Logan pulled the covers over Kendall's sleeping form right up to the blonde's strong jaw line, taking special care to wrap it around as tight as possible to stop the shivers running through the boy. With a frown, he noted the wet lines under the blonde's closed eyes.
"Sleep tight. Don't let the bedbugs bite," the smart boy whispered. It was something his mother had always said to him before bedtime when he was a boy. The simple phrase had never failed to keep the monsters away from him so he only hoped it would do the same for Kendall.
Kendall had enough demons inside him already.
"He hates me, Logan." A sigh passed Logan's lips as he remembered the blonde's pitiful whimpers. "He hates me! I deserve it… I hate me, too."
"No one hates you, Kendall. We all love you—all of us, Carlos, Katie, me, and James. We all love you. Camille loves you, too, and Jo, well, she's crazy about you."
Logan smiled at him, but for some reason lost on the brunette, Kendall's eyes widened (the self-loathing obviously clear in the depths of emerald) and more tears fell down his already wet, tear-stained face. "Everyone should hate me. I'm an asshole." Another whine came from his sore throat. "It's all my f-fault."
Logan didn't know what to say. He didn't even know what had happened between the blonde and James. All he knew was that Kendall needed him right now, so he laid the boy back into his bed and said, "Kendall, go to sleep. When you wake up, it'll be better. Trust me."
Logan groaned, putting his head in his hands. He only lifted his head when he felt another weight on his shoulder, peaking over to see his Latino friend's brown eyes watching him and a pout on his lips. "Hey, Carlos," he greeted tiredly.
"When will the bad stuff be over?" the smaller boy asked, ignoring the greeting.
Logan guessed Carlos had an equally hard time with comforting James than he had with Kendall. "I don't know, Carlitos. Hopefully, soon." Another sigh. "Do you know what happened between them?"
"No, James wouldn't tell me anything!" Carlos buried his head further into the smart boy's pleated sweater vest. Logan had to strain his ears to make out the mutter that followed, "I hate this."
The brunette wrapped his right arm around the distraught boy, using his long fingers to rub gentle circles through Carlos' hoodie. A small smile—the first he'd had in the long night—spread his lips when Carlos melted into the gesture.
"You finally going to get with Carlos?" James' voice called out in his mind.
Unconsciously, his arm tightened his hold on the boy as he thought it over. So maybe he did have a small, tiny, little, microscopic crush on the Latino, but it didn't matter 'cause they were just friends, and he was completely fine with that. Like, it was awesome to be friends! Totally cool with that, yes siree.
"You're warm, Logie," Carlos whispered as his eyes drooped lazily. It was a matter of seconds before he fell asleep on the comfy, warm shoulder he was resting on, his breaths coming out in small puffs out of his slightly parted lips and against Logan's neck.
The simple gesture brought a streak of red across Logan's pale cheeks and a handful of butterflies fluttered wildly in his stomach. Without even knowing he was doing it, Logan calmed his own breathing until the pace of his chest rising and falling matched the Latino's flawlessly.
"You finally going to get with Carlos?"
I wish, Logan thought, laying his own head on Carlos'. I wish.
"Are you going to tell me what happened?" Logan asked, leaning against the wooden door frame of Carlos' and James' shared room, eyes locked on the big lump on one of the beds beneath the blue covers. There was a pause. "James, I know you're not sleeping."
No response.
Logan sighed in irritation. This was a total déjà vu in the worst way possible; why did everyone ignore him! He walked over to the bed, ready to pull the covers off and scold James for being so ugggh, but he stopped when he heard the mutterings.
"Thoughts of you…" The voice was bitter and angry, but also tired like the feelings were too much for whoever it was. "On my mind… Have a good day…"
Logan, ever so confused and hating the unfamiliar notion, quickly pulled the covers off of James' balled up body to find the boy hunched over a small 3x4 inch card, hazel eyes glued to it and mouth constantly moving.
"James…?"
If the pretty boy heard him or even noticed his presence, he didn't show it. "As sweet as a honeysuckle… I'll pollinate you, ick," he let out a scoff of disgust. "Love, Jett…" Suddenly, he looked up at Logan fiercely, pushing the small card to the smaller boy's chest with a force entirely too hard. "Do you see this bullshit? Love."
Bringing the white card up to his eyes, Logan slowly read through the small message. And then he read it again and again, his mouth dropping open. Jett? What did I miss? So he asked, "Jett? What did I miss?"
"Kendall's fucking Jett." That sentence had passed though the pretty boy's lips so many times, it was mechanical now, his face going blank. Without the anger etched on his face, Logan could clearly see the bags beneath James' hazel eyes and the boy's normally glowing, tan skin looking just plain exhausted. He wondered in the back of his mind how much sleep he'd gotten in the night.
In the front of his mind, all he could think was WHAT? "Kendall… and J-Jett?" It didn't make sense so Logan couldn't understand it. "How? Wh-when? What?"
A bitter chuckle emitted from James' throat. "Well, he sticks his dick in that asshole's asshole. That's why he's always ditching us nowadays."
Logan said nothing because there was nothing he could say. Nothing was going to take back the things Kendall had did—at least, nothing Logan could do—and nothing the smart boy could do would fix this, but he still had to try.
So he sat down on the bed, the mattress sinking beneath his weight, and wrapped his arms around James who immediately sagged into the embrace, his body slightly shaking as he finally let himself brake down.
"Logan," James choked out, his voice braking on the second syllable, "I still l-love him." A violent sob racked through his body, and he brought his large hands up to grasp desperately at the back of Logan's shirt. "What d-do I do now?"
"Get some sleep," was Logan's simple answer because there wasn't anything else to say. "And don't let the bedbugs bite."
Surprised ya, didn't I? You all thought this would be a James chapter, but it's not :O Hope you all enjoyed, anyway, though :)
