Skating on the edge (slow burn) part seven
Pairing: John Logan x reader
Summary: Secretly learning to ice skate, partying with my friends, and having a huge crush on John—it was just bound to go wrong.
Parts: one,two,three,four,five,six, seven
I woke up blinking hard against the sunlight filtering through my curtains. Turning off the alarm blindly. I pulled the covers over my head planning on hiding from the world as long as possible. Last night was a train wreck. I didn't want to think about it but their faces kept flashing before my eyes. How can I get back from that?  Biting my lower lip softly I felt tears welling up in my eyes again. Wrapping myself in my blanket like it's a cocoon, ditching my classes of the day and ignoring any form of contact I was effectively avoiding everything and anyone. I had spent the whole morning in bed, not moving an inch, just blankly staring at nothing. Wallowing in self-pity won't undo what's happened. Sitting up reluctantly I pulled my knees up to my chest, hugging them tightly. How I hated my inner voice. Always pushing, always blunt, never reassuring or god forbit soothing. Scoffing, I looked straight ahead, gaze catching the pictures on the wall. There was one of Beau and me when we got accepted to Briar, beaming from ear to ear. One of the Boys and me after they won their first hockey game together. A small involuntary half smile appeared on my face. A picture of Dean and Beau throwing me into the pool, it was snapped mid fly, my face contorted in pure shock. Polaroids from the fashion show I had with Hannah and Allie, wearing the most ridiculous outfits imaginable. It had felt like a montage of a teen movie, dressing up for fun and posing like we were models. In between, the graduation pictures from high school, my parents at my side. The smile slowly faded away. Feeling my throat closing up, I tore my gaze away from the picture. Big girls don’t cry. I could picture him perfectly, standing imposing, eyes demanding me to be sturdy. Voice ordering me to be strong. I never was tough enough. Licking my lips I bit down hard. Look at me now, basking in melancholy like it would do me any good. Pathetic.
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It was late afternoon when I had managed to at least take a shower and move to my deskchair. Peering out the window I watched the people walking around campus, talking, laughing, some rushing, others lazily sitting down on the grass. It was quite peaceful observing the world from the safe space of my room. The peace was disturbed by a soft thud at the door. I could ignore it but there was the possibility of my roommate having locked herself out. Debating with myself I heard another thud. Begrudgingly I went to the door. Opening it i sawÂ
Dean in front of my dorm room. Moving on instinct I pushed the door in his direction. As I went to shut it in his face he forced his foot in between.
 “Wait, I come in Peace. “
“Go away.”
"Y/N, please."
“I don't want your pity.”
“I didn't come to pity you, I swear. I just wanted to make sure you're okay, give you some comfort if you let me.”Â
The devastating honesty in his eyes pulled at my fragile heartstrings. Losing the hostile tone in my voice I told him that I didn't want his comfort. Noticing me caving he pressed again, careful not to push to fare.Â
“Can I please come in for a bit?”
“Dont make me regret this.”Â
We sat awkwardly on the couch in the livingroom, both not sure how to proceed from there. “I won't ask if you're okay, that would be dumb.” He muttered lowly. It was unusual for Dean to be this quiet. “Good to see there are still a few working brain cells up there." I stated dryly. The corners of his mouth twitch in amusement. “I am sorry for prying that confession out of you.” Swallowing hard, I clenched my fist. “You should be.” He looked at me, regret clear in his eyes. “I should have listened to you, but when I saw your tears something in me broke.” His voice cracked slightly at the end. Glancing at his side profile, I saw how his jaw flexed, eyes downcast. He was still bothered by this. It's like he really cares. “I know that you did what you thought was right, that's the problem. You ignored what I had to say, mind having already decided what the truth was and how to solve it.” I was playing with the drawstrings on my hoodie, avoiding eye contact. He hummed in acknowledgment. “You forced me to relive this painful memory.” I frowned, suddenly feeling the urge to vindicate myself. “It was humiliating. It was none of your Business.” His hand tentatively touched mine, giving it a squeeze as if to say I am here, let it out. Glaring at the vase on the coffee table I continued my rant, temper rising. “I was this close to Re Establishing the easy going way Logan and I interacted with before. But you lot kept bugging and intruding. Monitoring every damned breath I took, turning this into something completely different.” Gripping his hand harder I took a deep breath, calming myself. He didn't say anything, just held my hand and sat in silence with me. Slowly his thumb rubbed soothing circles on my hand. Breaking the silence he turned fully to face me. “You’re like my little sister, I just want to keep you safe. I am deeply sorry for the way I did it but I don't regret stepping up for you.” I didn't have any siblings growing up. I couldn't possibly understand what it felt like but I wanted to believe that what I felt in that moment was close to it. I was still mad at him, but having here with me felt good. I enjoyed his company even though he made me furious. Granting him a crooked smile I whispered “You're like the brother I never wanted.” Dean laughed, a grateful smile on his face showing his dimples. He carefully pulled me into his arms. My head settled against his chest, his chin on top of it. “Thank you Ducky.” “Mm, you're not forgiven just yet.” “I know, but it's a start.” Pulling away I had a teasing smile on my face. “Who knew Dean Di Laurentis is such a softie." Pretending to be offended he clutched his chest. “I am not a softie.” “Sure, buddy.” Chuckling lightly, I felt a tad lighter now. Face turning uncomfortable again Dean scratched his neck “At the risk of upsetting you again-.” I narrowed my eyes suspiciously.Â
“You should talk with Beau.”
