i hope you think of me when you see him Ū¶ā¢ą§
ā ā ā ā ā ā ā ā ā ā ā ā ā

blake kathryn
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
Jules of Nature
Peter Solarz

if i look back, i am lost
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH

Product Placement
Cosmic Funnies
d e v o n

titsay
One Nice Bug Per Day
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
Acquired Stardust

Kaledo Art
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
Keni
occasionally subtle
I'd rather be in outer space šø
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@wolverinesprincess
i hope you think of me when you see him Ū¶ā¢ą§
ā ā ā ā ā ā ā ā ā ā ā ā ā

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ššššš ššššššš š šššššššš!šššššš
Youāre the kind of person who hums while waiting for your coffee to brew. Who waves at dogs and thanks the bus driver twice. Who wears colors like the world hasnāt already tried to dim you.
Logan doesnāt get it. Not at first.
He watches you from across the compound with the same narrowed stare he gives to suspicious strangers and people who talk too much. And oh you talk. Constantly.
āMorning, Logan!ā you beam every time you pass him.
āMm.ā Thatās all he ever gives you.
But you never stop.
And eventually, neither does he.
You start bringing him coffee. Just set it down next to him without a word while heās sharpening his blades or reading the paper like itās 1953. He grunts the first time. Then starts nodding. Then one dayā
āThanks.ā
You almost miss it. Itās quiet. Grumbly. Like the word fought its way out of his throat. You grin so wide he swears it blinds him.
āNo problem, sunshine.ā
He glares. You laugh.
Everyone sees it. The way you trail after him like a happy shadow, and the way he lets you. The way you chatter about your day while he listens with crossed arms and unreadable eyes. The way you sneak flowers into his room and he pretends not to noticeābut the vase stays full.
Logan doesnāt say much. But he knows when youāve had a bad day just from the way your voice changes. He starts carrying gum in his pocket because he remembers you chew it when you're anxious. He doesnāt mention it. Just hands it to you when you need it.
He notices everything.
And one night, when you're sitting on the roof, swinging your legs and talking about stars, he finally speaks.
āYou calm the noise,ā he says quietly.
You tilt your head. āIām not exactly quiet, you know.ā
He gives a small smirk. āYou are to me.ā Then, softer, like a truth he didnāt mean to say out loud: āWhen youāre around, everything else stops shouting.ā
Youāre quiet for a second. Then smile. āYouāre kind of sweet under all that grump.ā
He glares. You nudge his arm.
āI like you too, you know,ā you say. āEven if you act like I annoy the hell out of you.ā
He looks at you then, really looks. And thereās something soft in his eyes that wasnāt there before.
āYou do,ā he says.
You laugh.
He lets himself smile.
Just a little.
anywaysss I wanna be held in Loganās big strong arms as he picks me up like a kitten to take me to the kitchen so he can make me hot chocolate and tell me to stop being a brat.
š¤ ā mission: pads and patience
pairing - eddie alden ft. fem!reader
summary - what happens when you ask eddie to buy your pads during the red month?
contents - fluff, period talking, suggestive, dramatic eddie, playful banters, established relationship.
words count - Ā 1493 words
zayn's note - heii guys!! sorry for not posting regularly. I just finished my final exams and yippee I'm glad to be back!! hope you guys will enjoy this and more fics will come soon!! <3
Eddie Alden wasn't supposed to be the kind of man who settles down.
He was the punchline to half of your stories. You've heard the storiesāhell, you knew some of the firsthand when you two were just workmates. He was the man your coworkers warned you about: silver-tongued, the coworker who never turned down a party, always five seconds from convincing someone into bed. The man who gave advice no one should follow and got away with it because he looked like that and smiled like sin.
But somewhere along the lineāmaybe during one of those late nights when you were both tipsy and tired of pretendingāEddie stopped looking at other people the way he looked at you.
And he never looked back.
He's still dramatic. Still flirty. Still hopelessly, Eddie. But the late-night phone calls are only ever for you now. His toothbrush lives beside yours. And when he makes coffee in the morning, he doesn't even ask anymoreāhe just adds a splash of vanilla creamer, two sugars, and kisses your shoulder as he hands it to you.
The infamous womanizer Eddie Alden is someone's else.Ā
Rain taps gently at the window as you lie curled up on the couch, wrapped in your thickest blanket. A heating pad hums on your stomach, the cramps coming in steady waves. You've given up trying to move. Even scrolling on your phone feels like too much.
Then, your screen lights up.
Eddie: On my way home. Need anything, gorgeous?
You smile, even through the discomfort. Your uterus is staging a mutiny and the pad stash under the sink is depressingly empty.
You type back: Can you grab some pads? Overnight ones with wings pls :3
Three dots bubble on the screen and you could swear it takes him only THREE seconds to reply.
Eddie: OH NO. THAT MEANS WE CAN'T FUCK?!
You choke out a laugh so hard you nearly dislodge the heating pad. Immediately, you hit the call button.
He picks up on the first ring with a gasp. āSweetheart,ā he says, like he's delivering a eulogy. āSay it aināt so.ā
āHi to you too,ā you say, already laughing.
āTell me I misread that text. Say it was a typo. Say you meant āpeach wineā and autocorrect betrayed us.ā
āI meant pads.ā
He groans. āI had plans tonight. And not just plans, babe. Schemes. Elaborate, x-rated choreography. And now⦠ruined.ā
āThey were never confirmed plans,ā you say through your giggles.
āThey were spiritual plans,ā he argues, āplans of the soul. I was going to light candles, touch your thighs like a gentleman, and do that thing with my tongueāā
āEddie!ā
āāand now, because of your cruel and vengeful uterus, I must live in sorrow. And buy pads.ā
You press your face into the pillow, shaking with laughter. The fact that you could actually imagine his reaction through the phone call is hilarious.Ā
āDo you know what it's like to walk into the feminine hygiene aisle with an erection and a broken heart? I'm a man on the edge.ā
āYou're a man getting pads for his girlfriend. Be brave. Plus, I'm not dying, you know,ā you say once you can breathe again. āIt's just my period.ā
āExactly!ā he replies. āIt's the just that hurts the most.ā
You groan playfully.
A pause. Then his voice softens just a little. āThe same purple pack, right? Overnight. Wings.ā
āYeah,ā you say. āThanks, baby.āĀ
You're still smiling long after the call ends. The cramps are annoying, your body is betraying you, and the weather sucksābut Eddie's coming home. With pads. And probably way too many snacks.
That's enough.
You must doze off, because the next thing you hear is the soft clicks of the front door and the familiar sound of Eddie kicking his boots.
āSleeping Beauty,ā he calls, voice low and fond. āYour knight returns. Armed with provisions.ā
You stir, blinking blearily, as he steps into the living room with the dramatic flair of a man who has never entered quietly in his life. Rain clings to his jacket, and his hair is damp, pushed back like he just stepped out of a rom-com poster.
He pulls out the purple pack like he's unsheathing Excalibur. āTa-da!ā
You squint at the package. āYou really got the right ones?ā
āDo you doubt me?ā he asks, mock-offended. āI walked into that aisle with the confidence of a man who once had a threesome in the office stairwell and came out reborn as your humble pad-bearer.ā
You laugh but your arms are already stretching open. It's automatic nowāwhenever Eddie's around, you want him close. Touch is like oxygen these days.
He notices. Of course he does.
āOhhh, look at that,ā he says, pointing with dramatic flair. āCling activated. Look at you. Just a little puddle of neediness.ā
āShut up and hug me.ā
āNeedy,ā he whispers, shaking his head like you've disappointed him deeply. āDesperate. Pathetic.ā
But he's already walking over. Already dropping the bag on the floor and crouching down to your level. He slides an arm around your waist and pulls you in like he was born for itālike every cell in his body exists just to do this.
His scent hits you instantly. Rain. Leather. The lingering trace of his cologne.
āGod, you're cold,ā you murmur against his shoulder.
āGod, you're clingy,ā he retorts, but his hand is already at the back of your head, cradling it like he's soothing something fragile.
āYou love it.ā
āI do,ā he admits easily. āSick little koala.ā
You breathe him in. He holds you tighter and neither of you moves for a while.
A soft, tired sigh leaves your lips. āUgh, my stomach's killing me.ā
Immediately, Eddie's hand rubs slow, calming circles against your back.
āI know, baby,ā he says, quieter now. āI got you. We're gonna make it better, alright?ā
His voice is warm and low, almost reverent. He presses a kiss to the top of your head and stays for a long beat before whispering, āStay here. I'm getting your chamomile tea and snacks.ā
Then he disappears into the kitchen.
You hear rustling, the fridge opening, and the kettle clicking on. When he returns, it's with a mug of chamomile tea, a snack bag full of chocolate, andāGod help youāa duck-shaped heat pack.
āWhy is it a duck?ā you ask, your eyebrows raised.
āBecause love makes you stupid,ā he says. āNow take it. Don't say I never spoil you.ā
You trade the old heating pad for the duck and the moment your hand wraps around the tea, you sigh. āYou're being very sweet today.ā
āI'm always sweet,ā he says, sitting beside you and pulling you gently against his chest. āYou just usually notice it after orgasms.ā
You snort. āSo noble. So selfless.ā
āI know,ā he whispers into your hair. āI should get a medal for being denied sex and still being this amazing.ā
āYou're so brave.ā
āI am.ā
Hours later, the sky darkened. The rain is softer now, a hush over the city. Youāve migrated to bed in slow, sleepy steps, your body still heavy with cramps, your heart just a little lighter.
Eddie slips under the covers first, stretching out with a content sigh, then opens his arms in invitation. āCome here, you bleeding goddess.ā
You groan and crawl into his arms, finding your place against his bare chest like muscle memory. His skin is warm, his touch soft as he runs his fingers down your spine.
āBetter?ā he asks.
āMm. A little.ā
āIād offer a back massage, but I fear Iād get too turned on.ā
āJesus, Eddie."
He grins against your hair. āIām suffering, baby. I canāt even lie. But Iām being good.ā
You tilt your head up to look at him. āYouāre not mad?ā
āMad?ā He cups your cheek. āOf course not. I mean, am I aroused to the point of spiritual crisis? Yes. But youāre bleeding. And in pain. And you still let me hold you like this. Thatās more than enough.ā
You blink. His voice is quieter now, the playfulness dialed down to something real.
āSeriously,ā he adds. āI used to wake up alone next to people I didnāt even like. And now I get to wake up beside the love of my life. Period or not. Thatās a win.ā
You swallow the lump in your throat and press your face into his chest.
He lets a beat of silence pass, then says, āStill gonna write tragic poetry in my Notes app about it.ā
You groan. āI knew you couldnāt help yourself.ā
āItās called āRed Tide of My Despairāāā
You squeak, pushing at him. āNo.ā
āA River of Lust, A Dam of Sadnessāā
āNo, Eddieāā
āThe Crimson Abyss of Blue Ballsāā
āGood. Night.ā
He chuckles, then settles down again, arms locked tight around you, mouth brushing your temple.
You feel him relax as you drift. Safe. Warm. Held.
Even with the cramps. Even with the inconvenience. Even with the duck-shaped heat pack between you.
Heās here.
And he's yours.
reblogs and feedbacks are appreciated!!
dividers by: @dollywons
tags!! @princessanglophile @themareverine @wchswift @dimlylittorch @mcrdvcks @briseroyawritingsblog @howlettsangel @flowersforbucky @lubdubology @xxladymjxx @sweetverine @tezooks @loganismybodyguard [lmk if you wanna be added or removed!!]
Worth it (Soulmate AU) || Logan x Reader
summary: In this world soulmates can take the pain away from their partner. It's a true act of love, of sacrifice. You've found your soulmate but he doesn't know. Until one night he comes back with life threatning injuries.
warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, happy ending, blood/injuries.
wc: 2.7k
a/n: Fucked around and wrote a 2.7k fic in 2 hours. I had this idea and I wrote it idk how man but I wanted angst. This is also some old man logan love. I rarely write for him so I thought he needed some more fics from me tee hee.
The world was funny sometimes. In a universe where soulmates existed you would think things would be better, happier maybe. But it wasn't. At least not for Logan.
See in this world soulmates could take each others pain. Their love would be so strong, so powerful that even their pain would be shared. It a strange way it was romantic. To love someone so much you'd willingly take on their suffering. Taking their pain won't kill you but it gonna hurt like hell.
Logan never really cared about all that. He could heal on his own why the hell would he ever need a soulmate. Love is complicated and he's not looking for more complications in his life. His friends are dead and he's a run down limo driver slowly dying from metal poisoning. Adding love? That's just a recipe for disaster. He's reckless, he's angry, he doesn't care anymore. For all he knows his soulmate was long gone.
But soulmates can't stay apart for long. He just didn't know he had already found his.
When you met Logan you were working a dead end job at a sleezy bar. You hated it here. The pay was terrible and the patron were nothing but perverts. But it was all you could find. Then Logan walked right through that door. The night some asshole tried to stick his hand up your uniform. Logan took a claw and stabbed it right through that mans hand. He got thrown out of the bar and you had gotten fired. Logan drove you home and apologized for making a mess of your life. He didn't mean to, really he's just trying his best. He's got a kid to feed now and shit ain't easy.
Which is how your relationship was born. A live in nanny. He paid you to look after his daughter, clean, cook and honestly this was a much better job than working at a bar. He knows it's not what you want to do with your life but for now he'll do his best to help you get the money to leave this shit town one day. It was nice. Laura was sweet although a bit...feral and Logan was polite but very closed off.
You didn't realize you were soulmates until a few months into this arrangement. His back was killing him. The pain was written all over his face as he collapsed on the couch and squeezed his eyes shut. Sleep fell soon after but he never seemed to relax, like he was in a permanent state of pain. You laid a blanket over him and gently placed your hand on his arm.
Suddenly a sharp pain ripped through your back. You covered your mouth to hide the gasps of pain as you fell to the floor. Your eyes widening as you see Logan's face slowly start to relax. You take your hand off his arm and slowly try and stand up. The ache remains as you trudge your way to your bedroom. By morning it's gone. Your body was younger, able to heal pain faster than Logan can. You struggled with what to do.
Do you tell him? Would he accept you as his soulmate? Or would he cast you out? He never once talked about his soulmate and as far as you knew he didn't want one. He was fine with just Laura. Well just Laura and now you. When you walked out of your bedroom you made your decision. To stay quiet.
He was happier than normal. Even smiling with Laura at breakfast. The ache would return to his body but you were able to give him some relief. A relief he wouldn't accept if he knew it was you. You..you really cared about Logan. You were destined to love him. To care for him. So you will. Even if it's in secret.
That brings you to present day. The three of you had fallen into a nice routine. Logan would go to work, you'd take Laura to school, and then you'd do some of the more mundane things. At night before he slept you would find a way to secretly absorb some of his pain. A hand on his shoulder or his arm. He hadn't caught on luckily but it was starting to take it's toll on you. You were tired, achy. But still you kept a smile on your face. It was becoming harder to do things around the house so Logan insisted he could help. He was feeling better after all. But you still did as much as you could. Not because it felt like you had to, but because you wanted to. You loved seeing his eyes light up at the smell of a nice dinner and you loved Laura to death. This was your life and you were happy.
"How was school today?" You ask Laura as she drops her backpack off at the front door.
"It fucking sucked." She grumbles as she sits on the counter. A snack plate waiting for her as she pulls out her homework.
"Laura, we don't use that language." Dammit Logan. This was his fault.
"Why not dad uses it all the time."
"Yeah and look at him, you don't want to turn out like your old man do you?" You tease. The two of them had an odd but loving relationship and you've learned to lean into it.
"So what happened? Why did it suck?" You ask.
"We talked about soulmates. I think they're stupid." She bites into an apple slice as she talks.
"I don't need a soulmate to be happy." She says firmly.
"That's right baby you don't." You say proudly.
"Are you and dad soulmates?" She asks and it takes you off guard.
"Some jerk in my class was talking about it. Said we're weird because you guys aren't soulmates. I wanted to stab him." Her little brow furrows in anger as she stabs an apple slice with her claws. You know she really was like a mini Logan.
"But I didn't." She adds on. You sigh softly and pat her head lovingly.
"I'm proud of you honey. Soulmates are nice but we're happy as we are right? That kid doesn't know what he's talking about." The clock strikes 4 and her attention turns to the TV, already uncaring about the conversation from before.
But it does make you think. You aren't Laura's mother and you and Logan aren't together but from the outside you see how people can confuse you as a family. Logan has a natural protective instinct and on the rare occasion you three get to be together, it feels like a family.
As the sun goes down Logan still hasn't returned home. It was starting to worry you. Dinner passed and you had sent Laura to bed and Logan was still gone. You checked your phone repeatedly. Maybe he was just working late and you missed a text or he was stopping at the bar or something. Still deep in your gut you could feel something was wrong. And you were right.
It's just before midnight when Logan stumbles through the door. He's covered in blood. You jump out of your chair as he collapse onto the couch. Blood soaking the cushions as you rush to get towels and the first aid kit. Logan had shed his jacket and his shredded button up. Leaving him shirtless. He had wounds all over his torso and arms.
"Laura?" He croaks out, he doesn't want her to see him like this.
"Asleep." You assure him and he nods.
"Logan, what happened?" You ask as you press a towel to his stomach.
"Got jumped." He grits out, letting out a groan of pain.
"Bastards surrounded me." You try and wipe away the blood but it's pouring out of him. He can heal but it's not working as fast as it used to. He's losing so much blood. You can't call an ambulance, the panic setting in as you look to Logan for help.
"Logan what do I do?" You ask with tears in your eyes.
"Don't cry honey, m'fine." His eyes flutter closed and he stops responding.
Panic floods through your veins. No no no. You don't care if he'll heal eventually, what if its too late? What if this was too much. You won't let him die today. With shaky hands you place your hands on his torso. Taking steady breaths as the bleeding stops and the wounds start to close.
You let the tears fall as pain rips through your stomach. It won't kill you but it feels like it is. The cuts open on your arms but no blood. You squeeze your eyes shut as you endure as much as you can.
Logan slowly starts to come back. He's confused, disoriented. He feels fine. He shouldn't feel fine he should be in agony like he was when he passed out. Then he sees you. The tears streaming down your face. Your hands on his skin. Your skin cut open in the exact places he was stabbed.
"Get the fuck off me!" He shouts in panic.
Ripping your hands away from him. You collapse on the ground. Too weak to do anything but lay there. He kneels to the ground and grabs your face. Tapping your cheek until your eyes flutter open.
"Hurts." You whine and Logan feels his heart crack.
"I know honey, Fuck what were you thinking!" He growls. He's so damn angry, not at you but at himself.
"You...you were gonna die." You groan as you move your arm and another wave of pain washes over you.
"I was fine." Logan doesn't know what to do.
Everything is crashing down on him in this moment. You're soulmates. Fuck you are actually his soulmate and you've taken the pain that should have killed him. He's used to it by now but you, you've never felt this before and watching you cry is killing him.
He's meant to protective you, love you and care for you but here you are doing all that for him. A man who is not worthy. Logan picks you up, having to ignore your quiet whimpers of pain as he takes you to the bathroom.
"Need to take these off honey, I'm sorry but it'll help I swear." He mumbles and you nod.
The energy to reply just isn't there, but you trust him. He is your soulmate after all. He fills the bath with warm water and gently strips off your clothes. He gently places you into the water, breathing a sigh of relief when you slowly start to relax. The pain becoming an ache that settles deep into your bones. You tilt your head to the side. Seeing Logan staring at the ceiling, thinking.
"You can look you know. I don't mind." You say weakly. His eyes snap to yours and you see the anger swirling around those pretty hazel eyes.
"Have you lost your fucking mind?" He wants to shout, yell and scream how stupid that was.
How idiotic it is to take on all that for him? Him of all people. He deserve the pain he's suffered time and time again what the hell is one more day. But you. You just had to come along and steal his old broken heart. Show him kindness he hasn't experienced in years. Everything about you has taken over his fucking life and for the first time he wished things were different. That he could be the man who settles down and builds a nice quiet life. You turned him into that. You let him think for just a moment he deserved that kind of ending.
"Logan I-"
"No. Listen to me. I don't care if I am bleeding out on the side of the fucking road you don't ever do that again." It kills him to see you in pain.
He doesn't care that it won't be your demise, he only cares that you're hurt. To him, his pain becomes your pain. He's hurting you and he won't ever forgive himself for that.
"It's not worth hurting yourself. I'm not worth it." He cups your face as tears well up in your eyes again. He fears that you've taken on more of his pain but before he can pull away you grab his wrist.
"You're a fucking idiot Logan. Not worth it? You're worth it all to me. You think I like seeing you hurt? I know you're suffering. I took the ache from your body because I love you."
"You did what-" His eyes widening but you silence him before he can keep talking.
"Just shut up! I love you Logan. I know you've lived a long life and that you think you can handle it all on your own. Maybe you can. But you don't have to anymore." You stare into his sad eyes, you can tell he's fighting with himself in that head of his that never seems to rest.
"I would take your pain over and over, every day if it means you feel just a little bit of relief." You reach up and wrap your arms around his neck.
Pulling him down into a bruising kiss. Logan groans as he grips the edge of the bathtub tightly. Almost shattering it to pieces as he returns your kiss with equal fervor. His other hand dips into the water, settling on your back to push you closer to him. Your lips move messily against each other. Small whines and moans escaping as you tug on his silver hair.
When the kiss breaks your left breathless, nose bumping against this cheek as he closes his eyes. His chest heaving as he soaks in this moment.
"Please honey, don't do that again." He mumbles into your ear.
"You love me but I love you too and to see you in that much pain, it might kill me." Both of you are so fiercely protective of the other.
"Please. I can't watch you suffer because of me." He begs, his voice is so small. So broken. You press a gentle kiss to his cheek. You two might never see eye to eye on this. So hell bent on protecting each other.
"Okay, I won't. But please let me take some of it. Not all. But enough to where I don't have to watch you in agony." You plead.
Logan hesitates. A compromise is what you're offering and he doesn't want to take it. He's a damn hypocrite and he knows it because if he had to he'd take every ounce of your pain one day. He'll take his and yours and carry it on his back just to see you smile.
"Logan, please." He glances down at your arms and sees the cuts had closed. He runs his hand along your bare skin. But he sees your eyes and they're so sad.
"Okay." He whispers. He leans down and kisses you softly.
The real conversation comes tomorrow but for now you've found your peace. You've made your statement. In truth you'd do it all over again. It felt like you were being ripped apart, complete torture. But you'd take it for him. Always for him.
"How long have you known?" He asks as he traces shapes into your side.
"A month into working for you." Logan closes his eyes and sighs. He's not mad, really he isn't. He just feels like an idiot for not noticing sooner. When he started to feel better he didn't think much of it. He should have known.
"Why didn't you tell me?" "You had bigger things to worry about. Besides, Would you have let me help if you knew?"
"No." He answers and you smile, as if he had just proved your point.
"What are we going to tell Laura?" You ask, lightening the tension as Logan just chuckles.
"She'll be happy, she's been begging me to marry you for the last month." Logan smiles but his eyes are still full of worry. Of course he worries. He'll always worry.
"I love you Logan, I really do." He helps you out of the tub, uncaring if he gets wet.
"I love you too honey." He whispers as he watches you dry yourself off.
His mind might never shake the image of you on the ground in pain. The sounds you made will haunt him forever. He can hide his pain better, he can be more careful.
To protect you means to protect himself and now Logan has two reasons to come home. Perhaps the universe has forgiven his past violence and finally given him something to live for. A soulmate. A family.

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i love you, in every time ąæā§ā 1973 - we meet again my dear...
chapter summary: After leaving Team X behind, Logan finds himself back in New York City working as a bodyguard for various people. Until he finds himself acting as a bodyguard for you, a mobster's daughter.
word count: 18.3k+
pairing: Logan Howlett x fem!reader
notes: i'm a sucker for the bodyguard trope (and also just dofp logan in general, that man makes me go feral), so you know i had to do it when given the chance! i had so much fun writing this version of reader, especially because this is the closest to 'modern' times that we've gotten and i didn't have to do a ton of research about this year. the tags might give away a little bit of the plot, but i promise it's gonna be a fun ride ;)
warnings/tags: fluff, angst, 70s!logan, mafia/mob, implied age gap, flirting, smut, thigh riding, unprotected piv, creampie, arranged marriage
series masterlist - chapter 4 ā chapter 6
He left Stryker, Victor, and Team X behind, settling in New York City as a bodyguard, hired by various people: politicians, the mafia, anyone.
Logan was now getting his fifth job, protecting a mobsterās young daughter.
He was used to jobs like this by now, but something about this one felt... different. As he walked through the large estate, the details blurred around him. His focus was on the jobāuntil the moment he saw you.
You were standing by the window, the sunlight filtering through the curtains, casting a soft glow over your face. There was something familiar about the way you held yourself, the way your hair fell over your shoulders. For a second, it felt like the air was sucked out of the room.
Loganās chest tightened.
It was you.
Same face. Same presence. Same pull that had haunted him for over a century.
But you were different, too. This time, you werenāt a schoolteacher, a nurse, or a coal minerās wife. You were his new job.
You turned, eyes meeting his, and for a brief moment, it felt like you recognized him too. That sense of familiarity flickered across your face before you smiledāpolite, but distant.
āY/N, this is Logan,ā the mobsterāyour fatherāintroduced. āHeāll be your new bodyguard.ā
Your fatherās voice faded into the background as Loganās gaze remained locked on you. You gave a small nod, extending your hand. āNice to meet you, Logan.ā
Logan stared at your hand for a beat too long before taking it. That brief contact sent a shock through him, an old memory he couldnāt quite shake.
āLikewise,ā he muttered, his voice rougher than he intended.
Your father clapped Logan on the back. āI expect youāll keep her safe. Thereās been some... tension with a rival family.ā
Logan only nodded, but his attention stayed on you. You were right in front of him, alive. But you didnāt know him. Like always.
After your father left the room, you leaned against the window frame, crossing your arms. āSo, how long have you been doing this?ā you asked, your tone casual.
Logan leaned against the wall, watching you closely. āLong enough.ā
You raised an eyebrow, a small smirk tugging at the corner of your mouth. āThatās vague.ā
He didnāt respond, and for a moment, silence settled between you two. It wasnāt uncomfortable, but there was something unsaid hanging in the air.
āWhat about you?ā Logan asked, more to fill the space than out of curiosity. āHow do you feel about having a bodyguard?ā
You shrugged. āIāve had worse.ā
That earned a faint, almost imperceptible smile from Logan, but he quickly covered it with a grunt. āGlad to hear it.ā
A pause. Then you looked at him, your eyes narrowing slightly, like you were trying to figure him out. āYou seem... familiar.ā
Logan stiffened. āDonāt think weāve met before.ā
You tilted your head, studying him. āNo, but... I donāt know. Something about you.ā
Loganās heart pounded in his chest, but he kept his expression neutral. He couldnāt tell you. Not about the past lives, not about how many times he had watched you die.
You shrugged it off, smiling again. āMaybe Iām just imagining things.ā
āMaybe,ā Logan muttered, not meeting your eyes this time.
The rest of the day passed in a blur of introductions, schedules, and instructions from your father. Logan followed at a distance, keeping an eye on you, but his mind was elsewhere.
That night, Logan sat on the balcony just outside your room, staring out at the city lights. His thoughts raced, the weight of the engagement ring in his pocket feeling heavier than usual.
You were alive. Again.
But for how long this time?
---
You plopped onto your bed, the wire from your rotary phone stretching with you, āhe is good looking though.ā
You could practically hear Jenniferās grin through the phone, āoh, yeah? Man, all your bodyguards are good looking. Itās not fair!ā
You laughed, twirling the phone cord between your fingers. "Heās⦠different though. I canāt quite put my finger on it. Heās quiet, but not in the usual 'Iām-paid-to-watch-you' way."
"Is he mysterious?" Jennifer teased, her voice light. "Maybe heās got some dark, brooding backstory. Mob families always hire guys like thatāāstrong and silent.ā"
You snorted. "Maybe. But heās not like the others." You hesitated, leaning back against the pillows, staring at the ceiling. āThereās something familiar about him⦠like Iāve met him before.ā
Jennifer paused on the other end of the line, then her voice softened. "You think heās one of your dadās guys from back in the day?"
You shook your head, even though she couldnāt see it. "No, itās not that. Itās⦠weird, Jen. Like I know him, but I donāt. Itās been bugging me since I met him."
"Maybe itās fate," she joked, but her tone had a hint of seriousness. "Youāve been going through bodyguards like theyāre tissues. Maybe this oneās here to stick around."
You rolled your eyes but smiled. "Fate? Youāve been reading too many romance novels."
"Hey, a girl can dream!" Jennifer laughed. "But seriously, if you feel something, maybe itās worth looking into. Heās hot, right?"
You smiled at that, though your thoughts wandered back to Logan. The way his eyes lingered on you, like he was seeing something no one else could. "Yeah," you admitted softly. "Heās definitely that. Heās probably as old as my dad or somethinā. But man, Jen, if you saw him youād lose your mind.ā
You twirled the phone cord around your finger, still smiling to yourself, but your thoughts kept circling back to Logan. Something about the way he looked at youālike he knew more than he was sayingāstuck with you. It wasnāt creepy or overprotective. It was... familiar. Comforting, even.
Jenniferās voice pulled you from your thoughts. āHey, donāt overthink it, okay? Enjoy the view for once. Not everyone gets a hot bodyguard with a mysterious vibe. Maybe heās the silver lining to your dadās whole āparanoiaā problem.ā
You laughed quietly. āYeah, maybe.ā
You hung up not long after, still feeling the weight of that odd, lingering sense of déjà vu.
---
The next morning, Logan was waiting for you downstairs. Dressed in his usual dark clothes, he stood near the front door with his hands in his pockets, posture relaxed but alert. His eyes flicked toward you the second you entered the room.
There it was againāthat heavy gaze that made it feel like he could see right through you.
āMorninā,ā you said, offering a small smile.
āMorninā,ā Logan replied, his voice gravelly.
Your father wasnāt homeāout dealing with ābusinessāāwhich gave you a rare moment to yourself. Well, mostly. You slipped on your leather jacket and glanced at Logan, your lips quirking up in a teasing grin. āWhatās the plan, bodyguard? Gonna follow me around all day?ā
Logan grunted, something close to amusement flashing in his eyes. āThatās the job.ā
āYou always this chatty?ā
āOnly when I meet interesting people.ā His tone was dry, but there was the faintest flicker of a smile beneath it.
You snorted, heading for the door. āCāmon, hope you like running errands.ā
Logan followed without complaint, falling into step beside you as you made your way to the car. The streets were quieter than usual, but the tension between rival families was palpableāsomething was brewing, and everyone knew it.
Still, Loganās presence made you feel... safer. Like nothing bad could happen as long as he was there. It was strange. You barely knew him, but being around him felt easy. Natural. Like youād known him for a lot longer than a day.
---
When you said you were going to run āerrands,ā Logan hadnāt expected you to walk straight into an animal shelter. He followed you through the entrance, nodding politely at the woman at the front desk as you greeted her like an old friend.
āMorning, Lorraine!ā you said with a bright smile.
Lorraine, a middle-aged woman with kind eyes, smiled back. āThereās my favorite troublemaker. The pups will be glad to see you.ā She cast a curious glance at Logan. āAnd whoās this?ā
āMy latest babysitter,ā you said with a smirk, glancing at Logan. āLogan, meet Lorraine. Lorraine, Logan.ā
Logan gave a curt nod. āMaāam.ā
Lorraine chuckled. āA man of few words. I like him already.ā She waved you both toward the back. āGo on, theyāve been waiting for you.ā
As soon as you walked past the front desk and entered the back area, the sound of excited barking filled the air. Dogs of all sizes pressed their noses against the bars of their cages, tails wagging furiously at the sight of you.
You crouched down in front of one of the kennels, talking softly to a scruffy little mutt as it whined and pawed at the bars. āHey, buddy. Miss me?ā
Logan leaned against the wall, arms crossed, watching the way you scratched behind the dog's ears. There was something easy about the way you moved here, something soft. For a mobsterās kid, you had a surprisingly gentle touch.
"Didn't expect this to be part of the job," Logan muttered after a moment, his voice low but teasing.
You glanced up, grinning. "What, thought Iād be shopping for fur coats or shaking people down for cash?"
Logan raised a brow. "Somethinā like that."
You laughed, standing up and dusting your hands off. āSorry to disappoint. Iāve got a weakness for strays.ā You reached into your jacket pocket and pulled out a small bag of treats, tossing some into the kennels. "These guys have it rough enough without me skipping out on them."
Logan watched as the dogs practically fought over the treats, barking happily at your attention. You moved from cage to cage, giving each dog a little affection. It was... unexpected.
Logan watched you toss the last treat into one of the kennels, the scruffy mutt practically vibrating with happiness. He leaned back against the wall, arms crossed, an amused glint in his eyes as you turned and dusted your hands off with a grin.
"Youāre full of surprises," Logan muttered.
You raised an eyebrow, smirking as you folded your arms. āOh, yeah? Disappointed?ā
"Not exactly." His lips twitched, like he was fighting a smile.
You took a step closer, tilting your head. "Well, what did you expect?"
Logan shrugged, keeping his expression neutral. "Spoiled. Entitled. Maybe a little dangerous."
You laughed, the sound light and easy, and Loganās chest tightened in a way that felt too familiar. "Dangerous, huh? Guess Iāve got some layers." You gave him a playful once-over. "What about you? Big, scary bodyguard with a brooding vibe. Got any surprises I should know about?"
Logan snorted. "Not really."
You narrowed your eyes like you didnāt quite believe him, but instead of pressing, you motioned toward the door. "Cāmon. Iāve got one more stop."
Logan fell into step beside you as you exited the shelter and made your way toward the car. You chatted casually, filling the silence with stories about your favorite dogs at the shelter. But Logan stayed mostly quiet, his mind racing. It wasnāt just your voiceāit was you. The way you carried yourself, the way you teased him like it was second nature.
He stole a glance at you as you drove. God, it felt the same as always. Like gravity pulled him toward you whether he wanted it or not.
---
Logan shouldāve expected the second time around that you werenāt taking him to a normal place for errands. He was even more surprised when you parked in a nursing home parking lot and got out with that same pep in your step.
The sliding doors opened as you walked up to the front counter, where a middle-aged woman with tired eyes peered over the top of a blocky computer monitor. Her name tag read Carol.
āMorning, Carol,ā you chirped with an easy smile, tapping your fingers on the desk.
Carol looked up and brightened at the sight of you. āWell, if it isnāt my favorite visitor. Here to cheer up the old-timers again?ā
āAlways,ā you said, flashing a grin. āAnd I brought backup today.ā You gestured behind you to Logan, who gave a brief nod.
Carol gave him a once-over and arched an eyebrow. āWell now, you didnāt tell me youād be bringing a tall drink of water.ā
You smirked, glancing over your shoulder at Logan. āYeah, figured Iād mix things up.ā
Logan just grunted in response, but the corner of his mouth twitched slightlyāhalf amusement, half something else. Carol winked at you before waving toward the hallway. āYou know where to find them.ā
You led Logan down the hall, your steps light and familiar as if you'd been coming here for years. He followed quietly, his sharp gaze flicking between doorways and hallways, always alert.
āYou spend a lot of time here?ā Logan asked as you slowed near a door marked Activity Room.
