgie's face had paled a little at his words, and they twisted and stabbed like a knife to her insides, slicing away at the stregnth she was using to keep it all together and convince herself that she only wanted him as a friend..
Little white lies had really become her best friend, and she tried to hide it well. But her resolve was crumbling and was leaving her in a pile of ashes to scattered in every which way. Georgie couldn't do it anymore. It was time to bend and hopefully not break. Somehow she thought she would do the bending and snap in half.
She quickly and hastily retracted her hands from him, as she stoop up and gathered her purse, as Logan sat there frozen, stoic and aware that he had all but confessed his love, no his lust-he told himself, for her.
"Georgie, I…I" for the first time in his life he stammered. He smelled the light scent of her perfume, delicate yet sensual, wash over him, and her hair was brushing the side of his face, the side of her bodying leaning over him, and he quickly wrapped his arm around her, palms on her waist, fingers kneading her flesh, his desire needed to know that she was real and was this close to him.
"You're right, Logan," she whispered in his ear, her painful desire could be heard through her quiet tears, and tormented on-coming confession. "He's not you. He could never be you. Because I could never love him," she choked out the last line, but the way she spoke the word love seemed to flow eloquently.
Before he could even blink Georgie was gone into the afternoon sun, and he knew some others would say he should have run after her, but that's not what she wanted. She knew him, knew him all to well. She knew that he didn't do love well, and he needed space and to think about what it would really mean for him to give him, all of him, up so willingly and freely. She was saying to him you can have it, but do you want it, even if it breaks my own heart.
But for the first time in his life, Logan didn't need to think. And for the first time since his youth he prayed to God and the Virgin Mary that he was doing the right thing.
End Part II
Hm, so what does Logan decide to do? I'll only tell if you hit that pretty little review button at the bottom. Thanks for reading!