“No.”
“He is devastated. Just give him a chance to explain himself like me.”
“This is different, Dean.” I scooted farther away from him, pulling my knees up.
“You two are basically inseparable. There's no Beau without You.” He was pleading with me.Â
“Yeah, we were. That's why this stings so much worse.” I paused, looking at Dean, like really looking at him to make him understand.
”He is the person I trusted the most.”
“He wanted to help.”Â
“Oh yeah? By spreading rumors about my alleged sexlife?” I snapped, voice breaking at the end. Turning away, the corners of my mouth tugged down on their own. Letting my anger at Beau out on Dean was wrong but it was so easy to get lost in the red haze. “I don't want to fight.” I sighed defeated. “I will talk with Beau when I am ready, he has to wait however long that will take.” Hearing the finality in my voice he nodded somberly. He didn't say anything after that but I could basically feel his nerves. He clearly wanted to say something else but was too afraid of ruining this little peaceful quiet again. Â
“Spit it out.”
“What?”
“Come one, you clearly have something on your mind.”
"I am afraid it will upset you.” He sounded so sincere, my heart clenched in my chest.Â
“Nothing new these days.” At my cynical replay Dean faltered. “Just say it okay?” I softened my voice, encouraging him to speak his mind. Taking a deep breath he steeled his nerves.
“I know your love life is none of my business, but you and Logan-” My hand clamped over his lips before he could continue. I felt a deep ache in my chest. “I believe it's clear that there is no Logan and I.” Laughing humorlessly I bit my lower lip "I am not even sure if we're still friends.” Even though I tried to hide the pain inside my voice Dean obviously caught one to the underlying sadness. His blue eyes filled with sympathy. Delicately wrapping his fingers around my wrist he tugged my hand away. “I have no idea what's exactly going on between you two but he cares about you.” It seemed to cost him to say this. I just humed. Not so sure he still cares. “Well, it was surprisingly nice to see you but I would like to be alone again.” The corners of my mouth twitch upwards in a fleeting, gentle curve. “Okay, but if you don't want to be alone anymore give me a call okay? I will be there.” Dean genuinely cared. “I will. Thank you Deano.” Cringing at the nickname he ruffled my hair. “Always Ducky.”
The talk with Dean was weirdly helpful. It didn't erase what happened but it served to drag me out of my hole. It was dark outside when I was weighing the pros and the cons and decided to turn my phone back on again. One day of hiding in my room and skipping classes was manageable but I had to get a grip if I didn't want to fail this semester. Once my phone was on again I was bombarded with messages and missed calls. None from Logan. It shouldn't have hurt like it did. I had already dreaded that he would simply withdraw himself ....its something he was quite good at. Running from problems. Like your one to talk. Swiping all of the messages to the side I saw one from my father. It was as if time had stopped. I stared in disbelief at his name over the message. He hadn't tried to reach out since… . Swallowing, I contemplated simply ignoring it but some buried part in me couldn't. Finger hovering over the display, I froze. Hear hammering loudly. It's only a stupid message. Who cares, it's not going to be important. Clicking my eyes flittered over the screen. I huffed, lips quivering. What did you expect? You naive, stupid, little girl. I pressed my lips into a tight, thin line. Feeling a storm of emotions raging inside me, I decided to grab my skates. Make use of the storm on the ice.