You shrugged. āYeah. Most of these folks donāt get many visitors. Itās nice to stop by and remind them theyāre not forgotten.ā
Logan gave a small grunt of acknowledgment. It was such a simple thingāvolunteering at a nursing homeābut it hit him hard. It was just like you to find the overlooked parts of the world and give them your attention, like the dogs at the shelter, like the people here. You always had that streak of kindness, no matter which life you were living.
You nudged open the door, stepping into the room. A group of residents sat in mismatched chairs, some knitting, others half-watching a daytime soap on an old television. At the sight of you, faces lit up.
āThere she is!ā one of the older women called, setting her knitting aside with a delighted clap of her hands. āI thought you forgot about us!ā
āAs if I ever could,ā you replied warmly, walking over to give her a light hug.
Logan lingered near the doorway, watching as you moved through the room like you belonged there, chatting with each resident, asking about their week, their familiesāif they remembered them. His heart twisted, both with admiration and an ache that wouldnāt quit.
You noticed him standing off to the side and shot him a teasing grin. āDonāt be shy, Logan. They wonāt bite.ā
He raised an eyebrow. āNot worried about them.ā
You laughed, turning back to an older man with a deck of cards spread out in front of him. āLogan, meet Mr. Russo. Heās got a mean poker face.ā
Mr. Russo gave Logan a once-over, then grinned, his false teeth gleaming. āYou any good at cards, tough guy?ā
Logan shrugged. āI can hold my own.ā
You slid into the chair beside Mr. Russo, motioning for Logan to join you. āCare to test your luck?ā
Logan hesitated for only a moment before pulling out a chair, the legs scraping against the linoleum. As he sat down, you dealt him a hand, your fingers brushing his in the processāa fleeting touch, but enough to send a jolt of familiarity through both of you.
You caught Loganās gaze over the cards, a flicker of something unspoken passing between you. There it was againāthat sense that you knew him somehow, though you couldnāt quite place it. It nagged at you, but you let it pass, offering him a playful smirk instead.
āCareful,ā you warned. āI donāt go easy on anyone.ā
Logan returned the smirk, something dangerous glinting in his eyes. āNeither do I.ā
---
After the game, which you wonābarely, you said your goodbyes to the residents, promising to visit again soon. Logan followed silently as you made your way back to the car, the soft clinking of your keys the only sound between you.
āNot what you expected for today, huh?ā you asked as you slid into the driverās seat.
Logan leaned against the car door, arms crossed. āNot exactly.ā
You smiled, starting the engine. āBet you thought being a mobsterās kid would be more... glamorous.ā
āSomething like that.ā He gave you a sidelong glance. āYou like keeping people guessing, donāt you?ā
You grinned, shifting the car into drive. āItās one of my many talents.ā
The two of you drove in companionable silence, the hum of the city filling the space between you. Logan rested his elbow on the window frame, glancing at you every so often. You were like a puzzle he couldnāt quite solveādifferent from the others, yet still unmistakably you.
āWhy do you do it?ā he asked after a while. āThe shelter, the nursing home. You donāt have to.ā
You shrugged, your expression thoughtful. "Dunno. Just because I was born into this life doesnāt mean I like what my dad does. I guess sometimes I feel like Iām tryinā to balance the scales."
Logan leaned back against the seat, his sharp gaze on you, but he didnāt respond right away. You could tell he was chewing on thatāprobably picking apart your words, trying to figure you out. He always seemed like the kind of man who noticed everything, even if he didnāt say much about it.
You flashed him a teasing grin, trying to lighten the mood. "What about you? Any skeletons in the closet? Or are you just a man of mystery with perfect timing?"
Logan snorted softly, his lips twitching in that almost-smile he had. "Iām no mystery. Just do my job."
"Oh, come on," you pressed, throwing him a playful look. "You gotta give me something. Favorite food? Ever been married? Deep, dark secret?"
He gave you a sidelong glance, amused but guarded. "Steak. No. And not a chance."
You huffed in mock disappointment, drumming your fingers on the steering wheel. "Youāre no fun, Logan."
"Never said I was," he muttered, but there was warmth in his tone, like he didnāt mind your teasing at all.
The conversation paused for a moment, the soft hum of the engine filling the space between you. Loganās eyes lingered on you a little longer than they probably should haveātaking in the curve of your smile, the way your fingers tapped a rhythm on the wheel.
And damn, if you didnāt make it hard to stay detached. You were so... alive. Every glance, every smile, every little laugh. You carried yourself like someone who knew how fleeting things could beāand even though Logan knew you couldnāt remember, he remembered every time youād slipped through his fingers. That thought settled heavy in his chest, like a weight he carried everywhere.
You shot him a grin. "You know, if you keep looking at me like that, Iām gonna think youāre interested."
Loganās lips twitched. "What makes you think Iām not?"
The boldness of his response caught you off guard for a second, but you recovered quickly, leaning a little closer, eyes glinting with mischief. "Careful, tough guy. Youāre supposed to be protecting me, not flirting with me."
"Who says I canāt do both?" His voice was low, rough, and it sent a small shiver down your spine.
You tilted your head, pretending to consider it. "I think my dad might disagree."
Loganās eyes darkened slightly, though his expression didnāt change. "Your dadās not here."
There it wasāthat pull again, the quiet, unspoken gravity between the two of you. It was like standing on the edge of something dangerous and thrilling all at once. You felt it in the way his gaze lingered, in the weight of his words. He wasnāt just playing along.
You cleared your throat, breaking the tension with a teasing smile. "Well, if youāre planning on making a move, Logan, you better make it good. Iāve got high standards, yāknow."
Logan let out a low chuckleāquiet, but genuineāand for a moment, you thought you saw something softer in his eyes. Something like... affection.
But just as quickly, it was gone, replaced by that familiar guarded expression.
"Noted," he muttered, shifting his gaze back to the road ahead.
You grinned, satisfied that youād managed to chip away at his walls, even if only a little.
---
The two of you finished your errands without any trouble, stopping by a grocery store for some essentials and grabbing a late lunch at a small diner tucked away from the main streets. It wasnāt muchājust burgers and friesābut sitting across from Logan in the booth, you felt surprisingly content.
He was quiet most of the time, but not in a way that felt awkward. It was... comfortable. Like he didnāt need to fill the silence just for the sake of it. And every now and then, heād throw out a dry, sarcastic comment that made you laugh harder than you expected.
You leaned back in the booth, sipping your soda and watching him over the rim of your glass. "Yāknow, Logan... youāre not half as scary as you look."
Logan raised an eyebrow, smirking slightly. "Disappointed?"
"Not at all," you replied, your smile turning a little softer. "I like surprises."
He held your gaze for a moment, something unreadable flickering behind those sharp blue eyes. And for a secondājust a secondāyou thought maybe, just maybe, there was something familiar about the way he looked at you. Like you were more than just a job to him.
But before you could dwell on it, Logan glanced at his watch and cleared his throat. "We should head back. Your old manāll be expecting you."
You sighed dramatically, sliding out of the booth. "Guess my funās over."
Logan chuckled, tossing a few bills on the table for the check. "For now."
You gave him a playful nudge as you walked past him toward the door. "Donāt sound too excited."
---
By the time you got back to the house, the sun was starting to dip below the horizon, casting the streets in a soft orange glow. Logan followed you inside, his quiet presence grounding you in a way you couldnāt quite explain.
"Thanks for today," you said, tossing your jacket onto a chair.
Logan gave a small nod, leaning against the wall near the door. "No problem."
You hesitated for a moment, then shot him one last grin. "You know, youāre not as bad as I thought."
"Same to you," he replied, that almost-smile creeping back onto his face.
And just like that, the unspoken connection between you simmered beneath the surface, waiting.
Maybe Logan was right. Maybe your dad would be pissed if he knew how much you enjoyed your new bodyguardās company.
But standing there, watching Loganās gaze linger on you for just a beat too long, you found you didnāt care all that much.
"Goodnight, Logan," you said softly, turning toward the stairs.
"Goodnight, Y/N," he replied, his voice low and steady.
And as you climbed the stairs, you couldnāt shake the feeling that this wasnāt the first time youād said goodnight to him like this.
Not by a long shot.
---
Your dad told you not to leave the house today, which was fine by you, you had laundry to do anyways.
It had become habit to do your own laundry, even if you did have maids around the house. Nancy, one of the older maids, was the one to teach you that, along with cooking and cleaning since your mother has been gone since you were little.
You had a radio set on the washer, the familiar croon of 70s tunes filling the small laundry room as you pulled warm clothes from the dryer into a basket. Youād been at it for the better part of the morning, the simple domestic task giving you a sense of normalcy. The soft hum of the machines, the crackling radio, and the scent of clean laundryā it was all routine.
Routine helped keep your mind off the storm brewing outside your little bubble.
You sighed, swaying your hips a bit to the music as you lifted the basket. The house felt quieter today, with your dad off dealing with ābusinessā as usual. And Logan? He was somewhere nearby, probably lurking in the shadows like the brooding protector he was.
As if on cue, Logan appeared in the doorway, leaning against the frame with his arms crossed. He was dressed in his usual dark clothing, looking as stoic as ever. You wondered if he ever wore anything other than flannels and a leather jacket.
"You know, I didnāt take you for the laundry-doing type," he remarked, his gravelly voice cutting through the music.
You raised an eyebrow, throwing a playful glance over your shoulder. "What, you think Iām too spoiled to do my own chores?"
Logan's lips twitched, almost forming a smile. "Something like that."
You smirked, grabbing the laundry basket and turning to face him. "I like to surprise people."
"Youāre good at it," he replied, his gaze lingering a little longer than usual. There was something behind those eyes, something deeper, but as always, he kept it hidden beneath that calm, impenetrable exterior.
You tilted your head, leaning your hip against the dryer. "You sticking around or just checking on me?"
Logan shrugged, though his eyes never left yours. "Just making sure you're not running off anywhere. Your dad was pretty clear about staying put."
You rolled your eyes, but the smile tugging at your lips softened the gesture. "Iāll be a good girl. Promise."
Logan grunted in response, pushing off the doorframe and walking closer. "Youāre a lot of things, Y/N. Not sure āgood girlā is one of them."
You let out a laugh, swatting at him with a towel. "Hey, I can behave when I want to. Itās just more fun not to."
He caught your wrist with ease, holding it for a second too long before letting go. There was that familiar tension between you again, the unspoken something that crackled in the air whenever the two of you were close. He probably didn't mean to linger, but you could feel itāthat pull.
"Maybe itās the company," you teased, grabbing your laundry basket. "You bring out the best in me."
Logan didnāt respond immediately, but there was something in his eyes, something that made your breath hitch. He was quiet, but not in the usual way bodyguards were. With Logan, there was a weight to his silence, like he was always holding back, always watching.
You pushed past the lingering tension with a grin, heading toward the door with your laundry. "Come on, broody. Letās get out of the laundry room before we both go stir-crazy."
As you passed by, you brushed against himājust lightly, but enough to send a small jolt through you. He didnāt move, but his eyes followed your every step, that silent intensity never wavering.
You stopped in the hallway and shot him a look over your shoulder. āYouāre making this way too serious, you know. Iām doing laundry, not sneaking out of prison.ā
āOld habits die hard,ā he replied, crossing his arms with a slight smirk. āBesides, I think your dadās idea of āsafeā is pretty different from yours.ā
You rolled your eyes, hugging the laundry basket closer. āRight. Next, heāll say I need an escort to the mailbox.ā
Logan raised a brow, clearly amused. āYou wouldnāt be the first.ā
That earned him a laugh, and you shook your head, settling the basket on the table in the hall. āGuess youāre stuck with me then, bodyguard.ā
āDoesnāt seem so bad,ā he said, his voice softening as he glanced at you. His gaze was familiar in a way you couldnāt place, like heād looked at you this way a hundred times before.
āYeah?ā You took a step closer, crossing your arms with a playful grin. āAnd here I thought Iād be driving you crazy.ā
āYou do,ā he murmured, almost too quietly. His lips turned up slightly, but he looked away, that unspoken wall going back up.
āGood,ā you teased, reaching out to poke him in the chest. āKeeps things interesting.ā
Logan caught your hand before you could pull it back, holding it just long enough that you could feel the warmth of his touch, the quiet strength in it. There was something in his eyes that hinted at⦠more. Like heād known you far longer than you couldāve ever guessed.
āIs that what you want?ā he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
Your heart thumped, but you kept your tone light. āDepends on what youāre offering, doesnāt it?ā
His gaze dropped to your hand, still caught in his. He let go, but there was something in his expression that lingered. It was like he was searching for the right words, something he couldnāt quite say. Or maybe didnāt want to.
Instead, he settled back with that guarded look. āBetter get used to me being around,ā he said, nodding toward the front of the house. āYour dad wonāt have it any other way.ā
You glanced down the hall and shrugged. āGuess I can live with that. For now.ā
Loganās lips twitched, just barely. āFor now,ā he echoed, and there was something heavier in those words, something he wasnāt sharing.
You lingered for a moment, the silence stretching between you, before you picked up the basket again. āWell, Iāve got more laundry to fold. But if you feel like helping outā¦ā
He chuckled, shaking his head. āNice try, sweetheart.ā
You rolled your eyes, shooting him a wink. āFine. Iāll let you off easy this time.ā
āAppreciate it,ā he said with a smirk, but his eyes softened as he watched you turn to go, like he was holding back something he couldnāt quite name.
As you walked away, the light-heartedness of the moment stayed with you, but so did something else. It was that look Logan had, the one that made you feel seen, like he knew you better than anyone else ever had.
Maybe he did.
Or maybe, in some impossible way, he always had.
---
āNo, no, no, cara. Give it to me.ā Nancy took the mixing bowl away from you, stirring the batter while muttering something in Italian.
You leaned your hip against the counter, placing your head on Nancyās shoulder with a pout. "I was doing what youāre doing.ā
Nancy shook her head, stirring the batter with a practiced hand, her warm, familiar presence comforting. āNo, cara mia, you were doing what you think Iām doing.ā She shot you a look, one of those fond, chiding glances sheād perfected over the years. āAnd it was not the same.ā
You laughed, pressing a kiss to her cheek. āFine, but youāre teaching me bad habits. This is how I stay spoiled, you know.ā
She chuckled, patting your cheek affectionately. āYou think you need me to be spoiled? You do just fine on your own.ā
Before you could respond, Loganās familiar silhouette appeared in the doorway. He leaned against the frame, watching you with a slight smirk that was becoming all too familiarāand endearing.
āCareful, Nancy,ā he said, his voice a low rumble. āSheās already hard enough to handle.ā
You turned, hands on your hips, feigning offense. āExcuse me, hard to handle?ā
Logan shrugged, crossing his arms with a smirk. āYou said it, not me.ā
Nancy chuckled, eyes sparkling as she looked between you and Logan. āAh, Y/N, heās right. You do have a little spirit.ā
You scoffed playfully, giving Logan an exaggerated glare before grinning back at Nancy. āWhat? Iām an angel, and you know it.ā
Logan snorted, clearly enjoying himself. āRight. A real saint.ā He gave you a knowing look, one that made your stomach flip despite yourself. That unspoken energy simmered between you two, even as you tried to keep it casual.
Nancy just shook her head, muttering something in Italian as she set the bowl down. āAngels donāt cause so much trouble,ā she teased, pinching your cheek. āI taught you better.ā
You rubbed your cheek with a grin, leaning back against the counter. āIām blaming Logan. His bad influence must be rubbing off on me.ā
Logan raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth twitching up. āThat right? Thought you didnāt need any help there.ā
āOh, I donāt,ā you said, crossing your arms with a challenging look. āIām fully capable of trouble on my own.ā
Nancy watched the two of you with a satisfied smile, turning back to her baking. āAh, I see,ā she murmured, her voice light. āItās good to have someone who knows how to keep you in check.ā
The glint in her eye wasnāt lost on you, and you rolled your eyes. āYouāre making it sound like Iām some kind of wild child.ā
āNo, no,ā she replied with a grin, waving her hand. āJust that I think he knows you better than you think, cara.ā
Loganās gaze softened a little at that, and though he didnāt say anything, his look lingered, as if he were silently agreeing with her.
You cleared your throat, feeling the familiar warmth creeping up your neck. āWell,ā you started, trying to brush off the moment, āif Loganās going to stick around, he might as well help.ā
Nancy gave a sly smile, turning to Logan. āWhat do you say, Logan? A little kitchen work wouldnāt hurt.ā
Logan shook his head, holding his hands up in surrender. āYou two are doing just fine without me.ā
You shot him a grin, taking a step closer. āOh, come on. Big, tough Logan afraid of a little flour?ā
His smirk softened as he looked down at you. āYou keep pushing, and I might just teach you a lesson in troublemaking.ā
Your stomach fluttered at the way his gaze stayed locked on yours, that familiar pull tugging you closer. āIs that a threat?ā
āCall it⦠a warning,ā he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. His hand brushed against yours, just for a second, but it was enough to send a spark up your arm.
Nancy cleared her throat, clearly amused. āOkay, okay. I donāt need you two making a mess of my kitchen.ā
You stepped back, giving Nancy a sheepish smile, and Logan chuckled, the sound low and easy. āSheās right,ā he said, nodding toward the door. āGuess Iāll just keep an eye on you from a safe distance.ā
Nancy gave him a knowing look, shaking her head with a chuckle. āIf only it were that simple.ā
---
āAh, stay still, cara.ā Nancy chided you, taking out a roller from your hair.
You gave Nancy a pout, eyes skimming your reflection in the mirror with clear discontent. "I donāt like it." Your voice held more weight than just the hair and makeup, though, and Nancy seemed to pick up on it.
She clicked her tongue, smoothing out a curl before looking at you through the mirror. āAh, cara mia, tonight is important to your father. Besides,ā she added, eyes glinting, āyou look beautiful, yes?ā
You gave her a half-hearted smile, brushing your hands over the bright yellow fabric of your dress. The dress was elegant and too formal for your taste, the kind of thing youād never have chosen if it werenāt for your dadās insistence on making you āpresentableā for his associates.
Nancy sighed, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder. āY/N, itās one night. Then youāll be back to your regular clothes, hmm?ā
You grinned, rolling your eyes. āCanāt come soon enough.ā
Just as you were about to add more, there was a quiet knock at the door. You looked up, already expecting Loganās familiar silhouette. He leaned against the frame, hands in his pockets, his usual air of calm doing little to hide the intense look in his eyes as he took in the sight of you in the dress.
āLooks like theyāve got you all dolled up,ā he remarked, a faint smirk playing on his lips.
You shot him a look, half annoyed, half amused. āYeah, laugh it up, tough guy. Bet youāre glad itās not you in this thing.ā
Logan chuckled, stepping further into the room. āYou could say that.ā His eyes met yours, and for a brief second, there was something in his gaze, something you couldnāt quite put into words. But just as quickly, he looked away.
Nancy gave you a knowing smile, patting your shoulder before stepping back. āLogan,ā she said, with a gentle warning in her voice, ātake care of her tonight, yes?ā
Loganās expression softened, his gaze turning protective as he looked at you. āAlways do.ā
Nancy winked, then left the room, leaving you alone with him.
You let out a sigh, reaching for the hem of your dress as if you could somehow make it less constricting. āDo I really have to go down there?ā
Logan raised an eyebrow. āYou think your dadās throwing this party for fun? Whole point is for you to be seen.ā
āGreat,ā you muttered, moving toward the door. But as you passed him, Logan placed a hand on your shoulder, stopping you.
āYouāll be fine,ā he said, his voice lower, more reassuring. āTheyāre not expecting anything from you. Just show up, smile, let them know you exist.ā
You looked up at him, searching his face. He was steady, calm, his expression soft in a way he rarely let others see. You didnāt know why, but having him there made you feel a little more at ease. āGuess I donāt have much choice, do I?ā
āNope,ā he replied, his mouth twitching into that almost-smile.
With a resigned sigh, you squared your shoulders. āAlright, letās get this over with.ā
---
The party was everything youād dreaded: formal, suffocating, and filled with people whose only interest in you was as your fatherās daughter. Youād stuck close to Logan most of the night, exchanging quiet remarks whenever the chance arose, his presence the only thing keeping you from losing your mind. But as the night wore on, a few glasses of champagne and the tension of the evening started to wear on you.
You tugged on Loganās sleeve as you leaned in close. āThink anyone would notice if I snuck out?ā you murmured, your breath warm against his ear.
Logan chuckled low, his gaze flickering over you. āConsidering your dadās been watching you like a hawk? Probably.ā
You rolled your eyes, letting your hand brush his arm. āFigures. He canāt just let me have one night off.ā You shifted closer, feeling his warmth through his jacket, and gave him a mischievous smile. āBet you didnāt sign up for babysitting duty.ā
āDidnāt realize youād need it,ā he replied with a smirk, his voice barely loud enough for you to hear.
You nudged him playfully, letting your hand linger on his arm. āI donāt,ā you said, a little more insistently. āYou just donāt know what to do with me.ā
His eyes met yours, and there was something dark and unspoken in his gaze. āCareful,ā he murmured, his voice dropping. āI might take you up on that.ā
The hint of challenge in his tone sent a thrill through you, and you leaned closer, your hand settling on his chest as you whispered, āOh, Iām counting on it.ā
You could feel his heartbeat, steady beneath your hand, but his expression gave nothing away. He looked down at you, his jaw tight, but his eyes held that familiar intensity, the kind that had always made you wonder just how long heād been watching you. It was intoxicating, that pull between you, and tonight, with the champagne loosening your guard, you felt bolder than usual.
When you finally pulled away, you could feel his gaze following you, but you didnāt let yourself look back. Instead, you mingled through the crowd, smiling politely, pretending to listen to conversations while stealing glances at Logan across the room.
After what felt like hours, your fatherās attention finally shifted, and you took the chance to slip away to your bedroom.
As you walked up the stairs, Logan trailed behind you, like always. You were tired of this, of the flirting, how he did it back to you, but how nothing ever happened.
Well tonight you were done with that.
You opened your bedroom door and sat on the bed, quickly slipping off your heels and tossing them carelessly across the room. The muffled sounds of laughter and clinking glasses filtered up from downstairs, where the party raged on. Logan stood in the doorway, as he always did, watching you in that silent, intense way that had been driving you crazy for months.
You looked up at him, your fingers playing with the hem of your short yellow dress, the fabric brushing against your thighs as you shifted on the bed. āYou cominā in, or are you just gonna stand there all night?ā
Logan didnāt respond right away, his jaw ticking as his eyes flicked over you, taking in the sight of you sitting there, legs crossed, your dress riding up just enough to tease. He sighed, stepping into the room but staying near the door. āYour old manās got half the city downstairs, Y/N. This aināt the time.ā
You raised an eyebrow, a small smirk tugging at your lips. āSince when do you care about my dad? Heās not your boss.ā
He crossed his arms over his chest, the leather of his jacket creaking. āHe pays me to keep you safe, not⦠this.ā
You stood up from the bed, taking a step toward him. āThis?ā you repeated, voice playful, but you could feel the tension in the air thickening. āAnd what is āthis,ā Logan?ā
He didnāt answer, just stood there, his eyes dark and unreadable, but you could see the way his body tensed when you got closer, the way his gaze flicked down to your legs before snapping back up to your face.
You reached out, your fingers brushing against the rough material of his flannel, and you could feel the heat of his body through the layers of fabric. He stiffened, his hand catching your wrist, but it wasnāt harsh. Just enough to stop you.
āY/N, donāt,ā he warned, his voice low, rough.
You tilted your head, stepping even closer until your body was almost pressed against his. āWhy not?ā you asked softly. āYouāve been following me around for months. Always there, always watching. What are you so afraid of?ā
āIām not afraid,ā he muttered, but his grip on your wrist tightened just a little, like he was holding himself back. āYouāre too young for this. I work for your dad.ā
You pulled your wrist free, undeterred, your hand now resting against his chest. āIām not a kid, Logan. And you donāt work for himāyou work for me. Youāve been protecting me, havenāt you?ā
His eyes narrowed. āThatās not what I mean, and you know it.ā
āThen what do you mean?ā you shot back, moving even closer, your fingers trailing up to his shoulder, over the leather of his jacket. āYouāve been pulling away from me every time I get close, but you keep coming back.ā
Loganās jaw clenched, his hands hovering near your waist, as if he was afraid to touch you. āYouāre drunk.ā
āIām not drunk,ā you said firmly, your voice steady. āAnd you know that.ā You pressed a little harder, your lips just inches from his jaw, close enough to feel the warmth radiating from his skin. āYou donāt have to keep pretending like you donāt want this.ā
His hands shot up to your shoulders, gripping you tightly, but he didnāt push you away this time. His breathing was heavier now, the muscles in his arms tensing as if he was fighting against himself. āYou donāt know what youāre asking for,ā he growled, his voice barely above a whisper.
āMaybe not,ā you admitted, your lips brushing the stubble on his jaw as you spoke. āBut I know what I want.ā
Logan groaned low in his throat, his fingers tightening on your shoulders, but still, he didnāt push you away. His resistance was crumbling, you could feel it.
āYouāre not a kid,ā he repeated quietly, almost like he was trying to convince himself.
āNo,ā you whispered back, your lips ghosting along the side of his neck, your hands moving to his chest, fingers curling in the fabric of his shirt. āIām not.ā
In a swift movement, you pushed him back toward the chair in the corner of the room, his legs hitting the edge as you guided him down. He sat heavily, his hands falling from your shoulders to your hips, still trying to hold onto that last bit of control.
You straddled his thigh, your dress riding up as you settled against him, the heat of your body pressed against the denim of his jeans. His hands moved up to your waist, holding you in place, but the look in his eyes told you he was barely holding on.
āY/N,ā he rasped, but his voice was shaky, uncertain.
You didnāt give him time to think. You started moving, rocking your hips against his thigh, slow at first, testing. His grip on your waist tightened, his eyes darkening as he watched you, the tension in his body radiating through his hands.
He wasnāt stopping you.
You bit your lip, your breath hitching as you pressed harder against him, the friction sending a jolt of heat through you. Logan groaned, his hands sliding down to your hips, holding you steady as you moved. His control was slipping, and you could feel it.
āFuck,ā he muttered under his breath, his head falling back against the chair, his eyes squeezed shut.
You leaned forward, your lips brushing his ear. āStill think Iām too young?ā
Loganās jaw clenched, his hands gripping you harder as you rocked against him, the rough fabric of his jeans rubbing against the thin material of your underwear. Every movement sent sparks of pleasure through you, and you could tell from the way his breathing quickened that he was feeling it too.
His hands slid up your sides, fingers digging into your skin as he tried to pull you closer, but you were in control now. You pressed your lips to his neck, kissing the exposed skin, feeling the tension in his body as you kissed down toward his collarbone, your fingers tangling in his shirt.
Logan groaned, his hands gripping you tighter as you moved faster, grinding against his thigh with more urgency. The heat between your legs was almost unbearable now, the pressure building with every movement, every gasp that escaped your lips.
Logan's eyes were shut tight, head thrown back against the chair, his hands gripping your waist like he was the one trying to stay grounded. But you werenāt stopping, not after all the months of back-and-forth, all the moments youād caught him watching you with that dark, unreadable look. The friction, the heat pooling between your legs, was everything youād been waiting for, and it was clear from the roughness of his breathing that he wasnāt far behind.
You pressed harder, your hips rolling against his thigh as you gripped his shoulders to steady yourself. The thin fabric of your dress had ridden up, and you knew he could feel just how soaked you were through the denim of his jeans. His hands were at your waist, digging into your skin in a way that bordered on painful but only made you push down harder, rocking your hips with more insistence.
Loganās voice was rough when he finally spoke, his hands tightening as if he was trying to keep himself from pulling you in closer. āY/N⦠youāre playinā with fire here,ā he growled, the words thick, like he was barely holding back.
You ignored him, pressing a little harder, your lips hovering just over the edge of his jaw as you breathed, āMaybe I like the heat.ā
His jaw clenched, but his hands slid up, settling just under your ribs, holding you steady as you moved. Each shift of your hips brought another groan out of him, the sound vibrating through his chest and sending a thrill straight through you. You could feel yourself getting closer, your breath coming in shallow gasps as the pressure built, the heat between your legs almost too much to bear.
āLogan,ā you whispered, your hands slipping up to tangle in his hair, pulling his face closer. You could see the restraint etched across his face, the way his jaw was clenched tight, like he was struggling to keep himself from giving in. āI need you.ā
His hands tensed on your waist, fingers digging in harder, his breathing growing rougher with every word that slipped from your lips. But he didnāt pull away; if anything, he held you tighter, letting you grind against him, the rough denim of his jeans rubbing against you in a way that left you breathless, desperate.
āYou know what youāre doinā to me?ā he muttered, his voice barely more than a growl as his eyes met yours, dark and full of something youād been longing to see for months.
āMaybe,ā you replied, a small, breathless smile tugging at your lips as you kept moving, kept pressing closer, feeling the tension between you both thicken until it was almost unbearable. āMaybe I want to see how far youāll let me go.ā
Logan groaned, his grip tightening as his eyes fell shut again, his hands shifting to guide your hips, helping you keep up the steady rhythm that was driving you both closer to the edge. You leaned forward again, your lips brushing against his neck, pressing soft kisses along the exposed skin as you rocked against him, the heat building with every second.
āY/N,ā he rasped, his voice so low it sent a shiver through you. āYouāre⦠youāre so damnāā
You cut him off, pressing your lips to the spot just under his ear, feeling the way his breath hitched as your hips ground down harder. You were close, every nerve ending on fire, and you could feel that he was, too. His hands were everywhere, sliding up your back, pressing you closer, holding you tight like he was afraid to let go.
And then, finally, the pressure broke. You gasped, fingers digging into his shoulders as your hips stilled, your body shuddering against him. Loganās grip on your waist tightened, his own breath hitching as he held you steady, his hands warm and solid as you rode out the waves of pleasure.
He was quiet for a long moment, his breathing heavy, and you could feel the way his body had tensed beneath you, the strain in his hands as he held himself back. Slowly, you looked up, meeting his gaze, and the intensity in his eyes made your breath catch all over again.
Without a word, Logan shifted, his hands sliding down to hook under your thighs as he stood, lifting you with a strength that sent another thrill through you. Your arms wrapped around his shoulders as he carried you to the bed, the heat in his gaze leaving no room for second thoughts, no hesitation. This was it, and you were ready.
He laid you down, his hands lingering on your thighs, his fingers brushing over your skin as he looked down at you, his expression a mix of hunger and restraint. You reached up, tugging him closer until he was hovering over you, his weight pressing down just enough to make you feel secure, safe.
This was what youād been waiting for, what youād both been skirting around for too long. Loganās hands slid up your sides, his fingers trailing along the fabric of your dress, and you felt your breath hitch as his gaze darkened, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.
His thumbs brushed the exposed skin just above the low neckline of your dress, leaving goosebumps in their wake. You watched him, eyes locked on his as he leaned in, his jaw tight, the hunger in his gaze barely restrained. The room felt smaller, warmer, like the air had thickened between you.
And then, finally, his mouth was on yours.
The kiss was desperate, wild, like he was making up for lost time. His lips claimed yours with a roughness that sent a shiver down your spine, his hands moving to cradle your face, pulling you closer as if he couldnāt stand the distance. You gasped against his mouth, your fingers finding their way into his hair, tugging him down harder.
It had been seventy-three years since heād last kissed youānearly three quarters of a century of holding backāand the intensity of it showed. It was all-consuming, like he was trying to make up for every second heād denied himself this.
Logan groaned into your mouth, a deep, almost pained sound, and the desperation in it made your blood race. He kissed you like he was starving, like he needed this, needed you, and you felt your body melt into him. His hands slid down your body, rough and sure, stopping at your hips to pull you flush against him. The heat between your legs was almost unbearable, and the friction of his jeans against your thighs only made it worse.
You broke the kiss for air, your breaths coming fast, but Logan didnāt stop. His mouth found your neck, trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses down the curve of your throat, teeth scraping against your skin just enough to make you gasp. His hands were everywhere, tracing the curve of your waist, the swell of your hips, gripping you with a possessiveness that sent a thrill through you.
āLogan,ā you whispered, your voice breathless, needy. You tilted your head back, giving him better access as his lips continued their descent, leaving a path of fire along your skin. Your hands fisted in his flannel, pulling him closer, and he groaned again, the sound vibrating through your body.
āGod, Y/N,ā he rasped, his voice thick with desire, like he was barely holding on. His hands slipped under your dress, fingers brushing against the sensitive skin of your thighs, and you shivered, your breath catching in your throat. He pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes heavy-lidded, pupils blown wide with need. āYouāre gonna be the death of me,ā he muttered, but the words were laced with something softer, something that made your heart skip.
You didnāt reply, just pulled him down for another kiss, this one just as desperate as the first. Your hands roamed over his chest, slipping beneath the open flannel to feel the heat of his skin, the hard muscles that tensed under your touch. Logan shivered, his breath catching as your fingers brushed against his bare chest, and you felt a rush of satisfaction at the way he reacted to you.
His jacket slipped from his shoulders, landing somewhere on the floor, but neither of you paid it any mind. Your hands were already pushing the flannel off him, revealing more of his skin, and Logan helped you, shrugging it off with a growl of impatience. The white beater he wore beneath clung to his chest, and you could see the way his muscles flexed beneath it, the way the fabric stretched taut over his shoulders.
He leaned back down, capturing your lips in another searing kiss, and you moaned into his mouth, your nails digging into his shoulders. Loganās hands were back under your dress, sliding up, leaving trails of heat in their wake. His touch was rough, calloused, but so incredibly gentle in a way that made your heart ache. You arched into him, your body pressing closer, desperate for more, for everything he was willing to give.
āFuck,ā he muttered against your mouth, his hands sliding higher until his thumbs brushed the edge of your panties. He paused, breathing heavily, his eyes searching yours, looking for any sign of hesitation. But there was none. You were all in, had been from the moment youād first seen him.
You reached down, grabbing his wrists and guiding his hands further up, silently urging him on. Loganās breath hitched, and his eyes darkened even more, a low growl rumbling in his chest. His fingers hooked into the waistband of your panties, and you could feel your heart pounding as he tugged, the thin fabric slipping down your legs.
"Fuck, Y/N," he growled, his voice thick with need as his calloused hands slid back up your thighs, pushing your dress higher. "You're so damn wet already."
You gasped as his fingers brushed against your center, your hips jerking up instinctively. "Logan, please," you whimpered, reaching for him.
He leaned down to kiss you hard, his tongue pushing into your mouth as his fingers began exploring you properly. The roughness of his hands contrasted with how gently he touched you, like he was afraid of breaking you. You moaned into his mouth as he slid one thick finger inside, your hands gripping his shoulders.
"That's it, darlin'," he murmured against your lips. "Let me hear you."
Your dress was bunched around your waist now as Logan worked another finger into you, stretching you carefully. Your earlier orgasm had left you sensitive, making every touch feel electric. His thumb found your clit and began rubbing slow circles that had you writhing beneath him.
"Logan," you gasped, your nails digging into his skin through his beater. "I needāah!āI need more."
He growled low in his throat, curling his fingers inside you. "Tell me what you need, Y/N. Say it."
Your face flushed but you met his eyes. "I need you inside me. Please, Logan. I've wanted this for so long."
Something dark and possessive flashed in his eyes. He withdrew his fingers, making you whimper at the loss, and reached down to undo his belt. The metal clinked as he pulled it free, the sound sending a thrill through you.
