Chapter Ten:
Logan was mumbling things loudly in his sleep. He was have a nightmare.
I knew the feeling.
I gulped down the remaining water and began to the door. I would just wake him up. I wouldn't be doing any harm, would I?
No, of course not.
I would want someone to wake me up, too.
I opened my door, slowly, trying to keep quiet. I tip toed down the hall towards Logan's room. The hall lights weren't on, but the hall was lighter then I expected. No one else seemed to be awake. At least, not now.
I reached Logan's door, and put my hand on the knob. I was scared to open it, well, nervous. Was I allowed to do this?
I opened the door, just as slowly as I had opened mine.
A light smell hit me, the smell of cigar smoke. It was just like what Logan smelt like. All his clothes must smell like this. A light aroma of smoke. It wasn't heavy or gross, but light and nice.
I walked over to Logan's bed, and he was stirring in his sleep. He was on top of the blankets, and he was shirtless. He was beautiful. Inside and out.
His face had almost no emotion. But, even in his mumbling, and stirring, he looked peaceful.
I touched his hot skin, he was sweating. He thrashed again. I decided that I had to wake him, right now.
He was still mumbling, and I couldn't understand what he was saying.
I grabbed his shoulder, and shook. I shook him harder, after receiving no response the first time.
"Logan,"
I sat down on the bed, and shook him, again.
"Logan," I said, a little louder, giving him one last good shake.
His eyes flew open, and he flew forward, screaming. I flinched at the loud noise. I heard his claws come out, and they came right at me.
And he stabbed me, right through the shoulder blades.