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The rink was empty when I entered, practice having ended nearly two hours ago. Tightening my skates hazardously my brain was running a mile a minute. I was suddenly so full of adrenalin. It was like electricity pumping through my veins and the only way to work through this sudden spike was pushing my body till it collapsed. Tightening the lacing of my skate I flexed my jaw. Every muscle in my body was tight. I left my jacket and scarf on the bench, hoping the cold would help ground me.Â
After the initial wobbly steps, I regained my balance way quicker than a week ago. Putting one foot in front of the other, pushing my body forward, I gained some speed. Finishing my third round without falling I forced my legs to push harder against the ice. You're too sensitive. You are too clumsy. You need to overcome your inability. Gliding over the ice, face contorted in bitterness I went even faster. I did this. I made it on my own. I am not a quitter. Harder. Faster. Leaning my upper body forward, I surged over the frozen ground like I had never done anything else in my life. For a glorious second I felt like flying. Felt free skating over the ice till I really went flying. Holy shit. Barreling head first into the boards at maximum speed. With a loud thud I collapse against the wall, sinking down. After an initial moment of lightheadedness my head started pounding like a bitch. Tears pricking at my eyes. Deep breath. It's fine, you're okay. Just a little headache. I tried to reason with myself. I sat on the cold floor, breathing shallow, wetness and cold seeping into my legging. All of the sudden I felt something warm on my skin, sliding down my temple. Tenderly touching my forehead, I touched something wet. Lowering my hand, I slowly blinked, there was blood on my fingertips. Where's this coming from? My mind was hazy trying to make sense of this. Gaze darting from my fingers to boards behind me. I saw a little splash of red on the boards. Oh. It finally clicked. The confusion turned into irritation. Just my luck to barrel head first into the boards like a total idiot. Great Y/N. Really impressive.Â
As my head stopped spinning I carefully tried to push myself up again without faceplanting on the ice. “Slow and steady.” I told myself, stretching my arms outwards to keep my balance. Still a bit dizzy, I deliberately moved to the exit. When I looked up i suddenly saw Logan appear in the tunnel. Maybe I hit my head harder than I thought. He scanned my face and started sprinting my way when he registered the blood on my forehead. “What happened?” He stepped in the rink without a second thought being at my side in three long strides. Even without skates he was still annoyingly smooth on the ice. John's warm hands on my face felt so real. I stared dreamily at his concerned face, my mind still trying to catch up. It should be illegal being this handsome. His arm snaked around my waist, stabilizing me as he slowly moved me to the exit. Once I had solid ground under my feet again my knees buckled. “Whoa, easy.” John helped me sit down carefully. His hands were on my face again as he was kneeling before me. “How bad does it hurt?” He sounded so worried. I didn't want him to worry his pretty little head about me. "Don't worry baby.” He momentarily stilled. I grind doppily before I registered what I had said. Not again. Let my head fall back against the boards in frustration I regretted it instantly . “Ouch.” I petted the back of my head, nose wrinkled in pain.Â
John took a second to just stare at me before he refocused. Voice a little husky as he told me to show him where it hurt. A bit ashamed I pointed at the top of my head. “Right here.” Logan came closer to inspect my head, fingers tenderly brushing my hair to the side. His chest was in front of my face, chain dangling before my eyes. Unable to control myself I took a whiff. He smelled of mint, probably his shower gel and something distinctly John underneath. When he pulled back down to crouch in front of me, my cheeks were tinted red. Luckily he didn't comment on it. “There is a gash, seems like you hit your head pretty hard.” I started to nod before abruptly stopping as the pounding behind my temple got even worse. “Took a dive for the boards, but don't tell anyone.” Ignoring me he hooked his arm under my knee and wrapped the other around my back. “Whoa.” I protested, fingers digging into his shirt. "It's not that a big cut but we should probably let it get looked at.” We? He carefully lifted me into his arms, mindful to not jostle my head too much. “Are you dizzy or sick?” John carried me out to his truck, pressing me gently against his chest. “Yes.” He raised a brow. "Which one?” “Both.” Holding me with one hand he opened the door of his truck. Logan placed me cautiously on the seat, leaning over me to fasten the seatbelt. He jogged around the car opening his own door and immediately started the motor. “Thank you. But you don't have to do this.” His eyes drifted to me momentarily before refocusing on the street. “You can't believe I would leave you on your own with what's possibly a concussion?” His grip on the steering wheel tightened. “I wasn't even sure if you would still speak with me at this point.” I mumbled, eyes dropping. John didn't say anything for a moment. When he spoke again his voice sounded rough. “You drove me insane this past week.” I pulled my bottom lip between my teeth, gnawing lightly. “But I can't imagine never speaking to you again.” He grew quieter at the end, softer. A warm feeling of hope blossomed inside me. Maybe he does care.
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