You sat up enough to pull your dress over your head, leaving you in just your bra. Logan's eyes raked over you hungrily as he pushed his jeans down his hips. The obvious bulge in his boxers made your mouth go dry.
"Come here," he growled, pulling you into another searing kiss as his hands found the clasp of your bra. It took him only seconds to undo it, and then you were bare before him, your nipples hardening in the cool air.
Logan's mouth moved to your neck, sucking hard enough to leave marks as his hands cupped your breasts. You moaned as he rolled your nipples between his fingers, your back arching into his touch.
"Fuck, you're perfect," he muttered against your skin, his voice rough. He shifted to take one nipple into his mouth, his tongue swirling around the sensitive peak as you gasped and squirmed beneath him.
Your hands found the hem of his beater, tugging insistently until he pulled back long enough to yank it off. The sight of his bare chest, all hard muscle and dark hair, made heat pool between your legs. There were old scars scattered across his skin - remnants of wounds time hadn't quite erased.
You reached for his boxers but he caught your wrists, pinning them above your head with one large hand. "Not yet," he growled, his free hand sliding down between your legs again. "Want to make sure you're ready for me."
His fingers found your clit again and you cried out, oversensitive and desperate. "Logan, please," you begged, trying to buck your hips up against his hand. "I'm ready, I swear. I need you now."
He studied your face for a long moment, his eyes dark with desire, before releasing your wrists. "Take them off," he ordered, nodding to his boxers.
Your hands shook slightly as you pushed the fabric down his hips, freeing his cock. He was huge, thick and hard, already leaking at the tip. You wrapped your hand around him, stroking slowly, and Logan's breath hitched.
"Careful, darlin'," he warned, his voice strained. "Been wanting this too long to end it early."
He pushed you back onto the bed, settling between your spread thighs. The head of his cock brushed against your entrance and you both groaned. Logan braced himself on his forearms above you, his eyes locked on yours.
"You sure about this?" he asked, his voice rough but gentle. "Once I start, I don't know if I'll be able to stop."
You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him closer. "I'm sure. Please, Logan. I want you."
He kissed you hard as he began pushing inside, swallowing your gasps as he stretched you open. The burn was intense but perfect, your body gradually adjusting to his size. Logan moved slowly, giving you time to adapt, but you could feel the tension in his muscles as he held himself back.
"Fuck," he groaned when he was finally fully seated inside you. "So tight, darlin'. Feel so good around me."
You clutched at his shoulders, panting. "Move," you urged. "Please, I needā"
Logan pulled back and thrust forward again, setting a steady rhythm that had you seeing stars. Each stroke hit something deep inside you that made pleasure spark through your whole body. His hands gripped your hips, holding you steady as he fucked into you with increasing force.
"That's it," he growled, watching your face contort with pleasure. "Take it, Y/N. Take all of me."
Your nails raked down his back as the pressure built inside you again. Logan's thrusts grew harder, faster, driving you both toward the edge. The headboard banged against the wall with each movement but neither of you cared about the noise.
"Logan," you gasped, feeling yourself getting close. "I'm gonnaāah!"
"Come for me," he ordered, his voice rough. One hand slid between your bodies to rub your clit. "Want to feel you come on my cock."
The added stimulation pushed you over the edge. You came with a cry, your body clenching around him as waves of pleasure crashed over you. Logan growled, his rhythm faltering as your walls pulsed around him.
"Fuck, Y/N," he groaned, his thrusts growing erratic. "Where do you wantā"
"Inside," you gasped, still riding the aftershocks. "Please, Logan. Wanna feel you."
He cursed, his hips snapping forward a few more times before he buried himself deep with a growl, spilling inside you. You could feel him pulsing, filling you up as he collapsed onto his forearms above you.
For several long moments, the only sound was your heavy breathing. Logan's forehead rested against yours, his eyes closed as he caught his breath. You ran your hands up and down his back, feeling the sweat-slick skin under your palms.
Finally, he pulled out carefully and rolled onto his side, pulling you with him. You winced slightly at the soreness between your legs, but it was a good kind of ache. Logan's arms wrapped around you, holding you close against his chest.
---
Logan let out a low groan as he woke, the bed beneath him feeling far too comfortable, unfamiliar in a way that immediately set him on edge. It took a second for his mind to catch up, piecing together where he was and, more importantly, who he was with.
He didnāt need to look over to feel the warmth beside him, or the way your hair fanned out across the pillow. It hit him all at onceāthe heat of your skin against his, the way youād leaned into him last night, confident, unrestrained. He opened his eyes, gaze finding you lying beside him, face soft and peaceful in sleep, an arm draped over his chest as if youād claimed him in the night.
Logan sighed, glancing at the ceiling, but couldnāt help looking down at you again, still asleep and blissfully unaware of the storm in his head. Heād known it was a bad idea from the start, coming upstairs with you last night, letting his guard down. But damn, when youād gotten close, pushing him toward that chair with that look in your eyesāheād been gone the second youād touched him.
He was even further gone when he had finally kissed youāit was one of his biggest regrets the last time he had seen you back in 1943āhe never held you the way he wanted to. Too afraid that maybe he was the problem, the reason you kept on dying over and over.
And because of that, he hadnāt been this close to you since 1900.
It was strange, being here like thisāletting his guard down after all those lives, all those memories of watching you fade out of his reach. A part of him had always tried to keep a distance, to save himself from the heartbreak he knew was coming. But last night⦠last night, heād been weak.
He brushed a thumb over your arm without thinking, lost in thought. It was impossible not to wonder, with you lying beside him like this, what it would be like if this time were different. If, just once, he could hold onto you, let himself believe youād stay.
But he knew better.
His hand lingered on your skin a moment too long, and he felt you stir, your lashes fluttering as you slowly opened your eyes. A soft smile touched your lips when you saw him, and he felt his resolve crack just a little more.
āMorninā,ā he murmured, his voice rougher than heād meant.
āMmm,ā you hummed, still sleepy, your fingers tracing a lazy pattern over his chest. āDidnāt think youād still be here.ā You said it lightly, but there was a hint of something else thereārelief, maybe. āGuess I finally wore you out.ā
Logan huffed, his lips tugging into a smirk. āGuess so.ā
You shifted to look at him, your eyes bright with that familiar mischief. āSo, whatās your excuse this time?ā
He raised a brow. āExcuse?ā
āYeah. For pulling away,ā you said, your tone casual but pointed. āYouāve always got one.ā
Loganās jaw clenched slightly, and he broke eye contact, looking away. āItās complicated, Y/N.ā
You reached up, cupping his face and guiding his gaze back to you. āThatās what you always say. Doesnāt mean it has to be.ā
He was silent for a moment, searching your face. He could feel the weight of his past with you, all those memories stacking up like a dam holding back a flood. But he couldnāt let you in on that. Couldnāt make you carry the burden of knowing youād livedāand diedāso many times before. It was his cross to bear, not yours.
āMaybe I just donāt want you getting hurt,ā he finally said, his voice quieter, a touch raw.
You let out a short, incredulous laugh. āPlease, Logan. You think I donāt know what Iām doing?ā
Logan just shook his head, but he couldnāt help the small, amused smile that crept onto his face. āYouāre a handful, you know that?ā
āIāve heard that once or twice,ā you teased, running your hand along his chest. āLucky for you, I donāt scare easy.ā
That hint of defiance in your voice tugged at something deep inside him, and he caught your hand, holding it in his as he looked into your eyes. āYou say that now. But Iāve got a way of⦠complicating things.ā
Your gaze softened, but there was still a spark there, unyielding. āGood thing I like complicated.ā
Loganās eyes darkened, and for a second, he felt that familiar pull, the urge to tell you everythingāto let you in on the truth of why he was here, why he couldnāt stay away. But he stopped himself, the weight of all those lost lifetimes bearing down on him again. He couldnāt do that to you, not this time.
āThen I guess Iām stuck with you,ā he said, trying to keep his tone light, even though his grip on your hand tightened ever so slightly.
āGuess so,ā you replied with a grin, shifting closer. You tilted your head, eyes narrowing as you studied him. āLogan?ā
āYeah?ā
āAre you ever gonna stop acting like youāre some kind of curse?ā Your voice was soft but firm, like you were daring him to argue.
Logan went silent, his gaze flickering away from yours. Youād hit closer to the truth than you knew.
āDonāt know if I can,ā he admitted after a pause. āItās⦠complicated.ā He shrugged, hoping youād leave it at that.
But, of course, you didnāt. āThen I guess Iāll just have to keep proving you wrong,ā you murmured, pressing a light kiss to his jaw, a warm reassurance that only made him feel the pull of his past even stronger.
He didnāt answer, just closed his eyes, letting himself savor this one small, stolen moment with you. Just this once, heād allow himself that. Because deep down, he knew heād always lose you in the end.
And this time, he was determined to make it last as long as he could. Maybe, just maybe, even put that ring to use.
---
You were back at the dog shelter, this time staying a little bit longer since one of the workers, Amelia, was out sick.
Lorraine handed you a few leashes, āmind taking some of āem out for a walk?ā
You happily grabbed the roped leashes, āof course.ā Then you glanced over at Logan, who had been eyeing the dogs with a mix of amusement and reservation. āYou up for walkinā some too?ā
He raised an eyebrow at you, then at the leashes in your hand, but there was a hint of a smirk playing at his lips. āDidnāt take you for a dog wrangler, Y/N.ā
You laughed, clipping one of the leashes onto a small brown mutt who was practically bouncing with excitement. āCome on, Logan. Whatāre you afraid of? They donāt biteāwell, not all of them, anyway.ā
Logan chuckled, reluctantly stepping forward. āRight. Long as they donāt try to drag me down the street.ā
You handed him a leash attached to a shaggy, medium-sized dog with big brown eyes, looking up at him expectantly. āHere. This oneās named Ringo. Heās a sweetheart.ā
Logan eyed the dog suspiciously before giving the leash a little tug, testing the waters. āRingo, huh?ā He knelt down and patted the dogās head, a faint smile crossing his face as the dog leaned into his touch. āGuess youāre alright.ā
You couldnāt help but smile at the sight. āSee? He likes you already.ā As you finished leashing up a few more of the dogs, you handed the leashes to Logan. āThink you can handle these guys too?ā
Logan took the leashes without complaint, looking down at the little group of dogs at his feet. āGuess I donāt have much choice.ā
āGood answer,ā you teased, giving him a wink before heading toward the door. You led the way outside, the two of you walking side-by-side with the dogs trotting happily along. It was a warm day, and the sun was shining down, casting a soft glow over everything.
Logan glanced over at you as you moved down the sidewalk together, the dogs tugging excitedly at their leashes. You had a carefree smile on your face, and he found himself watching you more than the path ahead, the memory of a few nights ago still vivid in his mind. The thought of it sent a thrill through himāyet at the same time, a pang of dread.
āYou always this happy walking dogs, or is it just ācause Iām here?ā he teased, a little smirk tugging at his lips.
You shot him a playful look. āGuess youāll never know.ā You nudged him lightly with your shoulder, eyes bright with mischief. āBut if you keep coming with me, you might find out.ā
He let out a small laugh, his gaze softening as he looked away. Even after all these years, you could still surprise himālike the way youād drag him to places like this or the way you talked about the little things with such enthusiasm. It was one of those qualities he remembered about you from lifetimes ago, and it hadnāt changed. It made him feel like maybe, somehow, this was different.
As you walked a little further, one of the dogsāa scruffy little terrierāyipped and tugged at Loganās leash, trying to chase after a pigeon. He grunted, holding the leash tightly and muttering, āSettle down, mutt. Youāre not goinā anywhere.ā
You laughed, glancing over with an amused smile. āRingoās got more energy than youād think, huh?ā
Logan shook his head, but he couldnāt help but smile. āYeah, well, maybe I should be takinā notes from him.ā He looked at you then, and his expression softened. āYouāve really got a thing for these dogs, donāt ya?ā
Your smile faded into something more thoughtful as you looked down at the furry pack in front of you. āI dunno. I guess theyāre just⦠easy to be around. They donāt care about who my father is or what I doāthey just want someone to be with them, you know?ā
Logan nodded, watching the way you interacted with the dogs, your fingers lightly brushing over their heads, your voice soft as you spoke to them. Youād always had that kindness about you, that gentleness that made him want to believe in something better, something⦠safe.
āYouāre good with āem,ā he said quietly, almost to himself.
You looked up at him, a smile in your eyes. āYou know, youāre not so bad with them either, Logan.ā
He chuckled, shaking his head. āNah, I think Iāll leave the dog-wranglinā to you.ā
For a while, you walked in comfortable silence, the bustling city around you fading into the background as you wandered through the neighborhood with the dogs. Finally, you reached a small park, and you stopped to let the dogs sniff around.
As they explored, you took a seat on a nearby bench, patting the spot beside you. Logan hesitated for a second before joining you, stretching his legs out in front of him.
You looked over at him, your expression soft. āThanks for coming today. I know this probably isnāt your ideal way to spend an afternoon.ā
Logan shrugged, trying to act casual, but he couldnāt hide the warmth in his gaze. āWouldnāt be here if I didnāt wanna be,ā he said, his voice low.
The sincerity in his words made your heart skip a beat, and you looked away, feeling a little bashful. You fiddled with one of the leashes, clearing your throat. āYou know⦠the more time we spend together, the more I wonder how long youāre planning to stick around.ā
He hesitated, his jaw tightening as he considered his answer. He wanted to tell you the truthāthat heād been watching you, waiting for you, for so many lifetimes. But he couldnāt. Instead, he reached out, his hand covering yours where it rested on the bench.
āAs long as youāll have me,ā he said quietly.
The words hung between you, and for a moment, it was like the whole world had faded away. You looked up at him, your eyes searching his, trying to read the depths of his expression.
A soft smile touched your lips, and you squeezed his hand. āThen youāre gonna be around for a long time, Logan.ā
He felt a strange, hopeful ache in his chest at your words, and for the first time in what felt like forever, he allowed himself to believe that maybe, this time, things could be different.
The dogs barked, breaking the spell, and you both laughed, pulling away as you got up to wrangle them again. But even as you continued on your walk, he stayed close by your side, his hand occasionally brushing yours as you walkedāalmost as if he was reminding himself that you were real, that you were here with him.
---
Late one night, you lay beside Logan in the dim light filtering through the window, the cityās night sounds a steady hum in the distance. Your head rested on his chest, your fingers tracing lazy circles over the skin above his heart, feeling the steady beat beneath your touch.
Logan shifted slightly, his hand coming up to rest gently on your back. For a long time, he just lay there, watching you in silence, his thumb brushing along your spine. You could tell he was relaxed, but there was something elseāa quiet intensity in the way his gaze lingered on you, a heaviness in the air that made your heart race.
āWhatāre you thinkinā about?ā you murmured, letting your fingers trail up to his collarbone. You glanced up at him, catching the faintest hint of a smile as he met your eyes.
āJust⦠wonderinā how I got roped into all this,ā he said, the corner of his mouth lifting. But the glint in his eyes gave him away, and you saw something softer there.
āYeah? Doesnāt seem like you mind too much.ā You smirked, giving his chest a light pat. āIād almost say youāre gettinā attached.ā
He snorted, pulling you a little closer, his arm tightening around you. āCould say the same for you,ā he replied, his voice low, almost teasing. āYouāre insatiable, yāknow that?ā
You laughed, and the sound was soft in the quiet room. āYouāre the one who keeps showinā up, Logan. If you wanted me to behave, youād stay away.ā
He raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. āMaybe I donāt want you to behave.ā
Your fingers stilled on his chest, and you looked up at him with a mischievous glint in your eye. āSo you like me like this, then? A little reckless⦠a little spoiled?ā you teased.
He chuckled, his eyes softening as he looked at you. āYeah,ā he murmured, voice barely above a whisper. āThink I do.ā
You felt a warmth spread through you at his words, and you settled back against his chest, letting your hand rest over his heart. For a while, neither of you said anything, the silence comfortable, his warmth grounding you. It was a rare kind of peaceāone that youād come to cherish whenever you were with him.
But then, curiosity got the better of you, and you lifted your head, giving him a thoughtful look. āLogan,ā you began, your voice hesitant. āHow long are you gonna stick around? I mean⦠I know my dad thinks youāre just here for protection, but⦠it feels like more than that.ā
Loganās gaze darkened, a flash of something unreadable passing over his face. He glanced away, his jaw tensing as he seemed to search for the right words. āAs long as you want me here, Iām not goinā anywhere.ā
The weight of his words hung between you, and you felt your heart skip a beat. āThen donāt,ā you whispered, leaning up to press a soft kiss to his cheek. āI donāt want you to.ā
He didnāt say anything in response, but his hand slipped up to cup the back of your head, pulling you down into a slow, lingering kiss. There was something different about it this time, a quiet desperation that made your pulse quicken, like he was trying to hold on to this moment, to keep it from slipping away.
When you finally pulled back, you searched his eyes, wondering what was going through his mind. āYouāre not gonna let me go, are you?ā
A small smile tugged at his lips, though his gaze was still shadowed. āNot a chance, darlinā.ā
You felt a surge of affection for him then, this man whoād somehow become both your protector and your closest confidant. He was rough around the edges, guarded and distant with everyone elseābut with you, he was different. You brought out a softness in him, a warmth that felt as though it had been buried for a long, long time.
Without thinking, you reached up and brushed a lock of hair from his forehead, your fingertips lingering against his skin. āYou know, for a guy whoās supposed to be my bodyguard, youāre doing a terrible job at keeping things professional,ā you teased, though there was no bite in your words.
Logan let out a quiet laugh, shaking his head. āYouāre the one makinā things complicated, Y/N.ā
āMaybe.ā You smirked, your fingers still tracing over his chest. āBut you donāt seem to mind.ā
He looked at you then, something fierce in his eyes, and for a moment, you saw a glimpse of the man heād beenāa man whoād loved and lost, whoād carried scars from lifetimes past. You wondered if he would ever tell you his story, if he would ever let you in on the secrets he guarded so closely.
But for now, you were content with the silence, with the feel of his heartbeat beneath your hand, with the quiet reassurance that he wasnāt going anywhere.
As the night wore on, you lay there together, wrapped up in each other, the world outside fading away. And for the first time in a long time, you felt like you were exactly where you were meant to be.
---
Your father had asked you to come to his office in the spacious house. At first it was nothing but muffled voices from outside the door, until Logan heard your father speak again, for a longer period of time, causing your own voice to rise.
While Logan couldnāt make out the words you were saying even with his enhanced hearing, he could tell you werenāt happy. Your voice carried that sharp edge you only got when something really struck a nerve, and judging by the way you didnāt hold back, it had to be serious.
Logan lingered just outside the heavy, mahogany door of your fatherās office, his fists clenched as he heard your voice rising behind it. It was clear you were upset, and whatever was being discussed inside, you didnāt like it. Heād seen you frustrated, angry even, but never like thisāthere was a desperation in your tone that sent a chill through him.
Moments later, the door flew open, and you stormed out, cheeks flushed with anger, eyes flashing as you spotted him. You barely paused, brushing past him, but Logan caught your wrist, stopping you in your tracks.
āY/N,ā he said, his voice low. āWhat happened?ā
You turned to face him, anger and hurt swirling in your eyes. āHeās⦠heās marrying me off, Logan. To that family. After everything he promised meāhe said heād never force me into something like this.ā
Loganās expression hardened. āWhat are you talkinā about? He canāt just⦠marry you off like some kind of deal.ā
Your hands were shaking as you brushed a stray lock of hair behind your ear, struggling to keep your composure. āApparently, he can. Thereās been this feud with the Romano family for years, and he says this is the only way to keep the peace. To protect me. Protect us.ā
Loganās jaw clenched. He felt a familiar anger rising in him, a deep, protective instinct heād been fighting to keep under wraps. āSo, heās just gonna throw you into a marriage you donāt want? You donāt even know this guy, do you?ā
You shook your head, looking away. āI met him once. He was⦠polite enough. But thatās not the point, Logan. I donāt want to marry himāor anyone like this. My father always said heād let me choose, that he wouldnāt⦠sell me off.ā The bitterness in your tone stung, your gaze distant as if replaying the conversation.
Logan searched your face, feeling an ache he couldnāt put into words. āAnd he knows how you feel about this?ā
You swallowed, nodding. āI told him, but he says I donāt understand the bigger picture, that this is whatās best for everyone.ā You gave a hollow laugh, looking down. āFor everyone but me.ā
He felt a pang of guilt, knowing he was just a bodyguard, technically part of the arrangement meant to keep you safe from any threats. But you were more than just a job to him, and the thought of you being forced into something like this made his blood boil. He let out a rough breath, stepping closer. āY/N, you donāt have to go along with this. Not if you donāt want to.ā
Your gaze softened as you looked up at him. āAnd what am I supposed to do, Logan? Run off in the middle of the night?ā You gave a small, bitter smile. āI donāt even know where Iād go.ā
He didnāt hesitate, his voice dropping low. āThen we go together. If you donāt wanna go through with this, weāll figure somethinā else out.ā
Your breath hitched at his words, and for a moment, the anger and hurt seemed to fade, replaced by something warmer, more uncertain. āYouād really⦠leave everything?ā
He shrugged, almost nonchalant, but there was a fierce determination in his eyes. āI got no reason to stay here if youāre not here, too.ā
You hesitated, torn between the depth of his offer and the weight of the decision you knew would follow. Finally, you gave a small nod, as if grounding yourself in the moment. āI donāt know whatās gonna happen, Logan, but⦠I just need to know youāre here. That Iām not going through this alone.ā
He reached out, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear, his touch lingering. āIām not goinā anywhere, Y/N. You got my word on that.ā
There was a silence between you, thick and charged, each of you processing the weight of everything unsaid. His gaze stayed locked on yours, and for a moment, the anger and fear in your eyes softened, replaced by something closer to relief. And then, almost impulsively, you took his hand, squeezing it tight.
āThank you, Logan. I⦠I needed to hear that,ā you said softly, glancing away before meeting his gaze again, vulnerability written all over your face. āJust⦠donāt let go, okay?ā
He gave your hand a reassuring squeeze, his voice barely above a whisper. āNot a chance, darlinā.ā
---
Nancy was doing your hair once again for the dinner with the Romano family. You had tried everything over the past few weeks, trying to convince your father that this didnāt have to happen. That he promised you he would never do this.
But no matter what you did, he was firm in his stance, "you're getting married to Clyde, and that's final."
You sat still, staring at your reflection in the mirror as Nancy pinned up the last of your curls. Your face looked composed, serene even, but beneath it, there was a storm brewingāa knot of anger and dread you couldnāt shake. Every time you thought about that dinner tonight, your stomach twisted. Clyde Romano. A stranger. And yet, your father had decided this was your future, and nothing you said seemed to change his mind.
Nancy, sensing the tension, placed a comforting hand on your shoulder. "Itāll be alright, Y/N. Youāll be surrounded by family."
Family. Right. But none of them seemed to understand how trapped you felt. You forced a tight-lipped smile, nodding. "Thanks, Nancy."
As she stepped back, there was a light knock at the door. You turned to see Logan standing there, looking slightly uncomfortable in his formal attire but as steadfast as ever. His gaze softened as he took in your appearance, though he quickly masked it.
"Didnāt mean to interrupt," he said, glancing between you and Nancy. "Just wanted to make sure youāre ready."
Nancy finished adjusting your hair and excused herself, leaving you alone with Logan. You looked at him, searching his face, hoping for some kind of lifeline.
"Logan," you murmured, voice barely above a whisper. "I feel like Iām being dragged somewhere I canāt escape from."
He stepped closer, his expression darkening as he listened. āYouāre not alone in this, Y/N. You know Iām with you, whatever you decide.ā His hand reached out, brushing against your arm, his touch grounding you.
You drew in a shaky breath, steadying yourself. āWhat if I decide to just⦠disappear?ā you asked, half-joking but mostly serious.
Loganās eyes met yours, and you saw the unspoken resolve there. āThen Iāll be right behind you. Doesnāt matter where.ā
For a moment, you let yourself believe itāthat you could simply run, with Logan at your side. But reality crashed back in, and you dropped your gaze.
"I wish it were that simple," you whispered, clenching your fists. "But if I leave, it could tear everything apart."
Loganās hand settled over yours, his grip firm and reassuring. "Then we make it through tonight. And tomorrow, we figure out the rest. Youāre not facing this alone, darlinā. Not as long as Iām here."
You looked up at him, finding strength in his gaze. Heād been your rock through all of this, his presence steady and unwavering. And tonight, that was what you needed most.
āAlright,ā you murmured, giving him a small, grateful smile. āLetās go face this⦠together.ā
He nodded, his grip on your hand a silent promise. Whatever came next, you knew heād be there, just as he always had been. And with that thought, you found the courage to head downstairs to face your familyāand the Romanosāone more time.
---
The dinner was at an Italian restaurant, one your father owned as cover for his business. Your dad sat at the head of the table while Clydeās father sat at the other end. In front of you was your uncle Ermanno, who was also your dadās consigliere, while Clyde sat next to you.
Logan, along with the other bodyguards, stood watch at the entrance of the private dining room, their silent gazes sweeping the place. He wore his usual hard expression, though his eyes softened just a touch when they found you across the room. Heād been watching you all nightācatching every little shift, each moment you looked down or forced a smile, every subtle tightening of your hand on the tablecloth.
Clyde Romano leaned in a little closer, his arm casually brushing against yours as he tried to make small talk. "So, Y/N, I hear youāve been helping out at a shelter?"
You nodded, barely meeting his eyes. āYeah, I volunteer with the dogs mostly. Itāsā¦nice to get away from all this sometimes.ā You forced a smile, trying to keep things polite. You could feel your fatherās gaze on you, watching for any misstep.
Clyde smiled back, but it felt too rehearsed. āWell, once weāre married, you wonāt have to worry about shelters or anything like that. Youāll have enough responsibilities as a Romano.ā
You felt your stomach twist at his words. Loganās gaze sharpened from across the room as he picked up on the slight shift in your expression. You shot him a quick look, your eyes pleading for any kind of rescue. Loganās jaw tightened, and for a brief moment, he almost looked like heād step in. But he stayed put, his hands clenched behind his back.
Instead, he looked for the smallest opening. Just as Clydeās attention was pulled away by his father, Logan slipped into view, leaning down beside you. āYou alright?ā he murmured, low enough that only you could hear.
āNot even close,ā you whispered back, your eyes fixed on your glass. āHeās already talking about our future like⦠like itās set in stone.ā
Loganās eyes flickered with something fierce. āWeāll get through this, Y/N. Tonightās just another show. Nothing more.ā His fingers brushed the back of your chair, the barely-there touch sending a wave of calm through you.
But Clydeās voice cut back in before Logan could say anything more. āY/N, we were thinking of heading to Italy for the honeymoon. Itāll be a good chance to meet the rest of the family there.ā
Your heart sank further. Italy. An entire ocean away, away from everything you knew, from everyone who mattered to you. āItaly,ā you echoed, your voice strained but steady.
āYeah. The Romano estates are beautifulābeaches, vineyards⦠a real paradise.ā He seemed oblivious to your hesitation, already dreaming up plans youād had no say in. Your father looked pleased, nodding his approval from his end of the table.
Logan straightened, but the look he gave you was unmistakable: You donāt have to do this.
You swallowed, shifting in your seat as Clyde rambled on. When his focus shifted to his own father again, you leaned back just enough to whisper to Logan, āIām not sure I can keep pretending.ā
Loganās expression softened, and for a second, he let a hint of his guard down. āYou donāt have to, darlinā.ā His voice was low, almost tender, meant for you alone. āSay the word, and we walk outta here. Right now.ā
The thought made your heart skip, but your gaze drifted toward your father, seated across the table with a look of satisfaction. Leaving wasnāt just about you; it would mean defying him, challenging the life heād molded for you. The thought felt like a mountain on your shoulders.
āI canāt just walk away,ā you said quietly. āHeās⦠heād never forgive me.ā
Loganās hand brushed yours under the table, a quiet show of support. āMaybe heās the one who should be asking for forgiveness,ā he murmured, his thumb tracing a light circle over your knuckles. The warmth of his touch settled something in you, steadying your breath.
You gave a tiny nod, squeezing his hand for just a second before pulling away. Logan straightened, stepping back to his post but still keeping his gaze on you. Clyde was oblivious, caught up in a conversation with his father about future business plans, each word feeling like a nail in the coffin.
Dinner dragged on, a blur of forced laughter and stiff conversation. Every time you felt yourself sinking, you looked toward Logan. He was there, solid and watchful, like a silent promise of something real in a room full of facades.
Eventually, the families began to wind down, talk shifting to more casual chatter. Clyde, emboldened by the nightās success, reached over and took your hand, his grip possessive. āSoon, youāll be part of the family, Y/N. Youāll see. Youāll come to love it.ā
Your mind screamed at the thought, every fiber of you wanting to pull away. But you held still, not daring to make a scene. Loganās gaze narrowed, his jaw set as he took in the sight of Clydeās hand around yours.
Finally, as the night came to an end and the families started to stand, Clyde leaned in with a smug smile. āReady to go? I thought weād take a walk, just the two of us.ā
Before you could answer, Logan was there, stepping in with a casual yet firm presence. āMr. Romano,ā he said, addressing Clyde but looking right at you, āyour father asked to speak with you in private before you head out.ā
Clyde frowned but nodded, reluctantly releasing your hand. āIāll be back soon, Y/N.ā He disappeared toward the far end of the room, leaving you alone with Logan.
You let out a slow breath, the tension finally loosening from your shoulders. āThank you,ā you whispered, looking up at him, gratitude spilling from every word.
Logan gave a slight nod. āCouldnāt let him drag you out there without a say.ā His voice was rough, but his eyes softened as he held your gaze. āYouāre not alone in this, Y/N. Whatever happens⦠you got me.ā
The weight of the night lifted just a little, and for a moment, you almost believed you had a choice in all of this.
---
āA week?ā you repeated, your voice barely above a whisper as you stood in your fatherās office. The weight of the word seemed to pull you under, even as you fought to keep your voice steady.
Your fatherās expression was impassive, arms crossed as he looked at you. āYes, Y/N. The Romano family wants to move quickly. They think itās best, and I agree. Itās time you take on this responsibility for the family.ā
Your jaw clenched. You remembered the promises he made, back when you were younger, that heād never force you into something like this. āI just⦠I donāt understand. You always saidāā
āPeople change, Y/N,ā he interrupted, his tone firm. āThis is whatās best for you and for us. For the family.ā
You shook your head, feeling a rush of helplessness. āAnd what about what I want? Iāve been trying to tell you for weeks that I donāt want this, and youāre not listening.ā
He exhaled sharply, the kind of sigh that signaled his patience was running thin. āThis isnāt about what you want. I didnāt raise you to be selfish.ā
āSelfish?ā The word stung, and you couldnāt help the surge of anger that rose within you. āIām asking for my life. How is that selfish?ā
He frowned, unyielding. āEnough, Y/N. This is happening. Weāre done discussing it.ā
Your breath hitched, but you forced yourself to stay composed. The walls of the office seemed to close in on you, the reality of it settling heavy and cold. You had a weekāseven daysāto either submit to this life heād chosen for you or⦠what? You didnāt even know.
Without another word, you turned and left, fighting the urge to slam the door behind you. The hall felt stifling as you walked out, your thoughts churning.
When you reached your room, Logan was there, waiting. The moment he saw your face, he stiffened. āWhat happened?ā His voice was a low rumble, the concern clear.
āA week,ā you whispered, barely able to meet his gaze. āI have a week before he marries me off to Clyde.ā
Loganās jaw tightened, and you could see the flash of anger in his eyes. He stepped closer, his hand moving to rest on your shoulder. āSo thatās it, then? Heās just⦠throwing you to that bastard?ā
You nodded, the words catching in your throat. āI donāt know what to do, Logan. I tried everything, but he wonāt listen. Heās set on it.ā
Loganās hand slipped down, finding yours and giving it a reassuring squeeze, his rough fingers warm and grounding. You tightened your grip, the frustration and helplessness boiling inside you finally having somewhere to go.
āIām supposed to just go along with it,ā you muttered, bitterness seeping into your words. āAct like Iām thrilled to be Clydeās obedient little wife. Like my lifeās just⦠his to take.ā
Loganās gaze darkened. āItās not. You know that. And anyone who tries to take it without your say? They got me to deal with.ā His voice was low and dangerous, a promise just for you.
You looked up, searching his face, a flicker of hope stirring. āBut what can we do, Logan? Heās not going to listen to me. And if I push back too hard⦠I donāt know what heāll do.ā
āThen let me get you out of here,ā Logan said, leaning in closer. His voice softened, gentler now. āWe can leave, right now if you want. Just say the word.ā
Your heart twisted painfully, the temptation so fierce you almost said yes then and there. But reality clawed its way back, the weight of your fatherās expectations and the tight grip he kept on every part of your life. Leaving would mean giving up everythingāand, deep down, you werenāt sure you could risk it.
āWhat about my dad?ā you whispered, feeling the weight of it pressing down again. āHeās⦠heād see it as betrayal, Logan. And what if he goes after you?ā
A flicker of something familiar crossed Loganās face, a shadow from a life you couldnāt remember but that he clearly did. āY/N, donāt worry about me,ā he murmured. āBeen through worse.ā He squeezed your hand a little tighter, his thumb brushing over your knuckles in a gesture so tender it nearly undid you. āAnd if heās got a problem, then he can take it up with me.ā
You let out a shaky breath, feeling the anger and fear give way just a bit. āYou say that now, but you havenāt seen how he gets when people cross him. Heād never forgive me, Logan. Heād never forgive us.ā
Loganās hand moved to cup your face, his touch steadying you as his eyes met yours. āThen we donāt need his forgiveness. We get you out, and I keep you safe. Whatever comes after, we face it together.ā
The fierce certainty in his voice sent a warmth flooding through you, your resolve hardening under his gaze. āBut Clyde, the Romanoās⦠they wonāt just let it go.ā
A smirk tugged at Loganās mouth, the edge of defiance clear. āThen theyāll learn what happens when they mess with you. Aināt nobodyās right to take away your freedom, Y/N. Not your old man, not Clyde, not anyone.ā
A beat of silence stretched between you, his hand still warm against your cheek. Your fingers tightened around his, and for a second, all the anger and dread faded, leaving just you and him in the quiet of the room.
āWhat about⦠us?ā The words slipped out before you could stop them, and for a second, you held your breath, waiting for his reaction.
Loganās eyes softened, his gaze never leaving yours. āWhat about us, darlinā?ā He brushed a thumb along your cheek, his voice dropping to a low murmur. āYou think Iād just leave you here to face this on your own?ā
His words sent a rush of warmth through you, and before you knew it, you were leaning into him, his presence steady and unshakable. He let out a low sigh, wrapping his arm around your shoulders and pulling you closer, his other hand tracing gentle circles over your back.
āYouāre all Iāve got in this,ā you whispered, feeling the tears prick at the corners of your eyes. āI canāt lose you, too.ā
āYou wonāt,ā he murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, his hold tightening just enough to reassure you. āNot now, not ever.ā
You stayed like that for a long moment, wrapped up in his embrace, the weight of everything slipping away in his arms. But eventually, reality crept back in, and you pulled back, catching the flicker of resolve in his gaze.
āIf we do thisā¦ā You paused, steadying yourself. āIf we leave, we need a plan.ā
Logan gave a small nod, his hand still resting on yours. āWeāll figure it out. Tonight, weāre just gettinā you through this.ā
It was a promise, simple and unbreakable, and for the first time in weeks, you felt a flicker of hope stirring deep inside you.
---
The rehearsal dinner was held in a private room at the church a few days later; a grand, echoing place with gilded walls and tall stained-glass windows that cast colored light over everything. Clyde, his parents, and your family were all gathered, discussing wedding arrangements like it was a done deal, each word chipping away at any illusion of control you had left.
Logan and the other bodyguards stood at a respectful distance, keeping watch. He tried to keep his gaze neutral, but his eyes lingered on you longer than necessary, catching every forced smile and stiff nod you gave.
As the minister went through the motions, you and Clyde practiced exchanging vows. You held his hands, repeating words that felt like a foreign languageālifeless, meaningless. Your eyes drifted toward Logan, and he gave you the barest nod, grounding you with that single, unspoken promise.
After the vows, Clyde leaned in close, his voice low and smug. āI think youāll come to love our life together, Y/N. Just give it time.ā
You forced a polite smile, biting back the words you wanted to say. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Logan clench his fists, his face darkening.
Finally, as the rehearsal ended and people began drifting off, you made your way to a quiet corner, needing a moment alone. Logan slipped over to you, his movements subtle as he came to stand beside you.
āAre you alright?ā he asked, his voice softer now that it was just the two of you.
You shook your head, feeling that familiar knot of dread twist tighter. āLogan, I donāt think I can go through with this. But I donāt know if I can run, either. Iām⦠ Iām stuck.ā
He took a deep breath, his gaze intense as he looked down at you. āWhat if I told you that you didnāt have to decide tonight?ā he asked quietly. āThat we could just⦠take it one day at a time. You donāt have to have all the answers right now.ā
The tension in your shoulders eased a bit, and you met his eyes, finding strength in the certainty there. He wasnāt pushing you, wasnāt forcing anything on you. He was just⦠here, with you, in whatever way you needed.
āOkay,ā you whispered, nodding slowly. āOne day at a time.ā
Logan gave a small, reassuring smile. āThatās all we need, darlinā.ā His hand brushed your shoulder, lingering just a second longer than necessary before he stepped back.
---
The day of the wedding had arrived, and you were dolled up, your makeup and hair were perfect, and your wedding dress was heavy, constricting, and large.
Once the makeup artists and hair stylists left, you had fled to the bathroom in the bridal suite and were currently hunched over the toilet. You hadnāt thrown upāyetābut you could feel the nausea and anxiousness rising.
You braced yourself against the counter, taking deep breaths as you tried to calm the twisting feeling in your stomach. The dress felt like a vice, heavy and restrictive, pressing on every nerve, suffocating in a way that went beyond fabric and lace. You squeezed your eyes shut, hoping the queasiness would pass.
A knock at the door pulled you from the spinning in your head.
āY/N?ā Nancyās soft, steady voice filtered through, full of that motherly concern youād come to rely on all your life.
You took a steadying breath, swallowing hard before calling out, āCome in, Nancy.ā
The door creaked open, and Nancy stepped inside, closing it quietly behind her. Her gaze immediately softened as she took in the look on your face, her expression a mix of sympathy and something elseāresolve, maybe.
āOh, cara mia,ā she murmured, reaching out to place a hand on your shoulder. āYou donāt look well. This whole businessāitās too much, isnāt it?ā
You managed a shaky nod. āI⦠I donāt know if I can do this, Nancy. Every time I think about it, I justā¦ā You trailed off, not sure how to put into words the suffocating dread that had settled over you.
She gave you a small, encouraging squeeze. āYou know,ā she said quietly, āthere are other paths besides the one your father chose for you. And you donāt have to walk it alone.ā
Your heart skipped at her words. āYou⦠youād help me? Even if Iā¦?ā
Nancy nodded, a spark of fierce protectiveness in her eyes. āLoganās already got your things in his car,ā she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. āIf youāre ready to go, heās waiting.ā
You blinked back tears before grabbing one of her hands, āy- you want me to go?ā
āSĆ. Your father is a bastardo, breaking that promise him and your mother made.ā She squeezed your hand, āLoganās a good man. Iāve seen the way he looks at you. He wonāt let you down.ā
You swallowed hard, Nancyās words settling like a quiet fire in your chest. She was right. Your father had broken his promise, and you didnāt owe him your life just because he controlled every other part of it.
With a shaky exhale, you gave her a nod. āAlright⦠Iāll go.ā
Nancyās face softened, relief mingling with pride. āGood girl. Now, take this.ā She pressed a small envelope into your hand. āCash. Just in case.ā
You looked down at it, blinking back tears. āThank you, Nancy. For everything.ā
She pulled you into a hug, her hand stroking your back gently. āGo, cara mia. Go live your life.ā She pulled back, eyes glinting with fierce determination. āAnd donāt look back.ā
You nodded, holding onto that resolve as you slipped out of the bathroom and made your way down the hall, heart pounding. Every step felt heavier, weighed down by fear and the voice in the back of your mind that told you this was dangerous, reckless. But when you stepped outside and saw Logan waiting by his car, the weight lifted.
He looked up, his gaze intense but soft, like heād been waiting for this moment just as long as you had. āYou ready?ā
You hesitated, just for a moment, before giving him a small nod. āYeah. Letās get out of here.ā
Logan opened the passenger door for you, helping you in, his hand lingering on yours for a second longer than necessary. He closed the door, then climbed into the driverās seat, starting the engine with a low rumble that matched the pulse pounding in your ears.
As he pulled out of the churchās parking lot, the weight of the decision hit you again. You were leaving everything behindāthe security, the expectations, the people whoād shaped your entire life. But with each passing second, the fear melted away, replaced by a strange, liberating sense of excitement.
Logan glanced over, noticing the small smile tugging at your lips. āYou donāt look so panicked now.ā
You shook your head, unable to hide your grin. āIām not. Not with you here.ā
He gave a soft chuckle, that familiar warmth in his gaze. āGood. Because weāve got a long drive ahead of us.ā
You settled back, feeling more at ease than youād felt in months. There was silence for a moment, comfortable and charged, before you turned to him, voice barely a whisper.
āWhere are we going?ā
Logan smirked. āAnywhere but here.ā
You laughed softly, relaxing into your seat. The road stretched ahead, open and endless, and for the first time in a long while, the future felt like something you could shape.
logan is 141 years old and reader is around 23-25 years old
what!? is that a happy ending? who would've thought... next up, is origins!
sorry if you did this one already, but showering with versions of logan headcanons?
Oo i have not!
Origins Logan -
Showering with him is a very intimate thing and its always after a long day of work. Heās all dirty and dusty from chopping trees and so he always takes a shower when he gets home. When you get to join him it's all cuddles and and sweet talking. His hands wandering and begging you to let him wash you because well, he had a long day and all he wants is to get to help clean his honey. It is just an excuse to feel you up but hey, you don't mind. Trying to get dressed after the shower with him around is another story. You have to send him out of the bathroom so you can put your clothes back on or else he's gonna be whining and pouting in the mirror. You do tend to steal his already worn flannels though because they smell like him and he loves it.
Trilogy Logan -
He is a fucking menace. Absolute fucking menace oh my god you are getting nothing done in that shower. It starts innocent enough. You come back from an exhausting mission and you really need to shower and sleep and Logan is right behind you trailing like a dog. Following you all the way to your bathroom and begging to shower with you with those big hazel eyes. You just roll your eyes and start to strip and he follows suit. He cannot keep his hands off you. He wants to do everything. Wash your hair, wash your body, push you against the wall and make out. You know, typical shower things. When you tell him you actually want to be clean he gets sooo pouty. You're literally standing here naked and wet and soapy and you expect him NOT to do something about it?? You quite literally use up all the hot water by spending way too much time in the shower. His fault and he'll admit it. Once you get out it takes some convincing but he does get you to just go to bed without getting into pajamas which he'll take.
DOFP Logan -
Look they're all fucking menaces alright and though this Logan is older and a little wiser he's just as pervy when it comes to you. He's the guy to hear you start the shower from like 3 floors down and hurry up the stairs so he can slip in and join you. One minute your scrubbing your body and the next Logan has taken the loofa out of your hand and replaced it with his own two hands. Doesn't matter what time or when he will jump in the shower with you. It's really cute but sometimes you are in a hurry and Logan adds about 20 minutes to your shower. Sometimes if you really need to make it quick you tell him to stay out and he gets all huffy. The best showers are the ones where he can really take his time. Kissing you and spending all the time in the world just loving on you. He promises to keep you warm when the water gets cold and makes good on it when he presses you against the glass with his very warm body.
Old Man Logan -
Showering with him is much more intimate than with any of the other Logans. He's very vulnerable at this point, exposing all his scars and tired worn down body to you. He knows he doesn't look like he used to and sometimes it gets to him. The shower is the moment you get to show each other how much you really love him. Washing each other and being close and just getting to be with him. His rough hands do their best to be gentle. It's just really sweet. Plus...Logan is still really hot so.
Worst Logan -
The shower is kind of the only place the two of you can get any peace and even then Logan has to barricade the door so Wade can't just show up unannounced. Like he's done before. Multiple times. He's flirty and also kinda pervy. His hands slipping every where and he's taking advantage of having you all to himself. Totally picks you up and presses you against the wall with the hot water running down his back and he's kissing you everywhere he can and he's mumbling about how that asshole can't interrupt him now. Safe to say you don't come out of the bathroom for a while.
How does he handle (you're totally oblivious and innocent when this other man comes on to you, Logan's your one and only) other men flirting with you and his jealousy?
Hehe more jealousy stuff I love it
Origins Logan -
He hates ittt. Heās already this close to punching one of the assholes he works with because they keep making comments about you when you drop him off from work. In fact thats where i see this happening. Logan forgets his lunch and being the sweet partner u are u come and bring it to him. Heās out when you show up and some dick head new hire doesn't know that you're Logan's so he tries to flirt with you and you're completely oblivious and just think he's being nice. Oh man when Logan comes back he is pissed off. He literally grabs this boy by the back of his shirt and yanks him away from you and taking his place. He doesn't care if the other guy falls or what because you're here and he was talking to you. You scold him a little bit but he just smiles and wraps his arm around you, taking you back to the truck so you can eat lunch together. You tell him all about your day and he just listens. Next time you come around, Logan has made sure that every man knows not to even look at you unless they wanna go through him first.
Trilogy Logan -
Oh he is such a jerk and not to you but to whoever tried to flirt with you. It's a little embarrassing but it's also kinda cute seeing him get all protective. He stands a little taller and makes snippy comments and jokes towards them. Okay so like. There's a new mutant and he's around your age and much too flirty for Logan's liking. Logan def stands really close to you at all times and really likes it when you got his scent on you from sleeping in his bed or using his shampoo. But this asshole isn't taking the hint and keeps trying to flirt with you. I could imagine Logan testing him a little harder in the danger room and when you scold him about it he denies all accusations. He's not trying to get him hurt he's trying to see how he would handle dangerous situations. Doesn't matter that Logan turned the intensity up a few notches and it was only that guy in the room. Logan even offers to spar with him but he declines. After that Logan notices that he's left you alone and he's more smug than usual.
DOFP Logan -
Okay this one I think is the funniest of them all. So there's this new student teacher and he's been assigned to your class and Logan hates it because this little prick is taking up all your time. He brings you coffee in the mornings when Logan should be doing that. He doesn't even make it right but you're too nice to correct him. Look Logan doesn't blame the guy for being attracted to you because you're the hottest person in this mansion but you're his and no one else. I think he gets all grumpy about it. He's meaner in class and harsher when he grades and all his students know he's jealous but he refuses to admit it. So they come to you and beg for your help because you're the only one he listens to. You tease him a lot for being jealous because its so cute seeing him pretend not to be annoyed at your new coworker. Of course you reassure him that he's the only one you love and maybe spend a very long night showing him just that oop. The next morning when that other guy tries to bring you coffee Logan is already sitting on your desk sipping his own while you're drinking the one he made for you. A smirk on his face as he sees that boy clock the hickeys on your neck that you tried to cover up.
Old Man Logan -
He's the most sulky out of all of them tbh. He knows he's old and mean and way past his prime so when he sees someone flirting with you as you serve them coffee he just kinda gets all sad. Like he's weighing you down and you could be doing so much more with you life than be with him. He doesn't get upset he just gets jealous and already convinces himself that its better if you go off with this other guy. Of course you have to slap some damn sense into him and how he's being ridiculous. He's got a lot of demons inside of him and it's not easy for you to chase them away but you try your best and all you ask of him is to not give up on you and your relationship so easily.
Worst Logan -
He's like. Half sulking and half raging jealous. He's insecure about his past and how you view him as a person so when he sees someone making you laugh and being flirty at one of Wade's parties it can be a blow to his self esteem. He doesn't want it to affect him as much as it does so he tries to pretend it doesn't bother him but it does and you know it. I think he'd be standing across the room giving this guy a death stare when Wade comes up and makes a couple jokes just to rile him up a little. His poking works because Logan def comes over and steals you away just because he can't take watching you laugh at a joke that isn't his. You find it adorable and tease him about it but also tell him that no one else has your heart but him.
hello fay! i saw you were reading my i love you, in every time series, and i just wanted to say thank you for reading and reblogging!! i look forward to see how you feel about the rest of the series!
here's a logan for your troubles, xoxo
ahhh hii!! i am loving this series!! i was looking for a long angsty fic and this one is just perfect š„¹ thank you sm for sharing it with the world i canāt wait to read the rest of it š¤š©·š©·
and the gif omg thank you for blessing my eyes š« š®āšØ
i love you, in every time ąæā§ā 1943 - wounds and whispers
chapter summary: After an attack on the battlefield, Logan wakes up to you as his nurse in Italy during World War 2.
word count: 8.8k+
pairing: Logan Howlett x fem!reader
notes: this one is short, and the ending is a bit abrupt, but i kind of wanted it to be that way- war is unpredictable. also, the ending is a tad bit different from the other endings, you'll see when you read! anyways, next chapter is when things get a little bit more interesting...
warnings/tags: mentions of injuries, fluff, angst, war, character death(s)
series masterlist - chapter 3 ā chapter 5
A mere 43 years later and Logan was already in his second war since you died that last time. Part of him almost wished that he could die, maybe then heād see you and get to hold you forever. But that just wasnāt in the cards for him; not when he had this healing, not when he was already 111 years old.
Logan's mind was swimming in a fog of pain as consciousness crept back in. The last thing he remembered was the deafening blast of gunfire and the sharp, searing pain that tore through his side as he charged forward in the midst of the chaos. War was hell, and heād been through more than enough of them to know that. But thisāthis felt different.
His eyes fluttered open, the bright lights overhead blinding him for a moment as he groaned, trying to push himself up. His muscles screamed in protest, his entire body feeling like it had been torn apart and put back together again.
āEasy there, soldier.ā
The voice was soft but firm, and it froze him in place. Loganās heart skipped a beat, recognition flooding through him even though he knew it wasnāt possible. His vision focused, and then he saw you. Standing right over him, your face illuminated by the dim lights of the field hospital.
It was you.
Loganās breath hitched, his mind spinning. Heād seen you dieāheād held you in his arms not long before everything faded. The memory of that night, the pain in your eyes, the blood pooling beneath youāit was burned into him. Heād lost you again. But now here you were, alive, standing in front of him like nothing had ever happened.
His throat tightened, but he forced himself to speak. āY/N?ā You probably didnāt hear him, given the quiet tone of his voice.
You smiled softly, stepping closer to him, your hands working with practiced care to check his wounds. āYouāre lucky, you know,ā you said, ignoring the way he looked at you, as if he'd seen a ghost. āThe shrapnel didnāt hit anything vital. Youāll live.ā
Logan swallowed hard, his eyes never leaving yours. He felt a pull, the same pull heād felt every time he met you in a different life. But this time, it hurt even more. Because this was the first time heād seen you since the last time you died, and now, here you were, again, as if the universe had decided to toy with him once more.
āY/Nā¦ā he whispered again, his voice rough with emotion.
You glanced at him, your brows knitting together in confusion. āHow do you know my name?ā
Logan hesitated, his heart pounding. He couldnāt tell youānot yet. Not about the lives youād lived before, not about the times heād watched you die. He had to keep it together. You didnāt remember him, and that was both a blessing and a curse.
He cleared his throat, managing a tight smile. āLucky guess,ā he said, his voice strained, trying to mask the tidal wave of emotion crashing through him.
You gave him a curious look but didnāt press further. āWell, lucky or not, you should be more careful out there,ā you said, turning your attention back to bandaging him up. āYouāre not invincible, even if you act like it.ā
Logan nearly chuckled at that. If only you knew. But instead, he gritted his teeth as you finished patching him up. The pain from the wound was nothing compared to the ache in his chest. Heād spent so many lifetimes with you, always losing you too soon. Always feeling like there wasnāt enough time.
And now, here you were again, standing so close to him, your hands gentle as you worked. He clenched his jaw, his mind racing with memories of youāof your smile, your laugh, the way youād always found him, no matter the time or place.
But this wasnāt the past. This was 1943, and you didnāt know him. He had to play it cool, keep his distance, even though every instinct in him was screaming to reach out and hold you, to make sure you didnāt slip away again.
āThanks,ā he muttered, trying to keep his voice steady.
You gave him a small nod, satisfied with your work. āWell, youāre still not cleared to leave yet, so youāre not gonna get away from me that easily.ā You grabbed a small flashlight from your pocket and leaned in a little closer, shining it into his eyes to check his pupils.
Logan grunted, feeling the warmth of your proximity. It was almost unbearable how familiar you felt, even though you didnāt know himāat least not in this lifetime. His eyes followed your movements, the way you focused on him like he was just another soldier you had to patch up. But to him, you were everything.
āYou know,ā you started, your voice calm but a little teasing, āyou really shouldnāt be throwing yourself into the line of fire like that. Kinda hard for us to patch you up if you donāt have any parts left.ā
Logan gave a low chuckle, though his heart wasnāt in it. āIāll heal,ā he muttered, more to himself than to you. His voice was rougher than usual, like the words were struggling to get past the weight of seeing you again, alive and breathing.
You raised an eyebrow at him. āHeal, huh? Well, youāre not invincible, soldier. Trust me, Iāve seen men think theyāre untouchable, and they donāt last long in a place like this.ā
Logan looked away, trying to focus on anything other than the sound of your voice. He didnāt want to make this harder on himself than it already was. āGuess Iāll just have to be more careful, then.ā
You chuckled softly, finishing your check-up and tucking the flashlight back into your pocket. āYeah, you do that.ā There was a hint of amusement in your tone, but you were still clearly all business. āNow,ā you looked at a clipboard in your hands, āJames, you have a different name youād like to go by?ā
Logan grunted, his gaze fixed on you. The name āJamesā felt foreign now, like a remnant of a past he didn't quite belong to anymore. His eyes flickered to the clipboard, then back to your face. The memories of every life you'd lived flashed through his mind, each one ending the same way, with you slipping away from him.
āLogan,ā he said, his voice a bit rougher than he intended.
You looked up, scribbling something down. āLogan, huh?ā You nodded, writing it down. āSuits you better than James⦠I think.ā
Logan gave a small grunt, a mix of acknowledgment and the emotions he was keeping buried. He couldnāt tell you how much it hurt hearing you say his name, knowing you didnāt remember him at all. Every time he heard your voice, it was like a punch to the gutāa reminder that no matter how many times you came back, he was always starting over, and you⦠you were always slipping away.
āGlad you approve,ā Logan muttered, his eyes drifting away from you. He was trying hard not to stare, trying not to let the overwhelming rush of memories take over. You looked the same, almost exactly as you had the last timeābefore George pulled that damn trigger.
You didnāt seem to notice the tension radiating from him, too focused on the task at hand. āWell, Logan,ā you said, setting the clipboard aside. āYouāll need to stay here for observation, at least for the night. Make sure your bodyās handling the recovery properly. Weāve seen some soldiers who think theyāre fine, and thenāā You made a gesture, mimicking someone fainting, a half-smile tugging at your lips.
Loganās eyes flicked to the floor, suppressing the mix of emotions threatening to boil over. That small smileāthe one you always had, no matter how many lives you livedāwas painfully familiar. Each time, the same softness, the same warmth. But this time, it cut deeper because he knew how this would end. Youād be gone. Again.
āYouāre real good at this, arenāt ya?ā Logan said, his voice low, trying to sound casual despite the weight of everything between you two, or at least, everything he carried alone.
You shrugged, your smile widening just a little. āIāve had a lot of practice lately. War isnāt exactly kind to anyone.ā Your eyes softened for a moment, like you were remembering someone, but you shook it off, standing straighter. āBut, yeah. Itās what I do.ā
Loganās jaw tightened as he fought the urge to tell you everything, to scream at the universe for pulling you into his life only to tear you away. But he couldnāt. Not this time. He had to play along, had to act like this was the first time heād ever met you.
He nodded, letting out a deep breath. āGuess weāre both used to it, then. War and all.ā
You glanced at him, curiosity flickering in your eyes. āYeah?ā There was a pause as you sat down on the edge of the bed next to him. āYou seem⦠different from the other soldiers Iāve patched up. Seen a lot, huh?ā
Logan leaned back slightly, his hand brushing against the place where the ring still rested in his pocket. He hadnāt taken it out in years. āMore than youād believe.ā
There was a quiet moment between you, your gaze lingering on him as if trying to figure him out. āWell,ā you said, breaking the silence, āletās hope you donāt add anything else to that list while youāre here.ā
Logan couldnāt help the bitter chuckle that escaped his throat. If only you knew what was on that list already. If only he could tell you how many times heād seen you die, how many times heād watched your life slip through his fingers. But instead, he just nodded again.
āIāll try,ā he muttered, though the words felt hollow.
As you stood up, preparing to check on the next patient, you paused, glancing back at him. There was something in your eyes, something almost familiar. But then, you smiled againākind, unaware of the history Logan held with youāand walked away, leaving him alone with his thoughts.
Logan exhaled slowly, the ache in his chest growing heavier. He had to stay strong, had to keep his distance. But deep down, he knew he was already caught, already tangled in the same painful cycle.
He slipped his hand into his pocket, fingers brushing against the smooth surface of the engagement ring heād never had the chance to give you.
Maybe this time, he thought. Maybe this time, youād survive.
But Logan knew better than to hope.
---
You checked in with one of the doctors when Sandra, your friend and fellow nurse, put a hand on your shoulder and turned you to face her.
āDoes he have a nice voice?ā
You snorted, shaking your head at Sandra. "A nice voice? Thatās what you want to ask?ā
Sandra grinned, unbothered by your sarcasm. āWell, I saw the way you were looking at him. Thought maybe he had some mysterious, deep, soldier-thing going on.ā
Rolling your eyes, you grabbed a clipboard from the nearby desk. āHeās just a patient, Sandra.ā
āUh-huh, sure.ā Sandra leaned in, lowering her voice. āYou didnāt exactly hurry out of that room.ā
You shot her a look. āI was doing my job.ā
āMmhmm,ā she hummed, clearly not buying it. āSo... does he?ā
You sighed, unable to stop a small smile from creeping onto your face. āYeah, okay. Maybe a little. Heās got that gruff, low thing going on.ā
āI knew it!ā Sandra nudged your shoulder, her expression smug. āYouāre into the mysterious types.ā
āOh, come on,ā you muttered, flipping through the papers on your clipboard, though none of it really held your focus. Your mind drifted back to Loganās faceāhis eyes, the way he carried himself like the weight of the world rested on his shoulders. There was something about him, something that felt... familiar. But you brushed it off. That wasnāt possible.
āIām not into anyone,ā you said quickly, snapping back to reality. āEspecially not a guy Iāve known for like five minutes.ā
Sandra raised her hands in surrender, smirking. āAlright, alright. Iāll drop it.ā But the teasing gleam in her eyes suggested she wasnāt done with the subject.
You gave her a half-hearted glare before heading off to check on another patient. But as much as you tried to focus, your thoughts kept drifting back to Logan. The way his voice had this gravelly edge to it, how it felt like he was holding something back every time he spoke. And then there was the way he looked at youālike he recognized you, like you were someone important.
But that couldnāt be right.
---
You came to check on Logan later that night before youād head back to your quarters for some rest. The makeshift hospital was quieter now, just a few murmurs from patients in the distance. Your shift had been long, draining, but something about checking on Logan felt... different.
You pushed the door open, stepping into the dimly lit room. Logan was sitting up on the bed, his expression unreadable as he stared at the floor. His posture was tense, like he was carrying the weight of more than just a few injuries.
āHowāre you feeling?ā you asked softly, keeping your tone professional despite the strange pull you felt toward him.
Logan looked up at you, his eyes locking onto yours for a moment that seemed to stretch longer than it should. āBetter. You know, thanks to you.ā
You gave a small smile, stepping closer to the bed. āIām just doing my job.ā
āYeah,ā he muttered, his gaze drifting back to the floor. āStill, youāre good at it.ā
There was that same heaviness in his voice, like he was holding back more than just gratitude. You couldnāt put your finger on it, but something about him felt... familiar. It was strange, like you knew him somehow, but you brushed the thought away.
āYou should get some rest,ā you said, checking the bandage on his side. Your fingertips lingered on the spot where the bloody wound had been earlier, but there was nothingājust smooth skin, as if it had never been there at all. Your brow furrowed, lips parting slightly in disbelief. Youād seen the gash when theyād brought him in, deep and ugly, impossible to heal so quickly.
Loganās muscles tensed under your touch, and when you glanced at him, his expression was guarded, like he was bracing for something.
"Thatās... impossible," you murmured, more to yourself than to him. "It was bad earlier. There should at least be... a scar."
Logan shrugged, trying to act indifferent, but the movement was stiff. "Guess I got lucky."
You pulled your hand back slowly, still frowning. āLucky doesnāt cover it. Iāve never seen anyone heal like that.ā You tilted your head, curiosity edging into your voice. āHow?ā
His jaw tightened. "It happens."
āThatās not much of an answer.ā Your arms crossed over your chest, and the edge in your tone softened just a bit. āYouāve got to admit itās... weird.ā
Logan gave you a look, one that made you feel like he was sizing you up, trying to figure out how much he could say. Or maybe how little. "Weird, yeah," he muttered, voice low. "Not much I can do about it, though."
You knew a deflection when you heard one, but you let it goāfor now. You werenāt sure why you felt compelled to trust him, but there was something in his eyes, in the way he spoke, that made it impossible not to.
Sitting down on the edge of his bed, you shook your head with a faint smile. "Well, however it happened, youāre lucky I didnāt call the doctors in to see this miracle." You gave him a teasing look. āYouād be their new favorite science project.ā
A ghost of a grin tugged at the corner of Loganās mouth, but it didnāt quite reach his eyes. "Yeah, Iād rather avoid that."
For a moment, the two of you sat in silence. It should have been awkward, but it wasnāt. There was something strangely easy about being near him, like youād known each other for years. You glanced at his handsārough, calloused, like theyād seen more battles than you could imagineāand wondered just how much heād been through.
"Why do I feel like thereās more to you than youāre letting on?" you asked softly.
Loganās gaze flicked to yours, something unreadable in his expression. "You ever meet someone and feel like youāve known āem before?"
His words struck a nerve, sending a chill down your spine. You swallowed, the strange familiarity between you two suddenly harder to ignore. "Yeah... I guess I have."
Logan nodded, his gaze dropping to his hands. He rubbed his thumb against the curve of his knuckleāa nervous habit, maybe. Or just old memories surfacing.
"You should get some rest," you said quietly, almost reluctantly. It felt wrong to leave, like there was more to say, even if you didnāt know what.
"Iām not good at rest," Logan admitted, voice low.
You gave a soft laugh. "No one is these days."
As you stood up, Loganās hand moved slightlyājust enough that the tips of his fingers brushed yours, barely a touch but enough to make your heart skip. You looked down at him, surprised by how natural it felt, like youād been standing this close to him a thousand times before.
For a moment, it seemed like Logan might say somethingāsomething important. His hand hovered near his pocket, where a small, heavy object pressed against the fabric. But then he stopped himself, his jaw clenching as if heād changed his mind at the last second.
"Goodnight," you whispered, your voice softer than before.
Logan gave you a short nod, but his eyes followed you as you stepped away, like he was memorizing the momentālike it might slip away from him if he looked away for even a second.
---
The next morning, when you went to check on Logan, he was sitting on the edge of his bed, buttoning up his shirt over his white beater.
āHeyāwait.ā You stepped in front of Logan, your hands instinctively finding his forearm as he finished buttoning his shirt. āYouāre not cleared to leave yet.ā
Loganās eyes flicked to yours, and for a moment, something passed between youālike the echo of a memory, distant but familiar. He gave you a half-smile, the kind that looked more like a grimace, and kept working on the last button.
āGotta go,ā he muttered. āDonāt do well sittinā still.ā
You crossed your arms, not budging. āDoesnāt mean you get to walk out of here half-healed.ā
His gaze darkened, jaw clenching as if biting back words. You could tell he didnāt like being told what to do, but there was something more in his expressionāsomething haunted, buried beneath that tough exterior.
āYou think I canāt handle it?ā he asked, voice low, gravelly.
āItās not about what you can handle.ā Your eyes softened, a hint of frustration slipping through. āItās about whatās smart. Iāve patched up enough soldiers to know that leavinā too soon isnāt.ā
Loganās lips twitched, like he might argue, but then he stilled, studying you with a strange intensity. The weight of his stare made your breath hitch for a second, but you refused to back down.
āStay,ā you insisted. āAt least for another day. Let the wound close properly.ā
He exhaled sharply through his nose, like it was more trouble than it was worth to argue with you. āYou always this stubborn?ā
A smile tugged at your lips. āYeah. Part of the charm.ā
Logan huffed, a reluctant laugh buried somewhere in the sound. He leaned forward slightly, his knees brushing yours where you stood between his legs. The air felt heavierācharged with something neither of you could quite name.
āY/N...ā The way your name left his mouth was different. Familiar, almost reverent, like he was tasting the sound of it after a long time.
Your heart stuttered in your chest. āWhat?ā
Loganās hand drifted toward his pocket, hesitating just for a beat. He seemed to think better of it and instead leaned back, propping himself on his palms like he was trying to keep his distance.
āNothing.ā His tone was gruff, evasive, but you knew there was more he wasnāt saying.
You stayed where you were, close enough to feel the warmth of him. āYouāre not really going to leave, are you?ā
Loganās lips pressed into a thin line. āShouldnāt stick around too long.ā
āWhy not?ā
He ran a hand through his dark hair, frustrated. āI just shouldnāt.ā
The words hit you harder than you expected, like they carried the weight of something unsaidāsomething important. But before you could push further, Logan shifted on the bed, brushing past you as if putting space between you would make it easier.
āLook...ā His voice softened just slightly, almost apologetic. āYou shouldnāt worry about me. Iāve been through worse.ā
You tilted your head, watching him carefully. āMaybe. But that doesnāt mean you have to go through this alone.ā
Loganās gaze flicked to yours, and for a moment, the walls he kept up seemed to crack, just a little. He looked at you like you were someone he wanted to hold onto, but couldnātālike youād slip through his fingers if he let himself get too close.
You leaned in just a bit, your voice barely above a whisper. āLet me help, Logan.ā
The way his name fell from your lips sent a flicker of something through himāsomething dangerous, vulnerable, like it meant too much. His breath hitched, and for a second, you thought he might tell you whatever he was holding back.
But instead, he gave you a tight smile, one that didnāt quite reach his eyes. āYou already have.ā
It felt like the conversation was teetering on the edge of something, but neither of you were ready to tip it over just yet.
āYou win,ā he muttered finally, his tone rough but resigned. āIāll stay... one more day.ā
You grinned, victorious. āGood. Iāll hold you to that. Maybe Iāll even let ya accompany me to the mess tent for lunch.ā You held up a finger, playful but firm. āBut only if youāre good.ā
Logan gave a soft huff, the closest thing to a laugh youād gotten out of him all day. āYou makinā the rules now?ā
āThatās right,ā you said with a smirk. āI am the nurse, after all.ā
He shook his head, amused despite himself. āFair enough.ā
You lingered a moment longer than necessary, and Logan didnāt move away. His hand twitched near his knee, like he was thinking about reaching for you. It wasnāt the kind of gesture that strangers madeāit felt too familiar, too intimate, like muscle memory.
āSee ya at lunch, then,ā you murmured, trying to shake off the strange pull toward him.
Logan gave a small nod, but his gaze stayed on you as you turned toward the door. Just as you reached it, you glanced back over your shoulder.
āYou better not sneak out while Iām gone,ā you teased, though part of you wasnāt sure it was really a joke.
Loganās lips quirked at the corner, but the look in his eyes was heavy, weighed down with something you couldnāt quite place. āWouldnāt dream of it.ā
---
By the time lunch rolled around, you were half-expecting Logan to be goneāoff on some stubborn mission to leave the hospital before you could stop him. But when you returned, there he was, sitting up on the bed and rolling the sleeves of his shirt to his forearms.
"Kept my end of the bargain," he said, giving you a crooked grin that was more shadow than smile.
āGuess that means you earned lunch.ā You gestured toward the door, and Logan pushed himself off the bed with an ease that didnāt match the severity of the injury he'd arrived with. You gave him a skeptical glance but decided to let it slideāfor now.
The two of you walked through the makeshift hospital in comfortable silence. You noticed how other soldiers gave him nods or muttered greetings in passing, even though none of them really knew him. Something about Logan just demanded respectāmaybe it was the way he carried himself, or the way his eyes seemed to see right through you.
At the mess tent, you grabbed two metal trays, handing one to him. āHope youāre not picky. The foodās... not exactly five-star.ā
Logan smirked. āIāve had worse.ā
You sat together at a small table, away from the loudest group of soldiers. For a moment, it was almost peaceful, like the war outside didnāt exist. Logan picked at his food absently, and you couldnāt help but study himāhow his hands moved, how his jaw clenched like he was always bracing for bad news.
āSo... youāve done this before?ā you asked, breaking the quiet. āThe soldier thing, I mean.ā
Logan glanced at you, something flickering in his expression. āYeah. A few times.ā
A few times. The way he said it made it sound like more than just a couple of tours.
āMustāve been rough,ā you murmured, stirring your soup. āI canāt imagine coming back to it over and over.ā
Loganās gaze lingered on you, and for a second, you felt pinned under the weight of it. Like he knew something you didnāt. āYou get used to it,ā he muttered, but the sadness in his voice told a different story.
There was a beat of silence, and then you leaned forward slightly, your curiosity getting the better of you. āYou ever... think about what youād do, you know, if you werenāt here? If the war wasnāt happening?ā
Logan stared at his tray, his jaw tightening like he was biting back something painful. āYeah,ā he said quietly. āOnce or twice.ā
The way he said it made your chest ache, and before you could stop yourself, you asked, āWhat would you do?ā
Loganās thumb brushed along the edge of his trayāa nervous habit, like he was weighing whether to tell you the truth. āThereās someone,ā he said slowly. āSomeone I thought about settlinā down with... a long time ago.ā
You blinked, surprised by the sudden vulnerability in his voice. āWhat happened?ā
Logan looked away, his expression hardening like a door slamming shut. āDidnāt work out.ā
It wasnāt the whole storyāyou could tell that much. But you didnāt push. There was something in the way he said it, like the loss was still raw, even if it had happened years ago.
āIām sorry,ā you whispered, unsure why you felt the need to say it.
Logan gave a small shrug, like it didnāt matter. But you knew better. It did matter. It mattered a lot.
---
After lunch, the two of you lingered outside the tent, neither of you in a rush to return to the chaos inside. The sun was warm on your face, a rare moment of peace in a world that had been anything but peaceful lately.
āYouāre not what I expected,ā you said suddenly, glancing at Logan.
He raised an eyebrow. āWhatād you expect?ā
You shrugged, smiling. āI donāt know. Maybe someone more... closed off. But youāre not as much of a mystery as you think.ā
Logan chuckled, but there was no humor in it. āYouād be surprised.ā
You bit your lip, studying him. āYou feel... familiar,ā you admitted, the words slipping out before you could stop them. āLike weāve met before.ā
Logan went still, his expression unreadable. For a moment, you thought he might brush it off with some sarcastic comment. But instead, he looked at you with that same haunted expression youād seen earlierāthe one that made your chest tighten.
āMaybe we have,ā he said quietly, almost to himself.
The words sent a strange chill down your spine. You stared at him, trying to piece together what he meant. But Logan didnāt offer any more answers. He just stood there, watching you like he was waiting for something.
Before you could ask, Sandraās voice called from the distance, snapping you both out of the moment. āY/N! Doctorās looking for you.ā
You sighed, giving Logan a small, reluctant smile. āDuty calls.ā
Logan nodded, slipping his hands into his pockets. āYeah. Better get to it.ā
You hesitated for just a second longer, something inside you screaming that there was more to thisāmore to him. But instead, you gave him one last smile before turning away.
---
When Logan was alone again, he pulled the ring from his pocket, turning it over in his fingers. The weight of it was familiar, comforting in a way that only hurt more now.
Heād carried it through battles, through lifetimes, always hopingāmaybe this time. But hope had a way of slipping through his fingers, just like you always did.
Logan clenched the ring in his fist, his jaw tightening. He knew better than to hope. He always did. But still... here you were.
For now, at least.
---
The next day you begrudgingly cleared Logan and showed him to where he would be staying before he got called away for another fight. It was a small quarters, shared with some of the other guys, but it was better than the hospital bed.
You should know. Sometimes youāve taken power naps on those bedsāwhen the hospital got too busy or you needed a break but couldnāt leave. They were uncomfortable as hell, but after long hours, you didnāt have much choice.
Logan tossed his bag on the bunk, eyeing the cramped quarters. It wasnāt muchājust a room with a few cots and a flimsy curtain dividing it from the rest of the barracksābut he didnāt seem to care.
āYouāll be all right here,ā you said, crossing your arms and leaning against the doorframe.
Logan smirked, glancing at the bed like it was just another obstacle in his way. āIāve had worse.ā
You gave him a sideways glance, shaking your head slightly. āYeah, Iām starting to see a pattern with you.ā
He chuckled, low and gravelly, the sound doing strange things to your heart. His presence was so... solid. Like heād been through hell and back, yet here he was, standing in front of you like nothing could break him.
āWell, donāt get too comfortable,ā you added with a smirk. āThereās always a chance youāll end up back in the infirmary if youāre not careful.ā
Logan raised an eyebrow, leaning back against the wall, his arms crossing over his chest in a way that made the muscles in his forearms flex under his rolled-up sleeves. āYou worried about me, nurse?ā
āMaybe I am,ā you teased, keeping it light even though part of you was serious. āI donāt want to have to stitch you back up.ā
He laughed again, softer this time, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer than just casual. āDonāt worry about me. Iāll heal.ā
The words hung between you, something unspoken settling in. There was always something deeper with Logan, like the surface of his words barely scratched at the things he carried underneath.
Before you could respond, a couple of soldiers passed by, giving Logan nods of acknowledgment as they went. You noticed the way they looked at him, like he was someone whoād earned their respect without even trying.
Logan pushed off the wall, moving past you toward the door. āThanks for the room,ā he said, glancing over his shoulder. āBut I could use a drink.ā
You laughed. āWell, good luck with that. This isnāt exactly the Ritz.ā
He stopped just outside the door, turning back to you. His eyes were sharp, but there was something softer underneath. āYou wanna join me?ā
You paused, surprised by the offer. āAre you askinā me out, Logan?ā
His lips twitched into a half-smile. āJust tryinā to be friendly.ā
You let out a small huff of laughter, shaking your head as you grabbed your cap and followed him. āFine. But if youāre looking for whiskey, youāre gonna be disappointed.ā
The two of you walked in comfortable silence for a while, the sound of your boots crunching on the gravel road filling the air. The base had quieted down a bit as the sun dipped lower, the day easing into a calm that didnāt come often in a warzone.
As you walked, you couldnāt help but sneak a glance at Logan from time to time, trying to figure him out. He was so... different. From anyone youād met. From any soldier youād treated. And yet, he felt so familiar.
You found a small spot near one of the mess tents where a few crates had been stacked up like makeshift seats. Logan grabbed a canteen from his jacket, unscrewing the cap before taking a long drink. You raised an eyebrow at him.
āThat better be water,ā you joked, taking a seat beside him.
Logan handed you the canteen, smirking. āTry it and find out.ā
You took a cautious sip, then immediately coughed, the burn of the alcohol catching you off guard. āGodāwhat is this?ā
āSomething I picked up,ā Logan said, eyes gleaming with amusement as you wiped your mouth. āFigured itād help take the edge off.ā
You gave him a playful glare, handing the canteen back. āNext time, a little warning, maybe?ā
Logan shrugged, grinning. āWhereās the fun in that?ā
You shook your head, smiling despite yourself. āYouāre trouble, Logan.ā
He chuckled, leaning back against the crate. āBeen called worse.ā
The two of you sat there in comfortable silence for a few moments, passing the canteen back and forth. The alcohol burned, but it wasnāt the worst thing youād ever tastedānot by a long shot. And it did what Logan said it wouldāit took the edge off.
You studied him for a moment, the way he seemed to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders, even when he was sitting still. āYou feel familiar,ā you said quietly, your voice almost drowned out by the soft sounds of the base around you. āLike weāve met before.ā
Loganās expression shiftedājust for a second. His jaw tightened, his gaze flickering away from you and toward the horizon. āMaybe we have,ā he murmured, his voice so low you almost didnāt catch it.
The words sent a strange, unexplainable shiver down your spine. You opened your mouth to ask him what he meant, but before you could, he stood up, stretching his arms over his head like he was shaking something off.
āCāmon,ā he said, his voice lighter now, almost like he was forcing it. āYou ready to head back?ā
You blinked, still caught in the haze of the moment. But you nodded, standing up and brushing the dirt from your uniform. āYeah, I guess so.ā
The two of you walked back toward the barracks in silence, the air between you feeling heavier now. Something had shiftedāsomething you couldnāt quite put your finger on. But you knew it wasnāt nothing.
When you reached the barracks, Logan stopped at the door, turning to look at you with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat.
āY/N,ā he started, his voice rougher than usual, like he was wrestling with something inside him. āIf... if things ever get bad, you find me. Got it?ā
You frowned, surprised by the seriousness in his tone. āLogan, whatāā
āIām serious,ā he interrupted, his hazel eyes locking onto yours. āYou find me. No matter what.ā
You swallowed, nodding slowly. āOkay. I will.ā
He held your gaze for a second longer, then nodded, like he was satisfied with your answer. āGood.ā
Without another word, Logan turned and headed inside, leaving you standing there, the weight of his words settling over you like a heavy blanket.
What did he mean? Why did he look at you like he knew something you didnāt?
You lingered there for a moment before finally heading to your own quarters. But even as you lay in bed that night, staring up at the ceiling, Loganās words echoed in your mind.
You find me. No matter what.
---
The next few days were a strange mix of routine and tension. Logan stayed around the base, mostly keeping to himself, but you found yourself crossing paths with him more often than you expected. Every time, there was that same intensity in his gaze, like he was watching you, waiting for something.
It wasnāt uncomfortable, exactly. But it did make your chest tighten every time you saw him.
One evening, as the sun began to set, you found yourself wandering toward the edge of the base, needing a moment to clear your head. The war, the patients, the constant pressureāit was all getting to you. And Logan... well, Logan wasnāt making things any easier.
You were so lost in your thoughts that you didnāt notice him until he spoke.
āNeed some company?ā
You jumped slightly, turning to find Logan leaning against a tree, arms crossed over his chest, a small smirk tugging at his lips.
āJeez, you scared me,ā you said, placing a hand over your heart.
āDidnāt mean to sneak up on you,ā he said, pushing off the tree and walking over to stand beside you. āYou looked like you could use some company.ā
You sighed, glancing out at the fading sun. āYeah, I guess I could.ā
Logan didnāt say anything for a moment, just stood there beside you, his presence solid and reassuring. After a few beats of silence, he spoke.
āYou doinā all right?ā he asked, his voice softer than usual.
You shrugged, trying to brush it off. āItās just... a lot sometimes, you know?ā
Logan nodded, his eyes never leaving your face. āYeah. I get it.ā
There was something in the way he said itāsomething that made you believe he really did get it. Like he knew exactly what it felt like to carry the weight of the world on your shoulders.
āThanks for asking,ā you said quietly, your gaze still focused on the horizon.
Logan was quiet for a long moment before he spoke again. āI meant what I said before,ā he murmured. āYou ever need anything... you come find me.ā
You turned to look at him, the seriousness in his voice catching you off guard. āLogan... why are you doinā this? Why are you looking out for me?ā
Loganās jaw tightened, and for a second, you thought he wasnāt going to answer. But then he spoke, his voice low and rough. āBecause... youāre important. More than you know.ā
The words hit you like a punch to the gut. Important? How? Why?
Before you could ask, Logan stepped closer, his eyes locked onto yours. āJust promise me,ā he said, his voice barely above a whisper. āPromise me youāll come find me if you need to.ā
You nodded, your heart pounding in your chest. āI promise.ā
Logan held your gaze for a moment longer, then nodded, satisfied. Without another word, he turned and walked away, leaving you standing there, your head spinning with questions.
Youāre important. More than you know.
What did that mean? Why did Logan feel so... familiar?
As the sun dipped below the horizon, you stood there, your mind racing. Logan had secretsāsecrets you werenāt sure you were ready to uncover. But one thing was clear: whatever was between the two of you, it wasnāt over. Not by a long shot.
---
On another day, you spotted Logan on the outskirts of base, sitting against a truckās wheel with a notebook in hand.
He looked almost peaceful, maybe the most peaceful youād ever seen him since he got here. Judging by the way he was moving his pencil, you assumed he was drawing something. You hesitated, not wanting to disturb him, but your curiosity got the better of you.
"Didnāt peg you for an artist," you said, walking over and leaning against the truck beside him.
Logan didnāt look up right away, just kept sketching, but there was a small smirk on his lips. "You learn a lot when youāve got time," he muttered.
You glanced at the notebook, catching glimpses of rough lines and shadows. āWhatāre you drawing?ā
He paused, almost like he wasnāt sure if he wanted to show you, then turned the notebook just enough for you to see. It was a sketch of the baseāa surprisingly detailed one, with the buildings and surrounding trees, even some of the soldiers milling about.
āNot bad,ā you said, genuinely impressed. āDidnāt know you had this in you.ā
Logan shrugged, as if it was no big deal. āLike I said, a lot of time.ā He looked at you then, and for a brief moment, there was something more behind his eyes, something deeper. āKeeps me grounded.ā
You studied him, wondering what that really meant. Logan had always been a bit of a mystery, but there were momentsālike nowāwhere it felt like there was so much more to him than he let on.
āYou ever thought about doing something with it? You know, beyond just sketches?ā you asked, half teasing, half curious.
Logan let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. āIām not the āshow-off my artā type. Itās just... for me.ā He glanced back at the drawing, his expression softening in a way you didnāt often see. āHelps me forget.ā
You nodded, feeling a tug at your chest. āForget what?ā
For a moment, he didnāt answer. Then he said, āEverything.ā
The weight in his voice told you there was more to that statementāmore than you could guess. Youād learned over the past few days that Logan was carrying his own kind of burden, just like you were. And yet, somehow, it felt like his was so much heavier.
āMust be a lot to forget,ā you said softly.
Loganās gaze flicked up to meet yours, and for a second, you thought he might actually open up. But instead, he just gave a noncommittal grunt and went back to his sketching.
You watched him for a while, feeling the comfortable silence settle between you. It was odd, but Loganās presence had become... something you looked forward to. Even with all the unspoken tension, being around him made things feel a little less overwhelming.
āI never thanked you,ā you said after a while, breaking the quiet. āFor, you know... looking out for me.ā
Loganās pencil paused again, and he glanced up. āYou donāt have to thank me.ā
āI do,ā you insisted, your eyes meeting his. āYou didnāt have to. But you did.ā
Logan shifted, looking slightly uncomfortable with the gratitude, but his eyes softened. āI told you. Youāre important.ā
That word againāimportant. You wanted to ask him why, wanted to press him on what he really meant by that, but something in his expression told you he wasnāt ready to answer. Not yet.
āJust⦠stay outta trouble,ā Logan said, his voice dropping into something rougher, more serious. āIād rather not have to pull you out of any more messes.ā
You smiled, trying to keep things light. āIāll do my best. But, you know, being a nurse in the middle of a war, trouble kinda finds me.ā
Logan let out a soft huff of a laugh, though there wasnāt much humor in it. āYeah, I guess it does.ā
The sky was growing darker now, the last traces of sunlight fading. You knew you should probably head back to the barracks soon, but something kept you rooted to the spot, standing beside him. The air between you felt charged, like there was something unspoken hanging there, waiting to be acknowledged.
āLogan,ā you began, your voice quiet but steady. āWhy does it feel like youāve been watching me? Not just looking out for me, but... like youāve known me.ā
Loganās jaw tightened. His eyes shifted, as if he was deciding whether to answer that. You could feel your heart thudding in your chest, waiting for his response.
āI havenāt,ā he said finally, though his voice lacked conviction. āNot in the way youāre thinking.ā
The way he said it made you frown. āWhat does that mean?ā
Loganās gaze held yours, intense and searching. There was a flicker of something thereāregret? Pain? Before you could figure it out, he looked away, his fingers tightening around the edges of the notebook.
āIt means⦠I donāt want you to get hurt,ā he said, his voice low, almost a growl. āNot again.ā
Again. There it wasāa crack in the wall heād built around himself. But before you could push him on it, Logan stood abruptly, tucking the notebook under his arm.
āYou should get some rest,ā he muttered, not meeting your eyes. āLong day tomorrow.ā
You blinked, caught off guard by his sudden shift. āLoganāā
But he was already walking away, his back stiff and his pace quick. You watched him go, your mind spinning with more questions than answers. Something was going on with Loganāsomething bigger than youād realized.
And you had a feeling you werenāt going to let it go until you found out the truth.
---
The next morning you found out that Logan had already gone on some mission to Sicily. You werenāt sure why you felt sad, maybe a bit betrayed that he left without saying goodbye, but you did.
You had only known him for a few days, but somehow it seemed longer.
You couldnāt just stand around and dwell on Logan leaving without a goodbye. There was work to do. You made your way to the medical tent where a doctor had been prepping for a surgery. As you stepped inside, the familiar scent of antiseptic hit your nose, grounding you in the moment.
"Y/N, glad youāre here. Weāve got a soldier with a bullet wound to the abdomen," the doctor said, his tone brisk. "I need your hands steady and sharp today."
You nodded, pushing thoughts of Logan to the back of your mind. "Got it, Doctor."
The surgery went on for hours, the steady rhythm of your breathing matching the precise movements of your hands as you assisted. It was intense, but you had no time to be distracted. Life and death were real here, and your job was to fight for life.
When the surgery was finally over, the soldier stabilized, you stepped outside the tent to catch your breath. The sky was still overcast, and the damp air felt heavy. You leaned against a wooden post, your hands shaking slightly from the adrenaline.
Logan was gone, but the memory of him lingered. You couldnāt shake the feeling that heād left something unsaid. There had been too many momentsātoo many heavy, unspoken words between you. You tried to brush it off. It had only been a few days since youād met him, after all. But somehow, it felt like more.
"Y/N."
You looked up to see one of the other nurses approaching. "Yeah?"
"Youāve been requested to assist with another unit. Theyāre setting up a temporary hospital closer to the front lines. Itāll be rough, but they need experienced hands."
You hesitated. The front lines meant more danger, more chaos. But the soldier in youāthe part that was here to help, to make a differenceāknew you couldnāt say no.
"When do I leave?" you asked, straightening up.
"Tomorrow morning, first light."
You nodded, giving a small smile. "Thanks for the heads-up."
That night, you tried to sleep, but your mind kept wandering back to Logan. To his last words before heād leftā"I donāt want you to get hurt. Not again." What had he meant by āagainā? It kept echoing in your mind, nagging at you.
---
The next morning came quickly, and before you knew it, you were being packed into a truck heading closer to the front lines. The landscape passed by in a blur, and the closer you got to the new camp, the louder the sounds of war became. Shells exploded in the distance, and the ground seemed to vibrate with tension.
You spent the next few days in a haze of blood, bandages, and exhaustion. There was barely any time to think, let alone dwell on Logan. But still, every once in a while, your thoughts drifted to himāwondering where he was, what he was doing. If he was safe.
It was late one night, a few days into your new assignment, when the unexpected happened. The sirens had started to blare, lights flashing around camp. That could only mean one thing- you were under attack. And judging by the loud engines overhead, none of you were going to make it out alive.
---
Logan had gone with other soldiers to Sicily for Operation Husky. He didnāt want to leave you, but part of him thought, hoped, that maybe he was your bad luck charm.
Logan stared at the coastline of Sicily, but his mind was elsewhere. The mission was straightforwardāget in, clear the path for the troops, and secure the area. But no matter how focused he tried to stay, thoughts of you kept creeping back in. He wondered if you were safe. He hoped, for your sake, that you werenāt thinking about him as much as he was thinking about you.
It was torture, being away. But deep down, Logan believed it was better this way. Maybe him being around was what doomed you every time. You had died three times before, and each time, he had been there. Maybe this time, distance would keep you safe.
But that didnāt stop him from wanting you. The thought of your smile, your laughter, the way you challenged himāit made him ache with something deeper than just desire. It was like an old wound that never healed, no matter how fast the rest of him did.
One of the soldiers called his name, pulling him from his thoughts. āLogan, you with us, man?ā
He grunted in response, nodding toward the others. āYeah, Iām here.ā
āGood,ā the guy said. āWeāre heading out.ā
Logan followed, but his thoughts drifted again, back to you. He had promised himself he wouldnāt get attached this time. But it was too late for that. Heād been attached since 1854, since that first smile, that first laugh.
---
It was a few days before Logan made it back to base, one closer to the frontlines. The mission had gone as planned, but something gnawed at him, an uneasy feeling he couldnāt shake.
As soon as the base came into view, Logan noticed something was off. Smoke still lingered in the air, and there were fewer people around than there shouldāve been. His gut twisted. Something had happened while he was gone.
He found one of the soldiers he recognized, grabbing him by the arm. āWhat happened here?ā
The guyās face darkened. āWe were hit. Bombing raid. Caught us off guard. There... there werenāt many survivors.ā
Loganās heart dropped. āWhereās the hospital unit?ā
The soldier hesitated, eyes flicking away from Loganās intense gaze. āIt was one of the first targets. No one made it out.ā
Logan felt like the ground had dropped from under him. āWhat do you mean, no one?ā His voice was a low growl, almost dangerous.
The soldier shook his head. āIām sorry, man. They didnāt stand a chance.ā
Loganās hands clenched into fists at his sides. The world around him blurred as the words sank in. You were gone. Again.
Without saying another word, Logan turned and walked toward what was left of the hospital tent. He had to see it for himself, even though part of him knew it was true. There was nothing left but rubble and debris.
His chest tightened, the weight of it crushing. You were gone. And he hadnāt been there to stop it. Again.
Logan stood there for what felt like hours, staring at the wreckage. He felt that familiar, burning anger rising inside him, but it was mixed with something else this timeāgrief. Deep, raw grief. He wanted to scream, to punch something, anything, but all he could do was stand there, numb.
He reached into his pocket, fingers brushing against the small velvet box he always carried with him. The engagement ring. The one he had never used.
It had been almost ninety years since he bought it. And still, he carried it, hoping one day he might finally be able to give it to you. But every time, every life, you slipped through his fingers.
Logan swallowed hard, his throat tight. He wasnāt sure how much more of this he could take. How many more times he could lose you.
āDammit,ā he muttered under his breath, his voice rough with emotion.
He had thought putting distance between you two would protect you. But it didnāt matter. You were gone, just like the other times.
And now, once again, he was left with nothing but memories and that damned ring.
in this chapter logan is 111 years old and reader is around 24-27 years old.

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i love you, in every time ąæā§ā 1900 - with you i'm free
chapter summary: Logan meets you again in a small town in Pennsylvania. Only this time, you are married to another man, but your marriage is far from perfect.
word count: 11.4k+
pairing: Logan Howlett x fem!reader
notes: this is a bit darker than the other chapters, past and future, so this'll probably be a 'one off'. please read the tags! the domestic violence isn't described too heavily, but there are still some descriptions and scenes involving it. you've been warned!
warnings/tags: angst, mentions of brushing hair, outdated mindsets on women, domestic violence, bruises, cheating, blood, character death
series masterlist - chapter 2 ā chapter 4
Logan found himself in a small town in Pennsylvania 20 years later. Victor was doing who knows what, he wasnāt sure if he even cared, so he was alone, once again.
Coal mining was the primary job in this town, so he found himself doing just that. After work, the guys would go to a nearby bar and get drunk, go back home, and repeat it all over again.
This was his second week here, and the guys finally learned that he only came along to do one thing- drink.
You walked into the dimly lit bar, the smell of tobacco and cheap liquor hanging heavy in the air. The men, mostly miners from the town, were crowded around tables, drinking and laughing loudly after a long day of work. The sound of clinking glasses and rough voices filled the room, but your eyes were drawn to the man sitting at the bar, quiet and distant.
He didnāt look like the othersāhe wasnāt laughing, wasnāt part of the group. He just sat there, nursing a glass of whiskey, his dark eyes focused on the amber liquid as if it held answers to questions he wasnāt ready to ask. Something about him felt familiar, though you couldnāt place why.
You hadnāt intended to come inside. George was already drunk somewhere in the back, and you knew what that would mean when he got home. But something pulled you toward the bar, toward him. You made your way over, hesitating for just a moment before slipping onto the stool beside him.
āYou new in town?ā you asked, your voice soft but cutting through the noise around you.
The man didnāt look at you right away, but his hand tightened slightly around the glass. His jaw clenched, as if the sound of your voice had struck something deep inside him. Slowly, he turned his head, and when his eyes met yours, the world seemed to tilt for a moment.
It was like a punch to the gut, a shock that ran through both of you, though you couldnāt understand why. You had never met him before, but his eyes... those eyes. Dark, haunted, and yet filled with something familiar, something you couldnāt explain.
Logan stared at you, his mind racing. It couldnāt be. But it was. You were here, sitting right next to him, alive. Different, yet the same. His chest tightened, the memories flooding backāyour face, your smile, your laugh. The way you had slipped away from him, twice now.
He hadnāt expected to see you again. Not after the last time. But here you were, as real as the glass in his hand.
āYeah,ā he muttered, his voice rougher than he intended. āJust passing through.ā
You tilted your head slightly, curious about the stranger beside you. āPassing through? Not many people come here unless theyāre looking to stay a while.ā
Loganās eyes flicked to you again, lingering this time. It was you, all right. Same voice, same damn spark. He could feel his heart pounding, and for a moment, he wasnāt sure if he should just get up and walk away. He didnāt know if he could handle thisālosing you again.
āIām not lookinā to stay,ā he said, taking a long sip of his drink, hoping it would calm the storm inside him.
You smiled faintly, noticing how closed-off he seemed. āSeems like youāre fitting in already, though,ā you joked, nodding toward the men in the back. āThatās my husband back there, George. One of the miners.ā
Loganās jaw tightened at the word āhusband,ā though he didnāt know why it hit him so hard. Of course, youād have a life. It was always like this. But that didnāt make it any easier.
āIs that right?ā he replied, not really asking. He glanced toward the group of men, catching sight of George, loud and drunk, waving his glass around like he owned the place. A man like that didnāt deserve you. But Logan stayed silent.
āYeah,ā you said softly, looking down at your hands. āHeās⦠something.ā
There was a heaviness in your voice, something that told Logan more than your words ever could. He recognized that toneāthe one you used when you were trying to hide the truth, trying to make things seem better than they were.
For a moment, neither of you spoke. Logan just stared at his drink, trying to figure out what the hell he was supposed to do now. You were married. You had a life. He didnāt belong here. But he couldnāt just walk away. Not again.
āY/N.ā The sound of your name from his lips was barely a whisper, but it felt like it echoed through the bar. Your head snapped up, eyes wide.
āHow⦠how do you know my name?ā you asked, frowning in confusion. He hadnāt asked, and you hadnāt introduced yourself.
Logan cursed inwardly, realizing his slip. He hadnāt meant to say it, but your name had come so naturally, like it always did. āI, uh⦠heard someone call you that when I came in,ā he lied, quickly looking away. āDidnāt mean to surprise you.ā
You blinked, but before you could question him further, Georgeās booming voice interrupted.
āY/N!ā he shouted, stumbling toward you. āWhatāre you doinā at the bar? Get over here!ā
You flinched slightly, your body tensing at the sound of his voice. Logan noticed immediately, his eyes darkening as he glanced between you and the drunk man. He didnāt like the way George looked at you, the way he called for you like he owned you.
āI should go,ā you muttered, standing up quickly, the warmth between you and Logan fading as you stepped away. āIt was nice meeting youā¦?ā
āLogan,ā he said, his voice low. āNameās Logan.ā
You smiled faintly again, nodding. āLogan. Well, take care.ā
He watched you walk away, his chest tight with a mix of emotions he couldnāt put into words. This wasnāt fair. Not to him, not to you. But life had never been fair, had it?
As George draped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you into the group with a roughness that made Loganās blood boil, he clenched his fists under the bar. He wanted to stand up, walk over there, and tear that manās arm off. But he stayed where he was, the ring in his pocket feeling heavier than ever. The ring he never got to give you.
You were gone again, and Logan was left with the bitter taste of whiskey and the familiar ache of loss.
---
George never really allowed you to do much, he wanted you to be the āperfect wifeā and the āperfect motherā, but he always said that last part to you with such hatred.
Some nights, while you silently cried yourself to sleep, you wondered if you were broken, and that maybe you deserved it. Not ever getting pregnant, having an abusive husband- not that it was rare, most of the guysā wives went through the same things too.
One day, you were out doing errands, getting some things to make George his favorite dinner in hopes you wouldnāt end up with another bruise on your wrist like yesterday, when you saw him. Logan, from a few nights ago.
He was smoking a cigar against a brick building; he should be at work with the rest of the men.
You paused, your breath catching for a moment as you saw him. Logan. He looked out of place, leaning against the wall like he didnāt belong in this time or this town. His eyes, sharp even from a distance, locked onto yours the second you stepped out of the store. It was like he knew youād be there, as if he had been waiting.
You hesitated, then made your way toward him, the worn handle of the basket digging into your palm as you gripped it tightly.
āShouldnāt you be at work?ā you asked softly, your voice carrying just enough over the sound of the bustling street.
Logan took a long drag from the cigar, his eyes narrowing slightly, and shrugged. āTook a break. Figured I needed some air.ā
You shifted awkwardly, glancing around before lowering your voice. āIf George finds out youāre not workingā¦ā
He scoffed, the sound rough, almost amused. āGeorge aināt my boss.ā
His words hung in the air, and you knew he was right. George might run things at home, but out here, Logan didnāt answer to anyone. You, on the other hand⦠your life was different.
Loganās eyes flicked down to your wrist, where the bruise from yesterdayās outburst was still visible, even though youād tried to hide it with long sleeves. His expression darkened instantly, the casual air gone in an instant.
āHe do that?ā His voice was low, almost a growl.
You swallowed, tugging the sleeve down further. āItās nothing,ā you mumbled, avoiding his gaze. āI justāGeorge gets frustrated sometimes.ā
Logan pushed off the wall, stepping closer, the smell of smoke and leather surrounding you. He was close now, too close, and you felt your heart quickenānot in fear, but in something else entirely.
āFrustrated?ā Logan repeated, his voice dripping with disdain. āThat what you call it?ā
You didnāt answer. Couldnāt, really. What were you supposed to say? That it was normal? That the other wives had it worse? The words died in your throat, and instead, you turned your head, focusing on the basket in your hand. āI should get going.ā
But Logan didnāt move, didnāt let you slip away that easily. āYou donāt have to put up with that, Y/N,ā he muttered, his voice softer now. His hand brushed your arm, barely a touch, but you felt it. Felt it everywhere.
Your breath hitched, and you looked up at him, finding those dark, intense eyes watching you closely. āI⦠I should get home,ā you said again, but the words lacked conviction this time.
Logan didnāt argue, but the look on his face told you that he wasnāt letting this go. āIāll walk with you,ā he said, his tone leaving no room for debate.
You didnāt protest as he fell into step beside you. The two of you walked in silence for a while, your steps in sync, even though neither of you said a word. It was like that night in the barāthe unspoken connection, the weight of something you couldnāt quite name hanging between you. But this time, there was no crowd, no drunken laughter. Just you and him, and the quiet tension that seemed to grow with every step.
When you reached the edge of your street, you stopped. āYou donāt have to walk me the whole way,ā you murmured, glancing toward your house, where Georgeās silhouette was already moving around inside.
Logan didnāt respond right away. Instead, he looked at you, his gaze lingering on the bruise again before his eyes met yours. āYou ever need someone to talk to,ā he said quietly, āyou know where to find me.ā
Your heart clenched at the offer, at the way he said it like he meant it. You nodded, unsure of what else to do, and turned to leave.
But as you stepped away, his hand brushed yours again, just for a second. It was fleeting, but it sent a shiver down your spine, a reminder that there was something hereāsomething neither of you fully understood but couldnāt deny.
You walked inside, feeling his presence behind you even after the door closed, knowing that things had just shifted, that something had begun. And it scared you. Not because of George, not because of what it might mean if you were caughtābut because of how much you wanted it. How much you wanted him.
---
Over the next few days, Logan stayed close. You saw him more oftenāsometimes at the store, sometimes on the streetābut always watching, always aware. He didnāt push, didnāt say much. But his presence was a constant, a quiet offer of protection that you hadnāt asked for but found yourself relying on.
It was late one evening when it finally happened. George had been out drinking again, and when he came home, it was worse than usual. You flinched as his hand caught your wrist, yanking you toward him as he slurred something about dinner not being ready on time.
You wouldāve left the house if you could, but you couldnāt. Not when George was glaring at you like that, his drunken eyes wild with the sort of rage that had become all too familiar. You knew exactly what was going to happen tonight. It wasnāt newāthis quiet dread that wrapped itself around your throat, choking off your breath. Running had never worked before, and by now, you had learned there was no use in trying.
George's grip on your wrist tightened painfully as he muttered something under his breath. The way he yanked you close made your heart race, not out of fear, but from the exhaustion of enduring it. He wasnāt done with his tiradeāhis words slurred together, complaining about dinner, the house, everything. It didnāt matter. Nothing you did ever seemed to be enough.
As his fist balled around the fabric of your dress, you stared blankly at the floor, your mind drifting elsewhere, anywhere but here. To the street outside, to the market, to Logan. The quiet man whoād appeared in your life without explanation. You didnāt know why, but when you thought of him, you felt something differentāsomething dangerous but soothing all the same. A flicker of rebellion, of hope, that you hadnāt felt in so long.
George shoved you toward the kitchen table, grumbling about the cold food, about you being lazy, about anything he could think of. You stumbled, catching yourself on the edge of the table, but didnāt say a word. You never did, not when it got like this.
But Logan⦠he had noticed. He had noticed the bruises, the way you flinched when someone raised their voice, the way you avoided eye contact. He wasnāt like the other men in town. He wasnāt one to turn a blind eye. You remembered his intense gaze lingering on your wrist, the bruise that you couldnāt quite hide. You remembered the way he had spoken to you softly, almost like he cared.
That thought gave you strength now, as George barked another order, telling you to clean up the dishes. Your body moved mechanically, but your mind stayed somewhere else. You could almost feel Loganās hand brushing against yours again, the briefest touch when heād walked you home the other night. It had been so subtle, but it had sent a jolt through youāa reminder that there were still things you could feel, still things you could want.
The night dragged on, just as it always did, but when George finally passed out in his chair, snoring heavily, you slipped outside. The cool night air hit your skin, and for a moment, you just stood there, breathing it in. You werenāt going far. Just a few minutes of peace. Just enough to remind yourself that you were still alive.
You walked slowly down the empty street, your eyes scanning the shadows. You didnāt mean to, but your feet led you toward the alley where Logan had been smoking that day. It was a habit now, searching for him, even when you knew you shouldnāt.
And then, there he was. Leaning against the same wall, his broad figure half-hidden by the dim light of the streetlamp. His cigar glowed faintly in the dark, and as soon as he saw you, he straightened, eyes narrowing with concern.
āY/N,ā Logan said softly, stepping toward you. His voice was rough but gentle in the stillness of the night. āWhatāre you doinā out here?ā
You shrugged, not trusting yourself to speak just yet. Your throat felt tight, and your chest ached with all the things you wanted to say but couldnāt. Instead, you just walked closer, until you were standing right in front of him, your head tipped back slightly to meet his gaze.
Loganās eyes flickered over your face, taking in every detailāthe bruise that had started to fade but was still visible on your wrist, the exhaustion that weighed down your every movement. He didnāt ask any questions. He didnāt need to. He knew.
Without a word, Logan reached out, his hand cupping the back of your neck in a way that was more comforting than anything youād felt in years. The warmth of his touch sent a shiver down your spine, and for a moment, you let yourself lean into him. Just for a moment.
āY/N, you donāt have to stay there,ā he murmured, his thumb brushing softly against your skin. āNot with him.ā
You squeezed your eyes shut, the truth of his words cutting deeper than anything else. You didnāt want to stay, you didnāt. But leaving wasnāt as easy as it sounded. George was⦠dangerous. You didnāt know what he would do if you tried to leave him. And besides, where would you even go? You had nothing. No money, no family. Just an empty house that felt more like a prison with every passing day.
āI donāt have anywhere else to go,ā you whispered, your voice cracking under the weight of your own admission.
Loganās grip tightened slightly, and you could see the conflict in his eyes. He wanted to help, wanted to tear you away from that life, but he was fighting something inside himself too.
āYou always got me,ā Logan said quietly, his voice thick with something you couldnāt quite name. āAlways.ā
The words hung in the air between you, heavy and full of meaning. You didnāt know what to say. The part of you that was practical screamed that you couldnāt rely on him, that you shouldnāt get attached. But the other part, the part that had been buried deep beneath years of heartache, wanted to believe him. Wanted to fall into him, to take whatever comfort he could offer.
Before you could stop yourself, you reached up, your hand trembling slightly as you rested it on his chest. You felt his heart beating under your palm, steady and strong. Loganās breath hitched at the contact, but he didnāt pull away. He never did.
āLogan,ā you whispered, your voice barely audible in the quiet street. āI donāt know what to do.ā
He let out a slow breath, his forehead resting against yours now, his warm breath mingling with yours. His free hand came up, his thumb brushing your cheek softly, tracing the path of an unshed tear.
āYou donāt have to decide tonight,ā he said gently, his lips so close to yours that it took everything in you not to close the distance. āBut whatever you decide⦠Iām not lettinā you go through this alone. Not again.ā
Your heart ached at his wordsāhis promise. The unspoken connection between you felt stronger than ever, and before you knew it, you were closing that distance, your lips brushing against his in a hesitant, tender kiss.
Logan froze for half a second, but then his arms were around you, pulling you closer as if heād been waiting for this moment for longer than he could remember. His lips were rough, but his kiss was gentle, full of restraint. You could feel the years of longing behind it, the pain of lifetimes lived and lost, but also the desireāthe need that neither of you could ignore any longer.
When you finally pulled back, breathless and trembling, Loganās eyes were darker than youād ever seen them. He looked at you like you were the only thing in the world that mattered.
āY/Nā¦ā he whispered, his voice ragged, his forehead still resting against yours. āThis aināt right. Youāre⦠youāre married.ā
āI know,ā you said, your voice barely more than a breath. āBut I⦠I donāt care anymore.ā
Loganās grip on you tightened for a moment, like he was trying to fight it, but then he cursed softly under his breath and kissed you again, this time with more desperation, more need. His hands tangled in your hair, his lips claiming yours in a way that made it clear this wasnāt something either of you could stop now.
And for the first time in a long time, you didnāt want to.
---
The next few days blurred together, a dangerous mix of stolen moments and whispered promises. Logan was always there, watching over you, his touch lingering on your skin long after you parted. You knew it was wrong, knew that it would only lead to more heartache, but you couldnāt stop. He had become your anchor, your escape from a life you couldnāt bear anymore.
It wasnāt long before you were meeting him after dark, slipping out of the house when George was too drunk to notice. The kisses became longer, the touches more urgent.
Soon, it wasnāt just nights you were seeing him. It was after George left for work, during Loganās lunch breaks, or anytime he could sneak away from the mine. Youād meet in the same alley, or sometimes heād find you waiting in a small park just outside town. The secrecy of it allāthe sneaking around, the stolen momentsāit was reckless, but neither of you could stop.
Logan wasnāt the kind of man who talked much, but the way he looked at you, the way he held youālike you were the only thing keeping him groundedāit said enough. His hands were always gentle, so different from Georgeās, even though you could feel the strength behind them. That raw, unyielding strength that was so uniquely his.
One afternoon, Logan met you in the small clearing just past the main street. It was a rare moment when George was working late, giving you a little more time than usual. You leaned against the large oak tree, your back pressed into the rough bark, and waited. It wasnāt long before Loganās figure appeared in the distance, his broad shoulders tense, eyes scanning the area out of habit.
As soon as he spotted you, his shoulders seemed to relax, and he made his way over, his footsteps heavy but quiet in the dirt. When he got close enough, you smiled softly, your fingers fiddling with the fabric of your dress, a nervous habit youād picked up over the last few weeks.
āThought Iād lost you for a minute there,ā you teased, keeping your voice light, though there was a real fear under the surface. Every time you saw him, there was a tiny part of you that worried it might be the last.
Logan gave a half-smile, though it didnāt reach his eyes. āNot that easy to lose me, Y/N.ā
You looked up at him, trying to read what was going on in his head. He seemed⦠tense, more so than usual. You could see it in the tightness of his jaw, the way his fists clenched and unclenched at his sides.
āYou alright?ā you asked, your voice softening as you stepped closer, close enough to touch him, but not quite daring to yet.
Loganās gaze flickered down to you, and for a moment, you saw something in his eyesāsomething old, something heavy. But he shook his head, as if brushing it off, and reached out to gently tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. The warmth of his touch sent a shiver through you.
āIām fine,ā he muttered, though you could tell he wasnāt. He was never fine.
You reached out, resting your hand on his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heart under your palm. āYou donāt have to pretend with me, Logan.ā
He stared at you for a long moment, the silence stretching between you, before he finally spoke. āItās just⦠this,ā he said, his voice low, almost pained. āI donāt want you gettinā hurt.ā
You swallowed hard, your fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt. āIām already hurt,ā you whispered, and for the first time, you felt the full weight of those words. The bruises, the fear, the nights spent lying awake, wondering if George would snapāit had become your normal, and you hated it.
Loganās expression didnāt change much, but his jaw clenched, a flicker of something dark flashing behind his eyes. He stood still, his hands loose at his sides, and for a second you thought maybe youād gone too farāthat maybe admitting this would scare him away, make him walk off into the night and leave you standing there alone.
But he didnāt. He never did.
Logan exhaled slowly through his nose, the sound quiet but loaded with restrained anger, like a simmering fire just barely held in check. His handārough and warmāreached out to settle on your arm, fingers curling gently around your elbow. It was a simple touch, but it grounded you in a way that nothing else did.
āIāll handle it,ā Logan said, voice low, rough. His words were more than a statementāthey were a promise, weighted with meaning you couldnāt quite untangle.
Your heart skipped at the way he said it, quiet but firm, like the solution was already decided, and there was no point in questioning it.
āYou canāt,ā you whispered, not because you didnāt believe him, but because you knew how dangerous George could be. And if Logan went to himāif George found out about the two of youā¦
Loganās thumb brushed once along your forearm, slow and deliberate. āIāve handled worse,ā he muttered, gaze never leaving yours. There was a sharpness in his eyes now, something fierce. You didnāt know what heād been through in his lifeājust that it was far more than you could imagine.
A part of you wanted to tell him not to get involved, but the other partāthe part of you that had been breaking under Georgeās hand for yearsāwanted to let Logan do exactly what he was offering.
You bit your lip. āIf he finds outā¦ā You trailed off, but Logan understood. Of course he did.
He stepped in closer, so close that the rough wool of his shirt brushed against your dress. His hand shifted from your arm to the back of your neck, his fingers resting there firmly, possessively, but with the same strange tenderness he always showed you. āI wonāt let him hurt you again,ā Logan murmured, voice steady.
You wanted to believe him. God, you wanted to believe him so badly. And when you looked into his eyesādark and steady and filled with something raw and unyieldingāyou thought maybe you could.
Your hand rested flat against his chest, fingers curling slightly into the worn fabric of his shirt. His heartbeat strong beneath your palm, steady and unrelenting.
āHe wonāt stop, Logan.ā Your voice cracked, the words slipping out before you could stop them. āHeāll justāheāll come after me, after us.ā
Loganās lips pressed into a thin line, the muscle in his jaw twitching. āLet him try,ā he said, the words edged with a quiet menace that sent a chill down your spine.
It should have scared you, the way he said itālike violence was something inevitable, something he didnāt shy away from. But instead, it made you feel⦠safe. Safer than youād felt in years.
The night air around you was cool, but standing this close to Logan, you felt none of it. His hand slipped from your neck down to the small of your back, his touch warm and steady through the fabric of your dress.
āI shouldnāt be here,ā you whispered, but even as you said it, you didnāt move away.
Loganās gaze softened, just a fraction. āI aināt gonna pretend this is right,ā he said, voice rough but quiet. āBut I aināt gonna pretend I donāt want you, either.ā
His words hit you hard, sinking deep into your chest. You hadnāt realized how starved you wereāhow badly you needed someone to see you, to want you. And Logan⦠he saw everything. The bruises, the fear, the exhaustion. And still, he looked at you like you were worth something.
You swallowed thickly. āWhat happens if he finds out?ā
Loganās expression darkened. āHe wonāt.ā
The finality in his tone left no room for doubt, and for a moment, all the fear that had been building inside you loosened, just enough to let you breathe.
Without thinking, you reached up, fingertips brushing along the edge of his jaw, feeling the rough scrape of stubble beneath your touch. Loganās eyes closed briefly, like the small touch was something he hadnāt let himself feel in a long time. When his eyes opened again, they were darker, filled with a need that mirrored your own.
He leaned in slowly, giving you every chance to pull away. But you didnāt. You couldnāt.
His lips found yours in a kiss that was both tender and desperate, like a man starved for something he couldnāt name. His hand cupped the back of your head, holding you to him as if he was afraid youād disappear if he let go.
You melted into him, the fear and exhaustion slipping away, at least for now. His kiss was everythingāan escape, a promise, a lifeline.
When you finally pulled back, breathless and trembling, Logan rested his forehead against yours. His hand lingered on your waist, as if letting go wasnāt an option.
āJust say the word, Y/N,ā Logan whispered, his voice rough with emotion. āSay the word, and weāll leave. Tonight.ā
Your heart ached at the offerāat the thought of running away with him, leaving everything behind. But it wasnāt that simple, and you both knew it.
āI canāt,ā you whispered, hating yourself for the truth of it.
Loganās grip on you tightened briefly, as if trying to hold onto something he couldnāt keep. But when he spoke again, his voice was steady.
āThen Iāll stay,ā he murmured, his lips brushing against your temple. āUntil you can.ā
You closed your eyes, letting the weight of his words settle over you. For the first time in years, you felt like you werenāt alone.
And thatājust thatāwas enough to keep you going. For now.
---
One of the local churches was having a retreat set up for the women in town. Clara had been talking your ear off about it at Sunday church, spouting how excited she was to get out of the house.
You listened half-heartedly, but really you were thinking about what a perfect excuse it was to flip this into a lie for George.
You told Logan you couldnāt run away with him, but that didnāt include spending these few days with him, maybe off somewhere in a nearby town.
Most of the women in town were very religious, and at times you felt like an outsider. You didnāt believe like they did, but you kept up a perfect front to make them believe you felt the same way.
āMaybe weāll have another sewing circle this time. Whaddya think?ā Clara asked, a wide grin splitting her face as she held her hat against the October breeze.
You gave a noncommittal hum, tugging the sleeves of your dress down to cover the faint bruises on your wrists. āMaybe,ā you murmured, though your thoughts were far from sewing circles and prayer sessions.
The retreat was perfect. It would get you out of Georgeās reachāat least for a couple of daysāand give you the time you so desperately craved. More than anything, it meant time with Logan.
Clara didnāt seem to notice your distraction. āItās always good to get away, you know? Some of these girls say the Holy Spirit really speaks to āem up there.ā She gave you a knowing look. āSometimes, you just gotta leave it all behind for a bit.ā
You forced a smile. "Maybe that's what I need."
Clara squeezed your arm, oblivious to how you tensed. āSee? Thatās the spirit! Now you just gotta convince your husband.ā
You swallowed thickly. George wouldnāt care about a church retreat if it kept up appearances. He didnāt pay much mind to you unless you were standing in his wayāor if dinner wasnāt on time. A couple of days without you underfoot? Heād probably welcome the peace.
Later that night, after George had his fill of supper and slumped into his chair with a bottle, you tested the waters.
āYou remember Clara?ā you asked, keeping your tone light. āShe mentioned a church retreat this weekend. Thought Iād go.ā
George barely glanced up. āWhat for?ā
āSome of the other women are going too.ā You folded your hands together tightly, hiding your nervous fidgeting. āItās just a few days. Theyāll be praying and sewing... nothing much.ā
George grunted, shifting in his chair. āYou aināt skippin' out on Sunday dinner.ā
You bit your lip, nodding quickly. āNo. Iāll be back before then.ā
He waved you off with a lazy flick of his hand. āFine. Just be sure you aināt runnin' off to waste money.ā
Relief washed over you so fast your knees felt weak. You ducked your head, murmuring a quiet, āThank you,ā before slipping into the next room. It had been easier than you expectedāmaybe too easy. But you werenāt about to second-guess it.
---
The next day, you told Logan.
You found him where you always didāleaning against the brick wall near the alley, a cigar pinched between his teeth. He straightened the second he saw you, his sharp gaze sweeping over you like it always did, searching for signs of hurt.
āI told George Iām going to the church retreat,ā you said quietly, stepping close enough that the warmth of him reached you. āItās this weekend. Iāll have a couple of days...ā You let the words hang between you, heart pounding as you waited for him to understand what you were really saying.
Loganās jaw ticked, his expression hard to read. āYou sure?ā His voice was low, the sound of it like gravel underfoot.
You gave a small nod. āItās the only way I can get away.ā
He exhaled through his nose, looking past you for a second before his eyes settled back on yours. āWhereās the retreat supposed to be?ā
āAbout an hour north,ā you said. āBut... Iām not going there.ā
Loganās lips twitched, something almost like a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. āThat right?ā
āYeah.ā Your voice wavered slightly, but you forced yourself to meet his gaze. āI wanna be with you, Logan. Just for a couple of days. Somewhere... away from here.ā
The smirk faded, replaced by something heavier, something that settled deep in his eyes. āYou know what you're askinā, darlinā?ā
You nodded. āI know.ā
He didnāt move for a long moment, just stood there watching you with those steady, knowing eyes. Then, with a slow exhale, he reached for youāhis hand slipping under your chin, tilting your face up toward his. His thumb brushed along your jaw, and the touch made your breath catch.
āWhere do you wanna go?ā Logan asked, his voice rough but gentle.
āAnywhere.ā The word slipped out before you could stop it, and you hated how desperate it sounded. āJust... not here.ā
Logan gave a slow, deliberate nod. āAlright,ā he muttered, the barest flicker of emotion crossing his face. āMeet me at the train station Friday night. Iāll take care of the rest.ā
---
Friday came quicker than you expected.
The afternoon dragged, tension curling in your stomach as you packed a small bag. You kept everything simpleāa couple of plain dresses, your brush, and the few coins youād stashed away in a tin under the floorboards. You told yourself it wasnāt permanent. Youād be back in a few days, and everything would go back to how it was.
At least thatās what you kept telling yourself.
When the sun began to set, you told George you were leaving. He didnāt even look up from his whiskey. āJust donāt come back actin' all high and holy,ā he muttered.
You gave a quick nod, your heart pounding so loudly it drowned out everything else.
---
The train station was quiet when you arrived, your breath fogging in the cold night air. You spotted Logan almost immediately, standing near the platform with his hands shoved into the pockets of his coat. He wore the same tired expression he always did, but when his eyes found yours, something softened in his gaze.
āYou made it,ā he murmured, stepping closer. His hand found yours, rough fingers wrapping around yours like they belonged there.
āYeah,ā you whispered, squeezing his hand.
Logan gave a small nod toward the waiting train. āCāmon. Letās get outta here.ā
You boarded without hesitation, the door clicking shut behind you as the train rumbled to life beneath your feet. Logan led you to a quiet corner of the car, his hand never leaving yours.
As the train pulled away from the station, you glanced out the window. The town grew smaller, the lights fading into the distance until there was nothing but the dark, open night stretching out ahead of you.
For the first time in what felt like forever, you let yourself breathe.
Loganās arm slipped around your shoulders, pulling you close against his side. His warmth bled into you, steady and unyielding, and for the first time in a long time, you felt safe.
āYou alright?ā Logan asked quietly, his lips brushing against the top of your head.
You nodded, leaning into him. āYeah. I am.ā
Logan didnāt say anything for a moment, but you could feel the tension in his body slowly ease as you settled against him. His arm was solid and steady around you, a quiet strength that made you feel secure. The train rocked beneath you, the rhythmic clattering on the tracks filling the silence. You closed your eyes, letting the sound and the warmth of Logan's presence wash over you.
For the first time in what felt like years, you could relaxāif only for a little while.
"You got enough for a few days?" Logan asked, his voice gruff but soft, as if he was trying not to push too much too soon.
You nodded, pulling your small bag closer to you. "Yeah. Just the basics."
Logan gave a small grunt of approval. "We'll stop by a place I know, out of the way. Youāll be safe there."
"Safe..." The word hung in the air between you, heavier than you meant it to be. It felt like a luxury you hadn't been allowed for a long time, and the thought of it made your chest tighten.
Loganās thumb stroked absently along your arm, a small gesture that grounded you. He didnāt press you for more, didnāt ask questions you werenāt ready to answer. That was the thing about Loganāhe didnāt pry, didnāt demand anything from you. He just was. It was one of the reasons you felt drawn to him, why you kept finding yourself in his orbit.
But there was still so much you didnāt know about him. Heād never mentioned a family, never talked about where heād come from or how he ended up here. There was a deep well of mystery around Logan, and sometimes you could feel it, the weight of something unspoken between the two of you. But you didnāt push him for answers either.
You shifted slightly, resting your head against his shoulder, the scent of cigar smoke and pine surrounding you. āWhere are we going?ā
"There's a place, up in the hills," Logan said quietly. "A cabin. No one's been there in a while. We'll be alone."
Alone. Just the two of you. The thought sent a ripple of excitement and fear through you, your heart skipping a beat. The idea of leaving everything behindāeven if just for a few daysāfelt like a risk. But wasnāt that what you wanted? A break from George, from the town, from the suffocating weight of a life you never really chose.
āYou sure about this?ā Logan asked, his voice low, almost hesitant. āAbout⦠us?ā
His words hung in the air, heavy with meaning. You swallowed hard, feeling the weight of your decision settle in your chest. It wasnāt just about getting away anymore. It was about choosing him, even if it was only for a little while. A choice that could never be undone.
āIām sure,ā you whispered, lifting your head to look at him. His eyes met yours, dark and searching, like he was looking for any hint of doubt.
Loganās expression softened, just a fraction, and he gave a slow nod. āAlright.ā
The train continued its steady rhythm, carrying you further away from the life you knew and into something unknown. You couldnāt think about what would come afterāabout George, about the retreat, about the women who would notice your absence. All you could think about was Logan, and the way his hand held yours, like he didnāt want to let go.
---
The cabin was quiet, nestled deep in the woods where no one could find you. Logan hadnāt been lying when he said it was out of the way. You hadnāt passed another soul on the journey here, and the solitude felt like a blanket wrapping around you, warm and comforting.
Logan pushed the door open, the wood creaking slightly under his weight. The inside was simpleārough wooden furniture, a stone fireplace, and a bed in the corner, covered in a faded quilt. It wasnāt much, but it felt safe, isolated from the rest of the world.
āYou can get some rest,ā Logan said, setting your bag down near the bed. āFireplace works, and thereās wood out back if it gets cold.ā
You nodded, glancing around the room before your eyes settled on him. āThank you.ā
Loganās gaze flickered, something unreadable passing across his face before he nodded. āDonāt gotta thank me.ā
There was a silence between you, not uncomfortable but full of things unsaid. You wanted to ask him moreāabout why he was helping you, about what he really wanted from all thisābut the words stuck in your throat. Instead, you stepped closer, your hand brushing against his arm.
āLoganā¦ā you started, unsure of where you were going with it.
He turned to face you fully, his eyes locked on yours. āYeah?ā
You hesitated, then closed the distance between you, your hands reaching up to rest on his chest. You could feel the steady beat of his heart under your palms, the warmth of his skin through his shirt.
āI just⦠I needed to be with you,ā you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper.
Loganās hand came up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing lightly over your skin. āYou got me,ā he murmured, his voice rough but sincere. āFor as long as you need.ā
Your breath hitched, and before you could second-guess yourself, you leaned up and pressed your lips to his. It wasnāt soft or tentative like you thought it might beāit was hungry, desperate, like youād been holding back for too long.
Loganās arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer, and the world outside the cabin seemed to disappear. There was no George, no town, no expectations. Just you and Logan, and the fire that burned between you.
---
Later, as the fire crackled in the hearth and the two of you lay tangled in each otherās arms, you stared up at the ceiling, your mind racing with everything that had happened.
Loganās hand trailed idly along your arm, his fingers brushing over the faint bruises youād tried so hard to hide. His touch was gentle, but you could feel the tension in him, the quiet anger simmering beneath the surface.
āIāll kill him,ā Logan muttered, his voice low and dangerous. āIf he ever touches you again.ā
You tensed, your breath catching in your throat. āLoganāā
āI mean it,ā he growled, his grip on you tightening slightly. āHe doesnāt deserve you.ā
You turned to face him, your hand resting on his chest. āItās not that simpleā¦ā
Loganās eyes met yours, and for a moment, there was something raw and painful in his gaze, something you couldnāt quite understand. But then he shook his head, exhaling slowly. āI just donāt wanna lose you. Not again.ā
His words sent a chill down your spine, but before you could ask what he meant, Logan leaned down and kissed you again, silencing your questions.
The kiss was rough, full of unspoken thingsāpromises, regrets, desires that neither of you could fully articulate. His lips moved against yours like they were trying to drown out the past, to focus only on the here and now. You kissed him back just as fiercely, your fingers digging into his skin, wanting to hold on to this moment for as long as possible.
For now, you didnāt want to think about George. You didnāt want to think about the bruises you were hiding, the lies you had to keep telling to survive. You wanted to focus on Loganāthe way his body pressed against yours, the warmth of his breath, the way he made you feel alive.
When you finally broke apart, your breathing heavy, Logan stayed close, his forehead resting against yours. His hand brushed your cheek, and for a moment, the roughness of him softened, like he was letting his guard down.
"You should rest," he murmured, his voice low, but there was a strain in it, like he was trying to hold something back.
You shook your head slightly. "I donāt want to rest. I want to stay here with you."
Loganās eyes searched yours, a flicker of hesitation crossing his face. He lifted his hand, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face, his thumb lingering on your skin for just a second longer than necessary.
āYou know this canāt last,ā he said quietly, the weight of the truth settling between you both.
You nodded, the ache in your chest growing. āI know.ā
You had always known it couldnāt last. This was just a moment stolen from the real worldāa fantasy that couldnāt survive the harshness of the life waiting for you back home. But that didnāt stop you from wanting it. It didnāt stop you from wanting him.
Loganās hand found yours again, his fingers lacing through yours in a way that felt almost protective. He hadnāt let go since youād arrived at the cabin, as if he feared you might slip away if he did.
āI wish it could be different,ā you whispered, staring down at your intertwined hands.
Logan was silent for a long time before he spoke. āMe too.ā
The fire crackled in the hearth, filling the room with warmth, but there was still a chill in the air, an unspoken tension lingering between the two of you. You could feel it in the way Loganās thumb stroked absentmindedly across your knuckles, like he was trying to ground himselfātrying to ground you.
āWhy are you doing this?ā you asked, your voice softer now. āHelping me, I mean.ā
Loganās gaze dropped to the floor for a moment, his jaw clenching slightly. When he looked back at you, his eyes were hard to read. āBecause you deserve better than him.ā
It wasnāt a full answer, but it was the closest heād come to telling you why. You werenāt sure if he was holding something back or if he just didnāt know how to say it. Logan wasnāt the type to wear his heart on his sleeve, and youād never pushed him for more than he was willing to give.
You nodded, accepting his answer for now. āThank you.ā
Loganās eyes softened at your words, and he leaned in, pressing a kiss to your forehead. āYou donāt gotta thank me, Y/N.ā
You closed your eyes, letting yourself lean into him. For the first time in what felt like forever, you allowed yourself to just be. No pretending, no worrying about what came next. Just thisājust him.
---
The morning light filtered through the small windows of the cabin, casting a soft glow on the wooden floor. You woke to the sound of birds chirping outside and the comforting warmth of Loganās body beside you. For a moment, you allowed yourself to stay like this, your head resting on his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.
You couldnāt remember the last time you felt this peaceful.
Logan stirred beneath you, his arm tightening around your waist as he woke. His eyes flickered open, and for a moment, he just looked at you, his expression unreadable.
āMorninā,ā he murmured, his voice still gravelly with sleep.
You smiled, the corners of your lips tugging up. āMorning.ā
Logan gave a quiet grunt in response, shifting slightly beneath you. His hand was still draped over your waist, his fingers rough but warm against your skin. He looked at you through half-lidded eyes, his expression unreadable in the soft morning light, like he was trying to figure out if this moment was real.
āYou sleep alright?ā he asked, his voice still gravelly with sleep.
You nodded, brushing your fingers absently along his collarbone. āBetter than I have in a long time.ā
Logan gave a small hum, his thumb tracing circles on your hip. For a moment, the two of you just stayed like thatāyour body curled into his, the outside world forgotten.
It felt fragile, like if you moved too quickly or said the wrong thing, it might all shatter.
āGotta admit,ā you murmured, āit feels strange waking up like this.ā
āYeah?ā Logan's lips twitched, just barely. āStrange good, or strange bad?ā
A soft laugh slipped out of you. āGood,ā you whispered. āStrange in a good way.ā
He held your gaze, something flickering in his eyesāsomething like relief. But it was gone just as quickly, replaced by the same quiet intensity youād come to expect from him. Logan wasnāt a man who wasted words, and that suited you just fine.
The clock on the mantle ticked steadily, marking the minutes passing in this stolen moment. You let out a soft breath and rested your chin on his chest, tracing invisible patterns on his skin with your fingertip.
āWhat time do you think it is?ā you asked, though you didnāt really care about the answer.
Logan turned his head slightly toward the window, where the early morning sun was just beginning to peek through the trees. āStill early.ā
āGood.ā You nestled closer, unwilling to let the morning slip away just yet.
He didnāt say anything for a while, just ran his hand up and down your back in slow, lazy strokes. The motion was soothingāso different from anything youād known in your marriage. With George, everything felt like an obligation, a duty. With Logan... it felt like choice.
Loganās breath stirred your hair as he spoke again, his voice low. āYou thinkin' about goin' back?ā
The question hit you like a stone dropped into still water, the ripples spreading out in every direction.
You hesitated, your fingers stilling against his chest. āI donāt know.ā
Loganās jaw flexed, and you could feel the tension creep back into him. āIf you donāt want to... you donāt gotta.ā
āItās not that simple.ā
Logan gave a quiet grunt, his hand still resting against your back, though his grip tightened slightly. āIt could be.ā
You shook your head. āHeās my husband, Logan.ā
Logan exhaled hard through his nose, and you felt the anger simmering just beneath the surface. āThat donāt mean you owe him anything.ā
The bitterness in his voice was unmistakable, and it tugged at something deep inside youāsomething that made you want to stay, to never go back to the life youād left behind.
But it wasnāt that easy. It never was.
āI have to,ā you whispered. āAt least for now.ā
Logan was silent for a long time, his hand resting heavily on your back. When he finally spoke, his voice was rough, almost reluctant. āYou know where to find me if things get bad.ā
It wasnāt a promise, not exactlyābut it felt like one.
āI know,ā you murmured, brushing a soft kiss against his shoulder.
Loganās hand slid up to cup the back of your neck, his thumb tracing a gentle line along your skin. āYou got somethinā to say, darlinā, just say it.ā
You closed your eyes, trying to find the words. āI just... I donāt want this to end.ā
The admission hung in the air between you, heavy and raw. Loganās grip on you tightened, his expression darkening.
āIt wonāt,ā he said quietly, and there was a fierceness in his voice that made your heart skip a beat. āNot if I have anything to say about it.ā
His words sent a shiver down your spine, and for the first time, you let yourself believeājust for a momentāthat maybe, just maybe, things could be different this time.
You pressed your forehead against his, your fingers tangling in his hair. āPromise?ā
Loganās breath was warm against your skin. āI aināt goinā anywhere, Y/N. Not this time.ā
Something about the way he said itālike there was more weight behind those words than you could fully understandāmade your chest ache. But you didnāt push for more.
Instead, you kissed him.
It was slow this time, tender in a way that made your heart twist painfully in your chest. Logan kissed you back just as softly, his hands cradling you like you were something precious.
And for a little while longer, you let yourself believe in the possibility of happiness.
---
The days you spent at the cabin away from everything with Logan were the closest you think youād ever get to heaven.
But of course, it had to come to an end. Logan walked you back to your house, keeping to the shadows where the trees thickened along the road. Luckily, George wasnāt home yet, but you knew heād be back soon. On Sundays, the men from the mines always went to the bar after church, spending what little money they had on whiskey before heading home for dinner.
Logan stopped a few steps short of the porch, his expression unreadable. His heavy boots crunched against the dirt, and he tilted his head, listening for signs of anyone nearby. It was quietājust the soft rustling of the wind through the trees and the distant caw of a crow.
āLooks clear,ā he muttered, glancing toward the road. Then his eyes were back on youāsharp, like he was committing every detail of this moment to memory.
You stood there, one hand gripping the hem of your plain cotton dress, the other clutching the shawl draped over your shoulders. It was getting colder, October creeping in around the edges.
Loganās jaw tightened, and for a long moment, neither of you spoke. He shifted his weight, arms folding across his chest. āYou sure youāre good?ā His voice was low, rough as gravel.
āIāll be fine,ā you whispered, but the words felt thin, like paper stretched too tight.
His eyes flicked over your face, lingering on the bruise near your jaw that hadnāt quite faded. You saw itāthe way his knuckles twitched like he wanted to tear something apart, or maybe someone. But Logan knew better than to push this conversation again. Youād had it more times than either of you cared to count.
āI mean it, Y/N,ā he said, quieter this time, but no less serious. āIf things getāā
āI know.ā You cut him off gently, giving a small nod. āI know where to find you.ā
Loganās lips pressed into a thin line, but he didnāt argue. The porch steps creaked under your weight as you climbed them slowly, heart heavy in your chest. You reached for the door, but before your fingers touched the worn wood, you felt his hand wrap gently around your wrist.
You turned, meeting his gaze.
āYou aināt alone in this,ā he said softly, his thumb brushing against the inside of your wrist. It was the kind of touch that made your knees weakāsteady, solid, full of unspoken promises.
āI know,ā you whispered, holding his gaze a second longer than you should have. Then you pulled your hand free, feeling the cold settle in the space where his warmth had been.
The door clicked quietly behind you, sealing you inside.
---
It was well into the afternoon by the time George came home. Youād set the table with what little you hadāa pot of boiled potatoes, bread that was more crust than loaf, and a pan of cold pork youād managed to stretch out since Friday.
George slammed the door behind him, the stench of sweat and beer clinging to his clothes. He tossed his flat cap onto the chair and grunted as he sat down heavily at the table.
āWhereās the roast?ā he asked, eyeing the measly spread with disapproval.
āThere wasnāt any.ā You kept your voice even, steady, though your hands trembled slightly as you placed the food in front of him.
George gave you a hard look, his lip curling in disgust. āUseless,ā he muttered under his breath, loud enough for you to hear.
You clenched your jaw, swallowing the sharp retort that burned on your tongue. Fighting him would only make it worse.
He ate in silence, the scrape of his knife against the plate the only sound in the small kitchen. When he finished, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and pushed his chair back with a loud scrape.
āGoinā to bed,ā he grumbled, already halfway out of the room before you could respond.
The knot in your stomach tightened, but you stayed still, standing in the middle of the kitchen long after the sound of his boots thudding down the hallway faded.
It was always like this. A dull, suffocating acheāday after day, night after night. And the worst part? You werenāt sure if you had the strength to keep pretending.
---
It was well past midnight when you slipped out the back door. The cold bit at your skin, and you pulled your shawl tighter around your shoulders as you made your way down the dirt path leading into the woods. The moon hung low in the sky, casting silver light across the clearing where Logan was waiting, his broad frame leaning against a tree trunk.
He looked up as you approached, his keen eyes catching the moonlight.
āFigured youād come.ā There was no smugness in his toneājust quiet understanding, like heād known all along that you wouldnāt be able to stay away.
You stopped a few feet from him, your breath clouding in the crisp night air. āI couldnāt do it,ā you admitted, your voice small.
Logan pushed off the tree and closed the distance between you in two strides. His hands came to rest on your shoulders, firm and grounding. āYou aināt gotta explain.ā
You looked up at him, heart aching with everything you wanted to say but couldnāt. Instead, you leaned forward, resting your forehead against his chest.
His arms wrapped around you, pulling you close. You felt the steady rise and fall of his breath, the quiet strength in the way he held youālike heād fight the whole world just to keep you safe.
āI missed you,ā you whispered, the words slipping out before you could stop them.
Loganās grip tightened. āI know,ā he murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.
For a while, neither of you spoke. The night stretched on around you, silent and still, as Loganās hands roamed up and down your back in slow, soothing strokes.
āYou stayinā tonight?ā he asked quietly, his breath warm against your hair.
You nodded, letting out a shaky breath. āJust tonight.ā
Logan didnāt argue. He never did.
He took your hand, lacing his rough fingers through yours, and led you deeper into the woodsāaway from the house, away from the life you were supposed to live.
And for one stolen night, you let yourself believe it was enough.
---
When you got home later that night, around 3 in the morning, everything looked normal. The lights in the house were all off, and it was quiet.
You hung your shawl on the hook by the door when you heard the clink of a bottle. Your heart sank. George was awake.
The small kitchen was dim, the only light coming from the dying embers of the fire. George sat slouched at the table, a nearly empty whiskey bottle in his hand. His eyes were dark, glazed over with drunken fury. You could tell by the set of his jaw, by the way his knuckles gripped the bottle too tight, that this wasnāt going to end well.
āWhereāve you been?ā His voice was low, but there was an edge to it. His chair scraped loudly against the floor as he stood, his steps heavy as he moved toward you.
āI went to clear my head,ā you said softly, keeping your voice calm, steady, though your heart pounded in your chest. āThe air helps me sleep.ā
George narrowed his eyes. āThat so? 'Cause Johnnyās wife told me somethin' different. Said she didnāt see you at the church retreat.ā
You froze. You had been at the retreatābrieflyābut it was a cover for your meeting with Logan, and Johnnyās wife mustāve been one of the few people you didnāt see. You opened your mouth to speak, but the words stuck in your throat.
āI was there,ā you managed, though you knew it wouldnāt matter.
George took another step toward you, his voice rising. āDonāt lie to me!ā His breath stank of alcohol as he spat the words at you, the anger radiating off him like heat. āWhat were you really doinā, Y/N? Who were you with?ā
Your stomach twisted in fear as his hand shot out, grabbing your arm hard enough to make you wince. āGeorge, pleaseāā you started, but he cut you off.
āI know you werenāt there. Where the hell were you?ā He shook you, his grip tightening painfully around your arm.
You winced, biting back a cry. āI told you, I was there.ā
But George wasnāt listening anymore. His eyes flicked to the door, then back to you, and a dangerous look settled across his face. āYou been sneakinā around on me, havenāt you?ā His voice was low, deadly now. He released your arm with a shove, sending you stumbling back a step. āYou think Iām stupid?ā
āGeorge, Iām not sneaking around,ā you said, trying to keep your voice calm even though your pulse was racing. āI just needed some air. Iāā
His hand moved faster than you expected, backhanding you hard across the face. Pain exploded through your cheek, and you stumbled, clutching the side of your face as tears sprang to your eyes.
āYou think I donāt know?ā George hissed, his face twisted with fury. āYouāve been leavinā me here, goinā off, God knows where. You aināt foolinā me, Y/N.ā
You took a shaky breath, tasting blood where your teeth had cut your lip. āGeorge, pleaseāā
But he was already moving, crossing the small kitchen in two heavy steps. You saw the glint of metal before he pulled the shotgun from the corner near the door. Panic seized you.
āGeorge, noāā Your voice broke as you held up your hands, trying to back away, but there was nowhere to go. The small kitchen felt like a cage, the walls closing in around you.
George leveled the shotgun at you, his hands shaking slightly but his eyes wild with rage. āYou think you can just leave? You think you can just run off whenever you please?ā
You felt like you were drowning, your heart pounding so hard in your chest it hurt. āI wasnāt leaving,ā you whispered, trying to keep your voice steady. āI wasnātāGeorge, please, put the gun down.ā
āShut up!ā he snarled, taking a step toward you. āYouāre lyinā! Youāve always been lyinā, and Iām done with it.ā
You were shaking, trying to think of something, anything that would get through to him. āIām your wife,ā you said quietly, desperately. āIāve never wanted to hurt you. Iāā
But the words didnāt matter. Nothing you said would stop this. You could see it in his eyesāthe cold, determined look of a man who had already made up his mind.
For a moment, everything felt frozen. The ticking of the old clock on the wall, the crackling of the dying fireāit all seemed too loud, too slow. Georgeās finger twitched on the trigger.
And then, in an instant, the world shattered.
The shotgun blast was deafening, the sound tearing through the small kitchen like thunder. You didnāt even feel the impact at firstājust a sharp, searing pain that spread through your chest, knocking the air from your lungs.
You stumbled, your legs giving out beneath you as you hit the floor hard, the cold tiles pressing against your cheek. Your breath came in short, shallow gasps, blood pooling around you.
The room swam, your vision dimming as you tried to focus, but all you could see was the dark shape of George standing over you, the shotgun still smoking in his hands.
---
Logan heard the shot before he smelled the blood.
His body reacted instinctively, his enhanced senses kicking into overdrive. Heād been lying awake, his thoughts consumed by you, when the sound echoed through the still night. There was no mistaking it.
His heart lurched in his chest, and without thinking, Logan bolted to his feet, running toward your house, his mind racing with fear. He knew. He knew it was you.
The smell of gunpowder hung thick in the air as he neared the house. Loganās breath caught in his throat when he saw the door slightly ajar, the soft light spilling out into the dark.
He pushed the door open, his claws already unsheathed.
The sight that greeted him froze him in place.
You were lying on the floor, a pool of blood spreading out around you, your breaths coming in shallow, painful gasps. And standing over you, his face twisted with something like confusion, was George.
Loganās vision blurred with red.
He didnāt thinkāhe just moved. In a blur, he was on George, his claws slashing through the air. There was a sickening crunch as the bone tore through flesh and bone, and then George was on the ground, lifeless.
Logan didnāt care. His only focus was you.
He dropped to his knees beside you, his hands hovering over your body, desperate to stop the bleeding, but there was too much. The wound was too deep. āY/N,ā he whispered, his voice rough, desperate. āStay with me.ā
Your eyes fluttered open, but it was hard to focus. Everything felt distant, like you were floating just out of reach of the world. You tried to speak, but the words wouldnāt come. Blood bubbled at your lips.
Loganās face hovered above yours, his expression shattered. āPlease, darlinā, hold on. Just hold on.ā
You coughed, the pain in your chest unbearable, and for a brief moment, your eyes met his. The world was fading fast now, slipping away like sand through your fingers.
āLogan...ā you managed, your voice barely a whisper.
His hand cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing away the tears you didnāt even realize had fallen. āIām here,ā he choked out. āIām here.ā
You smiled weakly, even as the darkness closed in around you. āI⦠I love you.ā
Loganās breath hitched, his grip on you tightening like he could somehow hold you to this world. But you knew, just as he did, that this was the end.
āI love you too,ā he whispered, his voice breaking.
Your chest ached, not just from the pain but from the weight of those wordsāthe weight of knowing this was goodbye.
And then, everything went still.
You felt Loganās hand in yours, the warmth of his touch lingering even as the world around you faded into darkness.
You werenāt afraid. Not anymore.
You were free.
Logan knelt there, holding you long after the last breath left your body, his heart breaking all over again.
in this chapter logan is 68 years old and reader is around 21-24 years old.
just a reminder that going forward there is going to be an age gap between the two since logan obviously keeps getting older.
i love you, in every time ąæā§ā 1880 - labyrinth of my heart
chapter summary: When walking the streets of Chicago he spots you across the street, so real, so alive. Logan takes this as a second chance; but fear slowly slithers up, making him wonder if he'll lose you all over again.
word count: 9.3k+
pairing: Logan Howlett x fem!reader
notes: first, i want to say thank you so much for the support and love for this series! this is way shorter than the first chapter, only because i wanted the ending to feel abrupt to hopefully make it feel more realistic. anyways, i'm super excited for next chapter since it's a concept i haven't ever really done before. but for now, enjoy this while it lasts :)
warnings/tags: fluff, angst, outdated mindsets on women, character death
series masterlist - chapter 1 ā chapter 3
Logan left New York City after you died, going back to Victor who told him exactly what he expected to hear, āyou shouldnāt have fallen in love,ā and āthe only people we can trust is each otherā.
The Civil War had begun seven years after your death as he and Victor fought for the North for four whole years. There was one thing he always kept with him, the ring he bought for you, that he never got to use. It stayed in his pocket at all times, never leaving, always there.
He had been doing the same thing he was doing before he met you, moving around the country, never staying in a spot for too long, doing odd jobs to stay afloat.
Logan found himself in Chicago, walking along the sidewalk, the faint sound of a train in the distance. The air was heavy with the scent of coal smoke, the city bustling with life in the late afternoon. Men in long coats and women in modest dresses hurried past him, some tipping their hats in his direction as he walked by. It was just another city to him, another place he would pass through on his way to nowhere in particular.
It had been 26 years since you died. Twenty-six long years, but to Logan, it still felt like yesterday. The weight of your loss hadnāt lessened. If anything, it had only grown heavier. Every town, every face he saw, reminded him of you in some way. That soft smile you always wore, the way youād brush your hair behind your ear when you were deep in thought. He kept your memory alive in the smallest of ways. The ring heād never had the chance to give you stayed in his pocket, its presence a constant, painful reminder.
He walked without a destination, his mind lost in the past as his feet carried him down the streets of Chicago. The city had a pulse of its own, far different from the quiet life in New York where youād once lived, where you had died in his arms. He hadn't felt truly alive since thenājust going through the motions of life, the decades slipping by as if time itself didnāt matter.
As Logan neared a small schoolhouse, something caught his eye. A group of children were gathered outside, their laughter echoing through the street as they played. But it wasnāt the children that caused Logan to stop. It was the woman standing among them, her smile bright as she helped one of the younger boys tie his shoe. The world around him seemed to blur, fading away as his gaze locked onto her.
It was you.
Loganās heart stilled in his chest. He blinked, sure that his eyes were playing tricks on him, but there you were, the same face, the same gentle presence. You looked exactly as you had all those years agoāmaybe a little younger, maybe a little different, but unmistakably you.
For a moment, he couldnāt move. He just stood there, watching you laugh with the children, completely unaware of his presence. His mind struggled to make sense of what he was seeing. You were dead. He had been there. He had held you as you took your last breath, felt the life leave your body. And yet, here you were, as if the last 26 years had never happened.
Loganās feet moved on their own, pulling him closer to the schoolyard. His heart pounded in his chest, his throat dry. His mind raced with a thousand questions. How could this be? Was it some kind of dream? A cruel trick?
But the closer he got, the more real you became. You were wearing a simple dress, your hair tied up in a way he hadnāt seen before, and yet everything about you felt so familiar. The way you carried yourself, the warmth in your eyes as you spoke to the childrenāit was all you.
āExcuse me, miss,ā he called out, his voice rougher than he intended.
You turned at the sound of his voice, your eyes meeting his for the first time, and Logan felt his heart lurch. It was like being thrown back in timeālike the years between this moment and the day you died had vanished. You looked at him with a polite curiosity, but there was no recognition in your eyes. No flicker of memory. To you, he was just a stranger.
āYes, can I help you?ā you asked, your voice soft, kind.
Loganās breath caught in his throat. He didnāt know what to say. How could he possibly explain what was running through his mind? How could he tell you that he had loved you, that he had lost you, and that nowāsomehowāyou were standing in front of him again?
āI... I thought I knew you,ā he said, his voice low, almost a whisper. He didnāt trust himself to say more. His hands clenched into fists at his sides, the ring in his pocket suddenly feeling heavier than ever.
You smiled, but it was the smile of someone trying to be polite, not of someone who knew him. āI donāt think weāve met before,ā you said. āIām Y/N. Iām the schoolteacher here.ā
Logan swallowed hard. Of course, you wouldnāt remember. You had no idea who he was, no memory of the life youād lived before. To you, this was just another day, another moment. But to Logan, it was everything. The realization hit him like a punch to the gut. You were here, alive again, but you werenāt his Y/N. Not yet, anyway.
āIām Logan,ā he finally managed, his voice thick with emotion he couldnāt hide. He couldnāt take his eyes off you, his heart aching in a way that felt both familiar and new.
You nodded, offering another warm smile. āItās nice to meet you, Logan. Was there something you needed?ā
Logan shook his head slowly, still reeling from the shock of seeing you again. āNo,ā he said quietly. āNo, I... I just thought you looked like someone I used to know.ā
You tilted your head slightly, a curious look in your eyes. āI get that sometimes. Chicagoās a big city, but it can feel small.ā
Logan nodded, though his mind was far from this moment. He couldnāt tear his gaze away from you, couldnāt shake the feeling that this was some kind of miracleāa second chance. But what could he do with it? Could he approach you, tell you everything? Or would that only drive you away?
Before he could say anything more, the school bell rang, and the children started to gather their things. You glanced back at the sound, then looked at him with an apologetic smile. āIām sorry, I have to get back to my class. But maybe Iāll see you around?ā
Logan nodded, his throat too tight to respond with words. He watched as you turned and walked back toward the schoolhouse, his heart aching with the weight of all the things he couldnāt say.
For the first time in 26 years, Logan felt hope stir in his chest. You were here. You were alive. And even if you didnāt remember him, even if you didnāt know who he was... he couldnāt walk away. Not this time.
---
Logan stayed near the schoolyard most afternoons, hidden just enough not to draw attention, watching you from a distance. It felt strange, almost painful, standing there, knowing you had no idea who he was. Every time you emerged from the schoolhouse with Ida, another schoolteacher, chatting and laughing, the urge to approach you tugged at him. But fear held him backāfear that youād think he was insane, or worse, that youād reject him outright.
He clenched his fists inside his coat pockets, feeling the cool metal of the ring press against his palm. It had been with him through wars, across states, through lifetimes. And now, here you were, alive again, and he still didnāt know what to do with it.
It was absurd, the way his heart raced just from seeing you walk down the street. How after all these yearsāafter so much paināhope could sneak its way back in. This wasnāt just a coincidence. It couldnāt be. Logan wasnāt the type to believe in magic or miracles, but what else could explain this?
As he lingered, the school bell rang, signaling the end of another day. Children poured out of the building, laughing and running. A few hung on your arms as you walked them down the steps, their chatter filling the air.
Logan shifted from foot to foot, nerves prickling along his spine. Just talk to her, idiot. Youāve been through worse.
But when you stepped into the street, Ida at your side as usual, the words died in his throat.
āY/N, you coming for dinner at my place tonight?ā Ida asked, tucking a stray curl beneath her bonnet.
You smiled, brushing your hands on your skirts. āCanāt tonight, but Iāll stop by tomorrow. The kids wore me out today.ā
Ida chuckled. āYouāll turn into an old maid before youāre thirty at this rate.ā
You rolled your eyes, but your laugh was warm. Logan felt the sound of it settle deep in his chestālike an old memory coming back to life. It was a laugh he hadnāt heard in 26 years, and it took everything in him not to run to you right then and there.
As you and Ida turned the corner toward the tenement, Logan followed at a distance. His heart hammered against his ribs. He just needed a moment, a chance to say somethingāanything.
Finally, the two of you paused outside the building. Ida gave you a quick hug before heading upstairs, leaving you alone on the stoop. You stood there for a moment, adjusting your shawl against the evening chill.
This is it. Now or never.
Logan forced his feet to move, crossing the street toward you.
You looked up as he approached, a little surprised but not alarmed. āLogan, wasnāt it?ā
His throat felt tight, but he gave a short nod. āYeah. Logan.ā
You smiled softly, the same kind smile that had haunted his dreams. āWhat brings you by?ā
He cleared his throat, trying to find the right words. āI... Iāve been meaning to talk to you.ā
Your brow furrowed slightly, but there was no fear, only curiosity. āAbout what?ā
Logan shifted his weight, his hands tightening around the edges of his coat. The ring in his pocket seemed to burn against his skin, a reminder of everything unsaid.
āI... You remind me of someone,ā he admitted, voice low. āSomeone I lost a long time ago.ā
You studied him for a moment, your gaze steady but gentle. āIām sorry,ā you said quietly. āThat mustāve been hard.ā
Loganās jaw clenched. āYeah,ā he muttered. āIt was.ā
There was a beat of silence between youāheavy, charged with the weight of all the things Logan couldnāt say. You didnāt know him, didnāt know what youād meant to him in another life, but standing here, so close to you again, it felt like the world had tilted back into place.
āYou... wanna walk for a bit?ā Logan asked suddenly, the words tumbling out before he could stop them.
You hesitated, but only for a moment. Something in his expression mustāve stirred your kindness, because you nodded. āAlright.ā
The two of you started down the sidewalk together, the city humming around you. Logan kept his hands stuffed in his pockets, fingers brushing the ring again and again like a talisman.
āSo, how long have you been in Chicago?ā you asked, glancing over at him.
Logan shrugged. āNot long. Just passing through.ā
You gave a small smile. āItās a good place to get lost in for a while.ā
He huffed a quiet laugh. āYeah. Guess so.ā
The conversation fell into a comfortable rhythm after thatāsmall talk, nothing too deep. Logan told you bits and pieces about his travels, careful not to reveal too much. He learned that youād moved to Chicago a couple of years ago, taking the teaching job because it felt right.
āIāve always liked working with kids,ā you said with a soft smile. āThereās something... hopeful about it, you know?ā
Logan nodded, though hope had been a foreign concept to him for a long time. But walking beside you now, listening to your voice, he felt something stir in himāa flicker of warmth he thought heād lost forever.
As the evening deepened and the sky turned a dusky purple, you reached your building again. You stopped on the stoop, turning to face him.
āThank you for the walk,ā you said, your smile gentle. āIt was nice.ā
Logan nodded, his heart heavy with everything he wanted to say but couldnāt. āYeah. It was.ā
For a moment, it felt like time stood stillālike the universe had bent just enough to give him this moment with you. And even though you didnāt remember him, didnāt know the history you shared, Logan knew he couldnāt let you slip away again.
āY/N...ā he began, his voice low, almost hesitant.
You tilted your head, waiting.
He swallowed hard, the words catching in his throat. āCan I see you again?ā
Your smile widened, something warm flickering in your eyes. āIād like that.ā
Logan gave a short nod, his heart pounding against his ribs.
āGood,ā he murmured.
And for the first time in 26 years, Logan allowed himself to believeājust for a momentāthat maybe, just maybe, heād found his way back to you.
---
You had taken up Idaās offer after all, you lived in the same building so it wasnāt like it was out of the way for you.
āOh, hey! Thought you werenāt gonna come by.ā
You shrugged, taking off your shawl, āchanged my mind.ā You sat down on the couch and told Ida about your walk with Logan, and she listened intently.
āIām surprised you hadnāt noticed him. Heās been watching the schoolyard for the past few weeks.ā
"Wait, what do you mean, āheās been watching the schoolyard for weeks?āā you asked, your brows knitting together as you leaned forward.
Ida waved her hand dismissively but gave you a sly smile. āOh, donāt get the wrong idea. He hasnāt been creepy about it or anything. Just... noticed him hanging around, thatās all. Kind of hard to miss a guy like that, donāt you think?ā
You blinked, a sudden flush creeping up your neck. āA guy like what?ā
āOh, come on, Y/N,ā she teased, sitting down across from you. āTall, rugged... that serious, brooding look. Youāre telling me you didnāt notice? Heās practically been glued to the corner across from the schoolhouse for days.ā
You chewed on your bottom lip, thinking back to the walk youād just had with Logan. You hadnāt seen him watching the school, but now that Ida mentioned it... there had been something in his eyes. A familiarity you couldnāt quite place, like he was looking at you but seeing somethingāor someoneāelse.
āI didnāt know he was hanging around,ā you admitted, glancing down at your hands. āBut... he seems kind. Sad, but kind.ā
Ida leaned back, crossing her arms over her chest with a thoughtful hum. āSad, huh? You picked up on that, too?ā
You nodded, feeling a strange tightness in your chest. There had been a weight to Loganās presence, something unspoken in his voice, like he was carrying the world on his shoulders. And then there was the way he looked at youālike he wanted to say something but couldnāt bring himself to.
āYou think heās okay?ā you asked quietly.
Ida shrugged, her teasing expression softening. āWho knows? The worldās a tough place. We all got our own burdens to carry. But... maybe heās looking for something.ā
āLooking for what?ā
āMaybe someone to share the load,ā she replied with a small smile, her eyes twinkling. āMaybe that someoneās you.ā
You shook your head, the idea seeming too far-fetched. āI donāt even know him, Ida. I mean, we just talked for the first time today.ā
āHey, stranger things have happened,ā Ida said, getting up to grab a pot of tea from the stove. āYou felt something, right? Thatās not nothing.ā
You sighed, leaning back against the couch. āI guess. He did say I reminded him of someone he lost.ā
Ida paused, setting the teapot down carefully. āLost, huh? That would explain the sad part. But... why hang around you then? Whatās he hoping to find?ā
āI donāt know,ā you murmured, more to yourself than to her. The idea that Logan had been watching you, even unknowingly, made something stir in your chestāa mix of curiosity and something you couldnāt quite name.
Ida handed you a cup of tea, sitting back down beside you. āWell, maybe next time you see him, you can ask.ā
You looked up at her, one eyebrow raised. āAsk him why heās hanging around the schoolyard?ā
Ida laughed softly. āMaybe not that bluntly, but yeah. Thereās something about him, Y/N. Might be worth finding out what.ā
You sipped the tea, the warmth spreading through you. Maybe Ida was right. Maybe Logan was carrying something heavy, and maybeājust maybeāyou could help.
---
The next day, you found yourself more aware of your surroundings as you walked to the schoolhouse. Every sound, every movement seemed sharper. You scanned the street, looking for a familiar figure, but Logan wasnāt thereāat least, not that you could see.
The day went on as usual, though you felt a bit distracted, your mind drifting to the walk youād shared with him. There was something about Logan that pulled at you, a quiet intensity that you couldnāt shake. He was a mystery, and part of you wanted to solve it.
When the school day ended, you lingered outside a little longer than usual, hopingāhalf-expectingāthat he might show up again. The children ran off, their laughter echoing down the street as they disappeared into their homes. You smiled at the sight, but your thoughts were elsewhere.
āLooking for someone?ā
You jumped slightly, turning to find Logan standing just a few feet away. He had approached so quietly you hadnāt even heard him.
āLogan,ā you said, surprised but not unwelcome. āI didnāt see you.ā
He gave a small shrug, his hands shoved into his coat pockets. āDidnāt mean to sneak up on you.ā
You smiled softly, your heartbeat slowing as the initial surprise wore off. āItās alright. Just didnāt expect to see you today.ā
Logan shifted his weight, his gaze flicking to the ground for a moment before meeting yours again. āI wanted to see if youād like to take another walk. If youāre not too tired, that is.ā
You hesitated, but only for a second. There was something in his voiceāsomething vulnerable, almost hesitant. And despite not knowing him well, you found yourself wanting to say yes.
āIād like that,ā you said, stepping down from the schoolhouse stoop.
The two of you started walking again, this time in a different direction, the afternoon sun casting long shadows over the street. For a while, neither of you spoke. It was a comfortable silence, though, the kind that didnāt need to be filled with words. Logan walked beside you, his steps steady but deliberate, like he was trying to figure something out.
āWhyāve you been hanging around the school?ā you finally asked, your curiosity getting the better of you. āIda said she noticed you there for a while.ā
Loganās jaw tightened slightly, and he didnāt answer right away. When he did, his voice was quiet. āI wasnāt trying to... I donāt know. I guess I was just... drawn there.ā
āDrawn there?ā you echoed, glancing up at him.
He nodded, his gaze fixed ahead. āYeah. Like I said before, you remind me of someone.ā
You didnāt press, sensing that whatever it was, it was personal. Instead, you walked in silence for a few more steps before Logan stopped abruptly.
āI donāt want to make you uncomfortable,ā he said, turning to face you fully. His eyes were intense, but there was something almost apologetic in them. āIf I am, just tell me, and Iāll leave you alone.ā
You shook your head quickly. āNo, youāre not making me uncomfortable.ā
Logan studied your face, his expression unreadable for a moment. Then he gave a small nod, almost as if he was relieved.
āAlright,ā he said quietly.
The conversation shifted after that, lightening as you talked about small thingsāthe city, your students, even the weather. Logan listened more than he spoke, but you could feel him relax bit by bit, the tension in his posture easing as the afternoon wore on.
When you reached your building again, Logan stopped with you on the stoop. There was a moment of hesitation, like he wasnāt sure if he should stay or go.
āIāll see you tomorrow?ā you asked, offering him a small smile.
Logan looked at you for a long beat before nodding. āYeah. Tomorrow.ā
As you turned to head inside, you couldnāt help but glance back over your shoulder. Logan was still standing there, watching you with that same look in his eyesāthe one that made you feel like you were more than just a stranger to him.
And in that moment, you realized... you didnāt want to be just a stranger to him either.
---
After about a week of Logan walking you home, it became a familiar routine. Each time, youād stand on the stoop, exchanging a few words before youād head inside, always with that lingering feeling of something left unsaid. But tonight was differentāthe air was colder, and the wind was biting, so when you reached your building, you didnāt hesitate.
āYouāre not going out in that cold again,ā you said firmly, reaching for his arm. He tensed slightly under your touch, but you ignored it, tugging him toward the door. āTen minutes outside in the cold, you need to warm up before you go.ā
Logan didnāt protest, but you could sense his hesitation. He glanced around the dimly lit hallway as you led him up the stairs to your small apartment.
āDonāt worry,ā you teased, trying to lighten the mood. āI wonāt keep you long. Just until you can feel your fingers again.ā
He gave a small, almost imperceptible nod, following you inside. Once you were both in, you motioned for him to sit down on the worn couch, tossing your shawl onto a chair as you made your way to the stove to boil some water for tea.
Logan stood there for a moment, his eyes scanning the modest space, before finally sitting down. His presence seemed to fill the room, making it feel smaller, more intimate.
āYou donāt gotta fuss,ā he muttered, his gruff voice breaking the silence. āIām alright.ā
āHumor me,ā you replied with a soft smile, setting a kettle on the stove. āBesides, Iāve been dragging you along on these walks. Least I can do is make sure youāre not freezing to death.ā
Logan huffed a quiet laugh, leaning back into the couch. His eyes followed your movements, though his expression stayed guarded. He looked... cautious, like he wasnāt sure how to be here with you, in this space. It was strange, this carefulness, coming from a man who seemed so unbreakable.
āWhy donāt you tell me more about yourself?ā you asked, turning to face him while the water heated up. āWeāve been walking for a week, and I feel like I barely know you.ā
Loganās gaze shifted, and you could tell he was weighing his words. āNot much to tell,ā he said after a beat. āJust a guy whoās been around a while.ā
You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms. āThatās it? No family, no friends? You just... wander?ā
He looked down at his hands, his fingers idly tracing the worn fabric of the couch. āHad family once. Friends, too. Lost most of āem.ā
There was a heaviness in his voice, and you could feel the weight of his words. You didnāt push him, though. Instead, you poured the hot water into two cups, walking over and handing him one.
āSorry,ā you said softly. āThat mustāve been hard.ā
Logan took the cup but didnāt drink right away. He stared down into the tea, his expression unreadable. āLifeās hard for everyone,ā he muttered, more to himself than to you.
You sat down beside him, the warmth from the cup seeping into your hands. For a while, the two of you sat in silence, sipping tea and letting the quiet fill the space. There was something about being near him that made you feel calm, like the world slowed down for a little while when he was around.
āWhyād you let me walk with you?ā Logan asked suddenly, his voice rougher than before.
You blinked, caught off guard by the question. āWhat do you mean?ā
āYou donāt know me,ā he said, shaking his head slightly. āMost people wouldnāt... Theyād be scared, or theyād push me away. But you... you let me stay.ā
You frowned, trying to find the right words. āI donāt know... I guess I just felt like... I should.ā You shrugged, feeling a little self-conscious under his intense gaze. āBesides, youāre not exactly a scary guy. Brooding, sure, but not scary.ā
A small, barely-there smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. āYouāre not afraid of much, are you?ā
You laughed softly, shaking your head. āNot really. I mean, whatās the point of being afraid? Lifeās hard enough without worrying about things that might not even happen.ā
Loganās smile faded, replaced by that familiar look of sadness. He stared into his cup for a moment, then set it down on the table in front of him. āYeah,ā he muttered. āGuess youāre right.ā
The silence stretched between you again, but this time it felt heavier, like there was something unsaid hanging in the air. You could feel it, pressing down on both of you, but neither of you seemed ready to break it.
Finally, Logan stood up, his movements slow and deliberate. āI should go,ā he said, though he didnāt make a move toward the door.
You stood up too, your heart pounding a little harder than usual. āLogan...ā
He turned to face you, his eyes dark and full of something you couldnāt quite place. āYeah?ā
You took a step closer, your hand reaching out to touch his arm again. āYou donāt have to carry it all alone,ā you said softly.
For a moment, he just looked at you, his expression unreadable. Then, without saying a word, he nodded once, a silent acknowledgment that you didnāt need to explain.
āIāll see you tomorrow,ā he said quietly before turning to leave.
You watched him go, your heart heavy but hopeful. There was something between youāsomething unspoken, something oldāand you werenāt ready to let it go.
Not yet.
---
It had taken a few more days to convince Logan to come back into your apartment. You werenāt sure how you convinced him this time, but you were happy that you did.
Your apartment smelled nice and homey. Before you had left for work, you had put bread in the oven to bake, and now, as you came back home with Logan in tow, it was finished. The warm, inviting scent of freshly baked bread filled the room as you stepped inside. Logan hesitated in the doorway, lingering for a moment before following you in, his expression unreadable but curious.
You busied yourself with the bread, slicing into the crust and offering Logan a piece. He took it, though his attention seemed more focused on you than the food.
"Thanks," he muttered, taking a bite.
You smiled, trying to ignore the way your heart sped up just from him being here. "I was thinking..." you started, turning to grab a couple of plates from the cupboard. "Maybe we could go into the city tomorrow? Itās market day. There's a lot to see, and itād be nice to get out of the schoolhouse routine for a bit."
Logan raised an eyebrow, leaning back against the counter. "Market, huh?"
"Yeah, you know, just... walk around. Maybe pick up a few things." You looked over at him, half expecting him to decline, but to your surprise, he didnāt.
"Alright," he said, his voice low but without hesitation. "Iāll come with you."
You smiled, feeling a small flutter of excitement in your chest. "Great. Itāll be fun. I promise."
---
The next day, you found yourself walking through the bustling streets of Chicago with Logan by your side. The market was crowded, full of people haggling and chatting, the air thick with the smell of fresh produce, spices, and the occasional whiff of roasting meat. It was a world away from the quiet walks you'd shared, and you could feel Logan's unease in the busy atmosphere. But he stayed close, his hand brushing yours more than once as you wove through the crowd.
"Do you come here often?" Logan asked, his eyes scanning the vendors with mild interest.
"Once or twice a month," you replied. "I like the energy here. Makes the city feel alive, you know?"
Logan grunted in response, though he didnāt seem entirely convinced. You could tell he wasnāt used to thisābeing around so many peopleābut he stuck close to you, his presence protective without being overbearing.
After a while, you stopped at a stall selling flowers. The colors were vibrant, a burst of life in the middle of the dusty street. You picked up a small bouquet of wildflowers, smiling as you held them up.
"These are my favorite," you said, glancing up at Logan. "They're simple but... I don't know, they make me happy."
Loganās gaze softened as he looked at the flowers in your hand, then back at you. There was something in his eyes, a flicker of something unspoken, but he didnāt say anything. Instead, he reached into his coat and pulled out a few coins, handing them to the vendor before you could protest.
"Logan, you donāt have toā"
"Consider it a thank you," he said quietly, cutting you off. "For the bread."
You blinked, surprised but touched by the gesture. "Well, thank you."
He nodded, and the two of you continued walking, the flowers resting in the crook of your arm as the city bustled around you. For a while, you walked in comfortable silence, the sounds of the market fading into the background as the two of you wandered further from the busy streets. Eventually, you found a quiet park at the edge of the city, a small, peaceful space away from the noise.
You sat down on a bench, feeling the cool breeze brush against your skin. Logan sat beside you, his posture relaxed but his eyes always scanning the area, as if he couldnāt fully let his guard down.
"Do you ever stop looking over your shoulder?" you asked, half teasing but curious.
Loganās mouth twitched into a small smile, though it didnāt quite reach his eyes. "Old habit."
You studied him for a moment, sensing there was more behind those words. He had a way of holding himself, like he was always ready for something, always waiting. It made you wonder just how much heād seen, how much heād lived through.
"Iām glad you came with me today," you said softly, looking out at the park. "I feel like Iāve been stuck in a routine for a while now. Itās nice to just... do something different."
Logan glanced at you, his gaze lingering a little longer than usual. "Iām glad I came too," he admitted, his voice low.
There was something in the way he said it, something that made your heart skip a beat. The air between you felt different, charged with a quiet tension that neither of you seemed willing to break. You wondered if he felt it tooāthe strange pull between you, like something just beneath the surface was waiting to be uncovered.
After a long pause, Logan spoke again. "I aināt good at... this." He gestured vaguely, his brow furrowing as he searched for the right words. "Being close to people."
You turned to him, surprised by the admission. "Youāre doing fine," you said gently.
Loganās jaw clenched slightly, and he shook his head. "Itās not that simple."
You felt a pang of somethingāsympathy, maybe, or understanding. Whatever it was, it made you reach out, your hand lightly brushing his. "You donāt have to explain," you said softly. "I get it."
Loganās eyes flickered down to where your hand rested near his. For a moment, he didnāt move. Then, slowly, he turned his hand over, his rough fingers brushing against yours in the faintest of touches. It wasnāt much, but it felt like a stepālike maybe, just maybe, he was letting you in.
---
As you walked to the tenement building after work one day, you glanced over at Logan. āYou ever been to the exhibition hall in the city?ā
Logan looked over to you, slightly puzzled by the question. āThe exhibition?ā
You nodded, turning toward him. āThereās a display of inventions and art from all over. I heard theyāve got this new thingāelectric lights. I was thinking about going this weekend, and⦠maybe youād like to come with me?ā
For a moment, Logan just stared at you, as if unsure what to say. The idea of stepping out into the city, surrounded by people, probably wasnāt something he did often. But he shifted slightly, his eyes softening in that way they did when you caught him off guard.
āYou want me to go with you?ā he asked, a hint of surprise in his voice.
āWell, yeah,ā you said, smiling. āWeāve been walking the same few streets for days. Thought it might be nice to do something different. Besides, Iām curious about those lights. They say itās going to change the way people live.ā
Logan gave a low, thoughtful hum, and for a moment, you worried he might decline. But then he nodded slowly, his expression softening further. āAlright. Iāll go.ā
Your smile widened. āGreat! We can meet at my place on Saturday afternoon, then head out.ā
The conversation drifted back into easier topicsāyour students, a new bakery that had opened nearby, and the way the city seemed to grow busier every day. But beneath it all, you couldnāt shake the feeling that this small invitation marked a shift, a way to see more of who Logan was beyond the quiet man who walked beside you in silence. Maybe out in the world, youād understand him better.
---
Saturday came quickly, and the two of you walked side by side through the busy streets, the sounds of horses and carriages filling the air. You led Logan through the bustling avenues toward the exhibition hall, your excitement barely contained.
āEver seen anything like this?ā you asked, glancing up at him as the towering hall came into view.
Loganās eyes flicked over the building, a hint of amusement tugging at the corner of his mouth. āNot in a while.ā
Inside, the hall was a wonder of modern marvels. Booths lined with mechanical inventions, sculptures, and paintings from around the world. The hum of excitement filled the air, and the bright new electric lights cast a strange, almost magical glow over everything.
You wandered the displays together, your curiosity leading the way. Logan stayed close, his attention less on the inventions and more on you. Every now and then, he'd glance at a piece of machinery or a strange-looking contraption, but his eyes kept drifting back to your face, watching the way your expression changed with each new discovery.
"This is incredible," you murmured, leaning in to get a closer look at a large machine labeled as an āautomatic loom.ā You smiled at Logan, your excitement clear. "Can you imagine how much time this would save?"
Logan nodded, though you could tell his thoughts were elsewhere. "Yeah, I can see how it'd be useful."
You moved to the next display, but Logan lingered for a moment. When he finally caught up, you were already studying a paintingāa soft, pastoral scene that contrasted with the industrial energy around you.
"It's beautiful, isnāt it?" you said, glancing at him.
Loganās gaze flicked to the painting, but quickly returned to you. "Yeah," he said, though it was clear he wasnāt talking about the art.
You felt his eyes on you again and looked up, meeting his gaze. There was something thereāsomething that made your heart skip. Logan had always been protective, always hovering just close enough to shield you if need be. But this felt different, like there was more to it now.
"You sure this aināt boring for you?" you asked, trying to lighten the moment. "I know youāre not one for crowds."
Logan gave a quiet grunt, his version of a chuckle. "Itās fine. Long as youāre enjoying yourself."
You smiled, touched by the sentiment. "I am. Thanks for coming with me."
For a while, you wandered together in silence, taking in the sights and sounds of the exhibition hall. The crowds around you buzzed with excitement, but the space between you and Logan felt almost separateālike the world had shrunk to just the two of you.
At one point, you stopped in front of a display showcasing early electric light bulbs. "Look at that," you said, pointing to the glass bulbs flickering with soft light. "Theyāre saying these will replace gas lamps soon."
Logan raised an eyebrow. "Doesnāt seem right, replacing something thatās worked for so long."
"Change is good sometimes," you said, glancing at him. "It keeps things moving forward."
Logan met your eyes, his expression soft but thoughtful. "Guess Iāve never been good with change."
You tilted your head slightly, sensing the weight behind his words. "Maybe you just havenāt found the right reason to embrace it yet."
For a moment, Logan didnāt respond. His gaze lingered on you, like he was trying to make sense of something. Then, slowly, he nodded. "Maybe."
As the afternoon wore on, the two of you eventually stepped outside the exhibition hall, the sun low in the sky and the cityās evening glow starting to take over. The air felt cooler now, a welcome relief after the warmth of the crowded hall.
You walked beside Logan in comfortable silence, but the charged undercurrent between you hadnāt faded. It felt like something had shiftedālike youād both acknowledged a deeper connection, even if neither of you had fully put it into words yet.
"You want to get something to eat?" Logan asked, breaking the silence.
"Sure," you said, smiling up at him. "Thereās a place not far from here. They make the best stew."
Logan nodded, falling into step beside you again as you made your way toward the small restaurant you had in mind. The quiet between you was easy, but there was an unspoken understanding that something had changed between the two of you today. Neither of you said it out loud, but you didnāt need to.
As you entered the restaurant, the warm scent of food filled the air, and you found a table near the back, away from the main crowd. Logan took the seat across from you, his eyes scanning the room out of habit, but eventually settling back on you.
"This place isnāt so bad," he said, giving a small nod of approval.
You laughed softly. "Glad it meets your standards."
Logan smirked, but there was a softness behind it. As the two of you talked over dinner, you realized just how much you enjoyed moments like thisāquiet, simple, yet meaningful. It wasnāt about grand gestures or fancy places; it was about being together, about the way Logan made you feel safe and seen.
---
One day, after inviting Logan into your apartment once again, you set out to make tea like you always do.
You felt a cough building up in your throat, so you grabbed a small handkerchief from the counter and coughed into it. You had seen the school doctor while you were at work, and he said you just had a mild cold.
Logan, who was sitting on the couch, immediately turned his head to you, his heart almost beating out of his chest. Heād heard that cough beforeā26 years ago.
"Y/N?" he asked, his voice low, almost hesitant.
You turned around, still holding the handkerchief to your mouth. "Yeah?" you answered casually, noticing the tension in his voice but thinking nothing of it. āJust a little cough, nothing serious. I saw the doctor earlier, and he said itās just a cold.ā
Logan stood up slowly, his eyes fixed on you, his expression unreadable. He took a step closer, his mind racing back to 1854, to your last daysābedridden and coughing, just like this. He had lost you then, watching helplessly as the illness took you. He couldn't shake the feeling, the memory, and the fear that history might repeat itself.
"Cold, huh?" he said, trying to keep his voice steady, but there was an edge to it.
"Yeah, no big deal." You smiled, folding the handkerchief and putting it back in your pocket. "Really, Logan, Iām fine."
Loganās jaw tightened. He had seen too much, lived too long to believe in coincidence. This was too familiar, too painful. And yet, here you wereāalive, vibrant. This time, he couldnāt lose you again. He wouldn't.
"You should take it easy," he said, stepping closer, his tone gentler now. "You been workin' too hard at that school."
You raised an eyebrow, sensing his concern but not quite understanding the depth of it. "Iām fine, really. Itās just a little cold. Nothing that rest and tea wonāt fix."
Logan didnāt argue, but the worry in his eyes didnāt fade. He reached out, his hand hovering for a moment before he gently brushed his fingers against your arm, grounding himself in the fact that you were here, with him. This wasnāt 1854. But the memory haunted him.
You noticed the way he was looking at you, his eyes searching yours like he was afraid to lose you. "Hey," you said softly, resting a hand on his. "Whatās really going on?"
Loganās breath hitched for a moment, and he fought the urge to pull you closer, to tell you everything. But how could he? How could he explain that youād been here beforeāthat heād watched you die, that heād loved you once in another life, in another time? Instead, he just shook his head, the weight of those memories too heavy to share.
"Just... donāt push yourself too hard," he said, his voice quieter now. "Iāve seen people get worse when they donāt take care of themselves."
You nodded, though his intensity still lingered in your mind. "I promise, Iāll rest." You gave him a reassuring smile, trying to lighten the mood. "Besides, youāll make sure I do, right?"
Loganās lips quirked into the smallest smile, but there was still something distant in his eyes. "Yeah," he said softly. "I will."
The moment hung in the air, the unspoken weight of Loganās past pressing down on him, though you couldnāt see it. You were the same, and yet not. The woman he had once loved and lost was standing right in front of him, alive, but without any memory of that life youād shared.
---
You didnāt see Logan for a few days, which was unusual, ever since he started walking with you he had never missed a day.
You couldnāt help but worry a tad bit, it wasnāt like him to just not be there. Even Ida had made a few comments, including now as you sat in her apartment, just a few doors down from your own, sipping tea.
āHe hasnāt been by at all?ā Ida asked, her brow furrowed with concern. āThat man never misses a day. Heās usually lurking outside, waitinā to walk you home.ā
You nodded, biting your lip. āYeah, I noticed. Itās been three days now.ā
Ida leaned forward, her hands folded on the table. āYou donāt think somethinās happened to him, do ya? That man is tough, sure, but even the toughest get into trouble sometimes.ā
You shook your head quickly, not wanting to entertain the thought. āNo, Iām sure heās fine. Maybe he just needed some time alone. Heās... not the type to explain himself much.ā
Ida hummed, though she didnāt look convinced. āMaybe. But if he doesnāt show up soon, you ought to go find him. Heās a good man, Y/N, and youāve only known him a month, but itās clear he cares about you.ā
The truth of her words settled over you, heavy and unspoken. You cared about Logan too. Even if you didnāt quite understand the pull between you, it was thereāundeniable. And the fact that he hadnāt shown up, without so much as a word, made your chest tighten with worry.
Later that evening, after youād left Idaās apartment and returned to your own, you couldnāt shake the uneasy feeling. Logan had become part of your routine, part of your day-to-day life. And now that he was gone, it felt like something was missing.
Just as you were about to turn in for the night, a knock sounded at the door.
Your heart jumped, and you rushed to open it, half expectingāhalf hopingāit would be Logan.
And there he was.
He stood in the doorway, his coat damp from the light rain outside, his hair slightly tousled. His eyes, though, were what caught youāthe familiar intensity, but with something else lurking beneath. Something darker.
āLogan,ā you breathed, stepping aside to let him in. āWhere have you been? I was starting to get worried.ā
Logan stepped into your small apartment, his broad frame somehow filling the space, making it feel even smaller. He didnāt say anything right away, just ran a hand through his hair and exhaled sharply, as if he were trying to gather his thoughts.
āI needed time,ā he finally said, his voice low and gravelly.
āTime for what?ā you asked gently, sensing that whatever he was about to say wasnāt easy for him.
Logan glanced at you, then looked away, as if he couldnāt meet your eyes. His jaw tightened, and you could see the struggle on his faceālike he was wrestling with something deep inside. After a long pause, he spoke again, quieter this time.
āIām scared,ā he admitted, the words sounding foreign in his mouth, like he wasnāt used to saying them.
You blinked, taken aback. Logan was the last person you ever expected to hear those words from. āScared of what?ā
His eyes flickered up to meet yours, and you saw the vulnerability there, raw and unguarded. āOf losing you,ā he said, his voice barely above a whisper.
You stared at him, your heart pounding in your chest. āLogan⦠weāve only known each other for a month,ā you said softly, though the words felt strange even as they left your mouth. Because deep down, it felt like youād known him much longerālike this connection between you was more than just a month in the making.
āI know,ā Logan said, his voice rough. āBut it doesnāt change how I feel.ā
There was something in the way he was looking at you, something desperate and pained, like he was holding onto you with everything he had. You wanted to ask him why, to understand what had happened in his past to make him feel this way. But instead, you just reached out, your hand finding his.
āIām not going anywhere,ā you said quietly, squeezing his hand gently. āIām right here.ā
Loganās breath hitched, and before you could say anything more, he stepped closer, his hand cupping the side of your face. His thumb brushed your cheek, his touch rough but gentle, and for a moment, the world around you seemed to fall away. It was just the two of you, standing in the quiet of your apartment, the air between you thick with unspoken words.
And then, without warning, he leaned in and kissed you.
It wasnāt a gentle kiss. It was urgent, almost desperate, like he was trying to tell you everything he couldnāt put into words. His lips moved against yours with a fierceness that took your breath away, and for a moment, all you could do was hold onto him, your fingers curling into the fabric of his coat as you kissed him back.
When he finally pulled away, his forehead rested against yours, his breath warm against your skin. His hand still cupped your cheek, his thumb gently brushing along your jawline.
āI canāt lose you,ā he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.
Your heart ached at the raw honesty in his words, and you wanted to promise him that he wouldnātāthat you were here, that you werenāt going anywhere. But something about the way he said it made you hesitate, made you wonder what he wasnāt telling you.
āLoganā¦ā you started, your voice soft. āWhat arenāt you telling me?ā
For a long moment, he didnāt answer. His hand dropped from your face, and he took a step back, his expression guarded once again. The walls heād let down just moments ago seemed to be rising back up.
āIāve lived a long time,ā he said finally, his voice low. āIāve lost people before. People I cared about. I canāt⦠I canāt go through that again.ā
You felt a pang in your chest at his words, but there was something else there tooāsomething unspoken. āLogan⦠who did you lose?ā
His eyes flickered with pain, but he didnāt answer. Instead, he just shook his head, as if he couldnāt bring himself to say it out loud.
You wanted to press him, to understand, but you also knew that Logan wasnāt someone who opened up easily. So instead, you just stepped closer, wrapping your arms around him in a gentle hug. He stiffened at first, but then his arms slowly came around you, pulling you close as if he was afraid to let go.
āIām here,ā you whispered against his chest. āIām not going anywhere.ā
For now, that was all you could offer him. And for now, it seemed to be enough.
---
You and Ida sat in the back of the rattling carriage, bundled against the cold, the wheels creaking beneath the weight of your bags from the market. The late afternoon sky was heavy with clouds, promising rain before nightfall and a storm by morning.
āSupposed to come down hard tomorrow,ā Ida said, clutching her shawl tighter. āGlad we got everything done now. Donāt wanna be caught in that mess.ā
You smiled, shifting a bag of potatoes off your lap. āItāll be nice to have an excuse to stay in and rest. Loganās been after me about taking it easy anyway.ā
Ida gave you a knowing look, her brow lifting. āThat man likes you, Y/N. More than you think.ā
You shrugged, though your cheeks warmed slightly. āI know he cares. Heās just⦠different. Keeps to himself.ā
āHeās different, alright,ā Ida muttered, peering out the carriage window. āBut heās not the type to care about someone without good reason. Donāt let that one get away.ā
You didnāt respond, but your thoughts drifted to Loganāhow he had kissed you that night, holding you like you were the only thing keeping him grounded. There was something ancient in his touch, like he had carried the weight of loss for far too long. You didnāt fully understand it, but you felt itāsomething deeper than words or time.
The carriage jolted suddenly, jerking you forward in your seat. The horse up front whinnied, wild and panicked.
āWhoa!ā the driver shouted, yanking hard on the reins.
You clutched Idaās arm, your heart racing. āWhatās going on?ā
The driver cursed, standing in his seat to get a better look. āThe damn harness snapped! The horseāā
Before he could finish, the horse bolted, the broken leather straps slapping wildly behind it. The carriage lurched, and you and Ida were thrown sideways. The wheels screamed as they spun out of control, the driver shouting as he fought to keep it steady.
āHold on!ā he yelled.
The world tilted violently as the carriage careened off the road, slamming into a ditch. Bags spilled across the floor, and you hit your shoulder hard against the side wall. Idaās scream filled your ears, but the noise was drowned out by the thunder of the collapsing carriage, wood splintering and wheels buckling beneath the weight.
And thenānothing.
The carriage stopped, shuddering to a halt in a twisted heap at the bottom of the ditch. The rain started, light at first, pattering against the wreckage.
---
Logan was walking back toward your tenement building, the collar of his coat turned up against the cold drizzle, when he saw itājust beyond the next block, down by the road.
The sight hit him like a punch to the chest.
A carriage, overturned, one of the wheels still spinning lazily. The horse was gone, its reins dangling uselessly from the harness. People were gathering, but no one dared approach the wreckage yet.
Loganās heart stopped. He knewāhe just knew.
His feet moved before he could think. He sprinted toward the wreck, rain falling harder now, soaking through his clothes. His boots hit the muddy road with heavy thuds, splashing water as he ran faster than any ordinary man should.
By the time he reached the scene, a bystander had climbed down, trying to pry the splintered door open. Logan shoved him aside without a word, claws itching under his skin, ready to tear the door off if need be.
āSomeoneās inside!ā the man stammered. āTwo womenāā
Logan didnāt wait. His hands found the edge of the door, and with a growl of effort, he yanked it off the hinges. Inside the crumpled interior, he saw you, half-buried beneath scattered bags.
āY/N!ā His voice cracked, raw and frantic. He dropped to his knees and pulled you free, cradling you in his arms.
You stirred, barely conscious, your head lolling against his chest. Blood streaked your temple, and your breath came in shallow gasps.
āLoganā¦?ā you whispered, confused, your hand weakly grasping his coat.
āI got you,ā Logan said, his voice breaking. āIām here. Youāre gonna be fine.ā But even as he said it, dread gnawed at himāthis wasnāt fine. It was happening again.
Ida groaned nearby, struggling to sit up, but Loganās focus was locked on you. He pressed a hand against your side, where your ribs felt wrong under his touch. He could feel the heat of your blood seeping into his fingers.
āNo, no, noā¦ā Logan whispered, shaking his head. The storm raged around him, but all he could hear was the shallow rasp of your breathing.
You looked up at him, your gaze unfocused, but your lips curled into the faintest smile. āI told you⦠Iād restā¦ā
āDonāt,ā Logan begged, his forehead pressing against yours. āDonāt do this. Stay with me. You hear me? Stay.ā
You blinked slowly, your hand slipping from his coat. āI⦠triedā¦ā
Logan clenched his jaw, biting down hard against the scream building in his chest. His healing mutation would keep him alive through anythingābut it couldnāt save you. Not now. Not again.
He kissed your forehead, his breath shuddering. āI canāt lose you again, darlinā. Not like thisā¦ā
Your breath hitched once, then stopped.
āNo,ā Logan whispered, rocking you in his arms. āNo, no, noā¦ā
His hands trembled as he pulled you closer, your lifeless body limp against him. The rain poured down harder, drumming on the wreckage, but Logan didnāt care. He sat there, holding you, feeling the familiar, soul-crushing emptiness settle in his chest like an old wound tearing open again.
And still, he held you. Because this time, just like 26 years ago, he couldnāt let go.
in this chapter logan is 48 years old and reader is around 22-24 years old. just a reminder that going forward there is going to be an age gap between the two since logan obviously keeps getting older.
i love you, in every time ąæā§ā 1854 - could it be love?
chapter summary: You meet Logan, a young man who is briefly stopping by in New York City. Despite both of your better judgments, you quickly realize that perhaps there's nothing wrong with falling in love.
word count: 22.2k+
pairing: Logan Howlett x fem!reader
notes: ahh!! welcome to this new series! i'm very excited to start this journey with all of y'all! just a note, when i say 'character death(s)' in the warnings it means that reader is going to die at the end of every chapter. that's the entire premise of this series, which was inspired by the 11th doctor and clara (iykyk). but first, we have a lot of time to cover before we even reach the first x-men movie so strap in!
i also didn't mean for this to be as long as it is, oops
warnings/tags: fluff, angst, outdated mindsets on women, slow burn, illness, character deaths
series masterlist ā chapter 2
You didnāt necessarily love your job, but it was better than other options available for you. You grumbled to yourself as you walked down the sidewalk of New York City, horses neighing and wheels rattling on the brick street.
The bonnet on your head protected you from the sun beating down, keeping you from further heat in your dress. You had many things to do while you were out, get the children some new clothes and toys, buy some groceries, and buy some extra cloth for when you eventually had to sew their clothing.
As you passed by a small shop, you paused, peering in through the window. A few wooden toys sat on the shelf inside, simple and sturdy. Perfect for the boys. You pushed the door open, a little bell jingling as you entered, and you made your way toward the display.
"Can I help you, miss?" The shopkeeperās voice startled you, but you smiled politely.
"Just looking for some toys," you replied, eyes scanning the shelves.
As you picked up a carved wooden horse, the door opened again behind you, letting in a bit of fresh air and a manās heavy footsteps. You didnāt pay it much mind until you felt a presence nearby, a little too close for comfort. You turned slightly, catching sight of a tall man with dark hair and an unshaven face, dressed in a rough shirt and worn pants, a bit out of place among the polished streets of the city.
He glanced your way, his sharp eyes catching yours for a brief moment before he looked back to the shelves.
Something about him felt differentādangerous, but not in the way that made you want to run. More like it pulled you in, made you curious.
You turned back to the toys, but your mind kept wandering back to the stranger standing nearby. You couldnāt help but glance his way again.
"Those are good for little ones," the man said, his voice rough but casual. He nodded at the toy horse in your hand. "They hold up well. Tougher than they look."
You raised an eyebrow, surprised by his sudden comment. "You have experience with them?"
His lips twitched, almost a smile. "A bit. Used to make āem myself."
You looked him over more closely now, intrigued. "You donāt seem like the toy-making type."
His eyes flicked to yours, something amused in the way he looked at you. "Not anymore," he said, then turned his attention back to the shelves.
There was a silence between you for a moment, but it didnāt feel awkward. If anything, it felt like he didnāt mind you being there, like he was used to people drifting in and out of his space.
You finally spoke again. "I suppose these are sturdy enough for two boys, then."
"Yeah. Theyāll survive a beating."
You laughed, the sound surprising you. He gave you another look, a bit more interested this time. There was something about him that made you feel seen in a way that was different from how most men looked at you.
You gathered a few more toys, careful not to spend too much, but you couldnāt resist getting something extra for the little girl you looked after. She was sweet, and it wasnāt her fault she was stuck in such a strict household.
The stranger watched you with those sharp eyes, like he could see more than what was right in front of him. You wondered what his story was, but you werenāt about to ask.
As you headed to the counter, he followed, though he didnāt buy anything. The shopkeeper took your coins, and you gathered your parcels, still feeling the manās presence behind you.
"Thanks for the advice," you said over your shoulder, more as a courtesy than anything else.
He nodded, a slight smirk playing on his lips. "Anytime."
With that, you left the shop, stepping back into the sunlight, the weight of your errands still on your shoulders. But as you walked away, you couldnāt help but feel like something had shifted. Like maybe that wasnāt the last time youād see him.
---
Edwin and Phillip seemed to enjoy the toy you got them, already fighting over who gets to play with it first. They were the eldest, Edwin was 9, Phillip was 7, and Ada was 6. You handed her the toy you got for her, one she got to keep all to herself.
Ada's face lit up when you handed her the small, carved doll. She held it in her hands gently, like it was the most precious thing in the world.
"For me?" she asked, her voice soft with disbelief.
You smiled and nodded. "Just for you, Ada."
Her eyes sparkled, and she hugged the doll to her chest. "Thank you!"
Edwin and Phillip were already in the middle of their tug-of-war with the wooden horse, the two boys shouting over whose turn it was.
"I had it first!" Edwin argued, pulling the toy toward him.
"You always get it first!" Phillip shot back, his voice growing louder.
You sighed and stepped in, placing a hand on each of their shoulders. "Why don't you take turns? If you can't share, I'll have to take it away, and no one gets to play with it."
They both groaned but reluctantly agreed, setting the horse on the floor. Edwin was a bit of a handful, but he could be sweet when he wanted to be. Phillip, the quieter one, usually followed his brotherās lead. At least Ada wasnāt much trouble.
After helping Ada settle in with her new toy, you turned to check on the boys, making sure they hadnāt already forgotten your words. But as you did, your thoughts drifted back to the man in the shop. There was something about himāsomething that lingered in your mind even now. He didnāt fit in with the usual crowd you saw around here, but he didnāt seem bothered by that.
It was odd, though, that someone like him would be in a toy shop of all places. You tried to shake the thought away, but it kept creeping back, a sense that your brief encounter meant more than it appeared.
Later, after the children had settled down, you found yourself with a rare quiet moment. You sat by the window, staring out at the street below, watching the people passing by. The day was winding down, the sky fading into hues of orange and pink, and yet, the manās sharp eyes lingered in your mind.
You shook your head, scolding yourself for thinking too much about a stranger. It was just a passing momentānothing more. You had far more important things to focus on, like taking care of the children and making sure everything ran smoothly for the household. That man, whoever he was, wasnāt part of your world.
But still, something in the back of your mind whispered that youād see him again. And the thought of it didnāt exactly bother you.
---
The next few days were a blur of your usual routine. The children kept you busy, and you barely had a moment to yourself. But even as you went through the motions of your daily life, you couldn't help but feel that sense of somethingāor someoneāwaiting.
It was on a brisk afternoon, a few days after your encounter at the shop, when you found yourself running errands again. The streets were busier than usual, with carriages clattering over the cobblestones and people bustling past in a hurry. You had a long list of things to pick up, and the thought of weaving through the crowded market already had you dreading the trip.
As you made your way through the streets, you spotted a familiar figure standing at the corner near a fruit stand. The man from the shop. He hadnāt seen you yet, but something about the way he stood, slightly apart from the rest of the crowd, watching the passersby with a quiet intensity, made you pause.
You debated for a moment. Should you approach him? Or would it seem too forward?
Before you could decide, his gaze lifted, and he spotted you. His eyes narrowed, a flicker of recognition passing over his features, but he didnāt move. He just stood there, watching you.
You took a deep breath and made your way over, your curiosity getting the better of you.
"Fancy seeing you here again," you said, trying to sound casual as you approached.
"Didnāt expect to run into you either," he replied, his voice still rough, but there was a hint of something in his tone. Amusement? Interest? You couldnāt quite place it.
"I was just running errands," you said, gesturing to the market behind you. "You know how it is."
He nodded, his eyes flicking over you for a moment before landing back on the crowd. "Yeah, I get it."
There was a beat of silence, but it wasnāt uncomfortable. In fact, it almost felt... familiar. Like talking to him wasnāt so strange after all.
"Are you from around here?" you asked, breaking the silence.
He shook his head. "Not really. Just passing through."
"Do you always pass through toy shops when you're in town?"
His lips quirked into that almost-smile again. "Only when I feel like it."
You couldnāt help but chuckle. "Mysterious, arenāt you?"
He shrugged, not giving much away. "Maybe."
You were about to ask him something else when a shout came from behind you. You turned to see one of the street vendors, an older man, calling out angrily at a young boy who had clearly tried to swipe an apple from his cart.
Before you could even react, the man next to you stepped forward. His movements were quick and fluid, like he was used to handling situations like this. He reached the boy before the vendor could get too close, gripping the kid by the collar.
"Hey," the man said, his voice low but firm. "Thatās not how you do things."
The boy froze, wide-eyed, clearly not expecting to be caught so quickly.
"Put it back," the man ordered.
The boy, trembling slightly, dropped the apple back onto the cart. "Iām sorry!" he blurted out before scurrying off into the crowd.
You watched as the man exchanged a few words with the vendor, calming him down before he turned back to you, his expression unreadable.
"You didnāt have to do that," you said, surprised by how quickly he had handled the situation.
He shrugged again. "The kidāll learn his lesson. Better this way than the other options."
You looked at him, a little more curious now. He wasnāt just some rough-around-the-edges stranger. There was something deeper to him, something that made you want to know more.
āI donāt think I caught your name the other day,ā you settled on, meeting his eyes as the energy of the crowd buzzed around you both.
He gave a small nod, like he was considering whether to answer or not. "Logan," he said simply.
"Logan," you repeated, trying the name on your tongue. It suited him, rough around the edges but solid. "Iām Y/N."
His gaze lingered on you for a moment longer before he gave another slight nod, acknowledging it. The silence between you wasnāt heavy, but it felt like something unspoken passed through the space. Something that told you he wasnāt just another passerby in your life.
"Thanks for helping that kid back there," you said, breaking the quiet. "Not everyone would step in like that."
Logan shrugged like it was nothing, his eyes scanning the crowd again. "Not a big deal."
You tilted your head slightly, studying him. "You do that a lot? Play the hero?"
A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips, barely there, but it was enough. "No. Just don't like seeing people get hurt when I can do something about it."
There was a gruffness to his words, but it didnāt feel forced. It felt real. And it was clear that he wasnāt the type to go around explaining himself to anyone. You liked that.
"Well, either way, it was good of you." You glanced down at the parcels in your arms, suddenly remembering the rest of your errands. "I should probably get going, before Iām late getting back."
Logan gave you a small nod, his eyes flicking down to your parcels. "You take care."
You hesitated, a part of you not wanting to walk away just yet. But what could you say? You didnāt know this man, not really, and yet you felt drawn to him in a way that was hard to explain. Maybe it was the way he carried himself, like he had been through more than he let on. Or maybe it was the quiet strength in him that made you feel oddly safe.
"Maybe Iāll see you around?" you offered, not wanting to make the goodbye feel so final.
Loganās eyes met yours again, and for a moment, there was something softer in his gaze. "Yeah. Maybe."
With that, you gave him a small smile and turned to leave, weaving your way through the bustling street. As you walked, you couldnāt help but glance back once, just to see if he was still there. He was, standing where you left him, watching you go.
---
The following days fell back into your usual routineātaking care of the children, running errands, keeping the household in order. Yet, no matter how busy you were, your thoughts kept drifting back to Logan. Something about him lingered in your mind, and it wasnāt just because he had helped out that kid. There was something deeper, something you couldnāt quite shake.
You found yourself wondering if he really was just passing through, or if there was more to his story than he was letting on. You didnāt know why it mattered so much, but it did.
One afternoon, as you were helping Ada tie the ribbon on her new dress, she looked up at you with her big, curious eyes.
"Y/N, are you thinking about something?" she asked innocently.
You blinked, surprised. "Why do you ask?"
"Because youāre smiling," she said, her voice soft and sweet.
You hadnāt even realized. "Oh," you said, chuckling softly. "I guess I was just lost in thought."
Ada giggled, her small hands playing with the ribbon you had just tied. "You think about a lot of things."
"Thatās because I have to keep track of all you rascals," you teased, tickling her side gently.
She squealed in delight, wriggling away from you, and you couldnāt help but laugh. But as you settled back into the moment, that same thought returned, uninvited. Logan. Would you see him again?
---
It wasnāt long before the answer came.
You were out in the market again, picking up some fresh bread for dinner. The smell of the bakery wafted through the air, warm and comforting. You had just handed over your coins to the baker when you felt that familiar presenceāsomething just outside the edge of your awareness, like a shadow that suddenly moved.
Turning slightly, your eyes caught sight of Logan standing near a fruit cart, his hands in his pockets, watching you. It wasnāt a surprise this time, but your heart still gave a little flutter at the sight of him. You made your way over, the crowd parting as you walked.
"Logan," you greeted, a smile pulling at your lips before you could stop it.
"Y/N," he replied, nodding in acknowledgment. His expression didnāt change much, but there was something almost... pleased in his eyes. Like he had expected you to come over.
"Still passing through?" you asked, raising an eyebrow.
He glanced around the busy street before answering. "Seems like Iāve been here longer than I planned."
"Any reason for that?" you asked, half-joking but also genuinely curious.
Logan looked at you for a long moment, like he was debating how much to say. Finally, he shrugged. "No reason."
You didnāt believe him for a second, but you let it go. Instead, you gestured to the bread in your basket. "If youāre still around tomorrow, you should come by the park. I take the children there sometimes in the afternoons. Itās quieter than here."
Loganās eyes flicked to yours, considering. "Maybe I will."
You nodded, feeling a strange sense of satisfaction from his answer. It was small, but it was something.
"Well," you said, shifting the basket on your arm. "I should get back before the boys tear the house down."
Logan smirked at that, and you felt a warmth spread through you at the sight of it. He wasnāt a man who smiled easily, but when he did, it felt like a reward.
"Take care," he said, his voice low and steady, and you couldnāt help but notice how those words made you feel safe in a way you hadnāt expected.
As you walked away, the warmth of his gaze stayed with you, lingering long after youād turned the corner.
---
The next day, you found yourself at the park, just as you had promised. Edwin and Phillip were racing around, laughing as they chased each other, while Ada sat quietly by your side, her doll clutched in her hands.
You tried not to look around for Logan, but you couldnāt help it. Every time someone passed by, your heart gave a little jump, only to settle back down when you realized it wasnāt him.
Just as you were beginning to think he wouldnāt show, you heard the sound of heavy footsteps approaching. You didnāt need to look up to know who it was.
"Mind if I join you?" Loganās voice was calm, but there was something in it that made you smile.
You glanced up, meeting his eyes. "Not at all."
Logan gave a nod, lowering himself onto the bench beside you. He stretched his long legs out, looking completely at ease. The sounds of the childrenās laughter filled the air, and for a moment, you just sat in companionable silence.
āBoys giving you trouble?ā he asked, his voice low and gravelly.
āThey always do,ā you replied, watching as Edwin tackled Phillip to the ground. āBut I think theyād explode if they didnāt.ā
Loganās lips twitched at thatāalmost a smile. āKidsāll do that. Got too much energy.ā
You tilted your head, studying him out of the corner of your eye. āYou got siblings?ā
Logan paused for a second, like the question had caught him off guard. āYeah. A brother.ā
You didnāt press, sensing there was more to the story but knowing better than to pry. Instead, you turned your attention back to the children.
āDo you have any?ā Logan asked, nodding toward the boys.
āNo,ā you said, shaking your head. āI look after them for the family I work for. They keep me busy, though. Might as well be mine.ā
He gave a soft grunt of acknowledgment, resting his elbows on his knees.
āAnd her?ā Logan nodded toward Ada, who sat a little apart from the boys, her doll tucked protectively in her arms.
āThatās Ada,ā you said, smiling softly. āSheās the quiet one. A little sweet thing, really.ā
āSheās got good taste,ā Logan remarked, glancing at the doll in her hands.
You chuckled. āThat was the least I could do for her. Lifeās not exactly fun in that house.ā
Loganās gaze flicked toward you, something unreadable in his expression. āIt never is.ā
You frowned, catching the weight behind his words, but before you could ask what he meant, Ada wandered over to you. She gave Logan a curious glance but stayed close by your side.
āWhoās he?ā Ada whispered, gripping your sleeve.
You smiled. āThis is Logan. Heās a friend.ā
Logan gave her a small nod, and Ada, ever cautious, just stared at him with wide eyes. After a beat, she leaned in close to you and whispered, āHe looks like a bear.ā
You triedāreally triedānot to laugh, but it slipped out anyway. Logan gave a low chuckle of his own, shaking his head slightly.
āSmart kid,ā he murmured.
Ada, encouraged by your laughter, gave a shy smile. Then she wandered back toward the boys, apparently satisfied with Loganās presence.
āSheās got you figured out,ā you teased, grinning.
Loganās expression softened just a bit, and he gave a small shrug. āKids see things plain.ā
You leaned back on the bench, letting yourself relax. It was strange, how easy it felt to be around him. You didnāt know much about himāhardly anything, reallyābut something about Logan made you feel like you didnāt need to fill the silence with useless conversation.
āDo you ever stop moving?ā you asked suddenly, curious. āYou said you were just passing through, but it seems like youāve stayed a bit longer.ā
Logan didnāt answer right away. He stared out at the park, his expression thoughtful.
āSometimes,ā he said finally. āNot often, though.ā
āThat sounds lonely.ā
His jaw twitched slightly, and he turned his head to look at you. āYou get used to it.ā
You held his gaze for a moment, sensing that there was more beneath the surface than he was letting on. But instead of prying, you just nodded, accepting his words for what they were.
āWell, if you ever feel like staying in one place for a bit, you know where to find me,ā you said lightly.
Loganās eyes flickered with somethingāsomething you couldnāt quite nameābut he gave a small nod, like he was filing that thought away.
āAppreciate it,ā he murmured.
Before you could say more, Edwin and Phillip came barreling toward you, out of breath and covered in dirt.
āY/N! Y/N!ā Edwin shouted. āPhillip said he could run faster than me, but I totally won!ā
Phillip scowled, wiping mud off his cheek. āOnly because you pushed me.ā
āYou pushed him?ā you asked, raising an eyebrow at Edwin.
Edwin squirmed. āNot that hard.ā
Logan snorted quietly, drawing both boysā attention. They looked at him with wide, curious eyes.
āWhoās that?ā Edwin whispered loudly, leaning closer to you.
āThatās Logan,ā you said. āHeās a friend.ā
Edwin tilted his head, squinting up at Logan. āYou look tough.ā
Loganās lips twitched. āI get that a lot.ā
āCan you fight?ā Edwin asked eagerly, his eyes lighting up. āLikeālike really fight?ā
āEdwin!ā you scolded, but Logan just gave a small chuckle.
āYeah,ā Logan said. āA bit.ā
āWhoa!ā Edwinās jaw dropped, clearly impressed. Phillip, more cautious, stayed quiet but kept his eyes on Logan like he was trying to figure him out.
āAlright, enough of that,ā you said, gently ushering the boys away. āGo play before I make you help with dinner.ā
Edwin groaned but dragged Phillip along, the two of them running back toward the trees.
You glanced at Logan, shaking your head. āYouāve got yourself some new fans, it seems.ā
Logan huffed softly. āKids are alright.ā
There was a pause, and then you asked quietly, āYou really do keep moving, donāt you?ā
Logan looked at you, his expression serious. āYeah.ā
You bit your lip, unsure of what to say. There was something in his eyes that told you heād seen more than mostāmore than you could probably imagine.
āWell,ā you said softly, āif you ever get tired of running, you know where to find me.ā
Logan held your gaze for a long moment, his eyes searching yours. Then, with the barest hint of a smile, he nodded.
āYeah,ā he said quietly. āIāll keep that in mind.ā
---
You saw Logan more often than not. Truth be told, you enjoyed his presence. He was different than the other men you had met, not as harsh, didnāt look down on you, or see you as an object.
One day, while walking around the market with a small basket, filled with a few apples and some bread, you looked at a carriage, rolling along the brick road with a horse in front.
āI never learned how to ride a horse,ā you said, glancing at the carriage as it rolled along the cobblestone street. The words came out before you even knew why you said them, maybe just filling the space between you and Logan.
Logan, walking beside you, gave you a sidelong glance. The faintest trace of a smirk played at the corner of his mouth. āThat right?ā
You shrugged, shifting the basket in your hand. āNever had a reason to, I suppose. And itās not exactly something you pick up living in the city.ā
He made a low noise in his throat that could have been agreement. For a moment, the two of you walked in companionable silence, the sounds of the market buzzing around youāvendors calling out, the clip-clop of hooves, the soft rustle of autumn leaves underfoot.
āWouldnāt take much to learn,ā Logan said finally, his voice easy. āReckon youād be good at it.ā
You shot him a skeptical glance. āHow would you know?ā
Logan gave a lazy shrug. āJust a guess.ā
There was something in his tone, thoughāsomething soft and amused that made your cheeks warm. You glanced away, pretending to be very interested in a stall selling ribbons, though your attention kept drifting back to Logan.
āYou know how to ride, then?ā you asked after a moment, keeping your tone casual.
He nodded. āYeah. Picked it up when I was a kid.ā
You raised an eyebrow, curious despite yourself. āWhereād you grow up?ā
āHere and there,ā he answered vaguely, though not unkindly. You got the sense that there was a lot more to the storyāthings he wasnāt ready to share. And maybe things you werenāt quite ready to ask about. Not yet, anyway.
āWould you teach me?ā you asked on impulse, surprising even yourself.
Logan glanced over, one brow raised, and for a moment, you thought he might laugh. But he didnāt. Instead, he gave a small nod, like it was the most natural thing in the world.
āSure,ā he said simply.
A smile tugged at your lips before you could stop it.
āWhen?ā you pressed, feeling strangely excited by the idea.
Logan thought for a moment, his gaze drifting toward the road ahead. āNext Sunday,ā he decided. āThereās a place just outside the city. I know a guy whoās got a couple of good horses.ā
You felt a flicker of doubtāafter all, you had responsibilities, and it wasnāt as though you could just abandon the children for the day. But Logan must have noticed your hesitation because he gave you a reassuring look.
āBring the kids,ā he offered. āThey can run wild while you learn.ā
That made you laugh softly. āYou really think I can keep up with them and learn to ride a horse?ā
Loganās lips twitched. āIāll handle the boys if they get out of hand.ā
You gave him a skeptical look. āYou donāt know what youāre offering.ā
āIāve handled worse,ā Logan said with a grin that made your stomach do an odd little flip.
You opened your mouth to respond, but just then, a vendor called out, advertising fresh apples, and you were drawn toward the stall. Logan followed at a leisurely pace, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his coat.
You picked a couple of apples, inspecting them before adding them to your basket. As you handed a coin to the vendor, you glanced at Logan again.
āNext Sunday, then?ā you asked, as if you still needed confirmation.
Logan gave a small nod. āNext Sunday.ā
Something about the way he said itācalm and certaināmade you believe it would actually happen. And for the first time in a long while, you found yourself looking forward to something.
---
The boys were already running rampant in the large field, their shouts of laughter echoing across the open space. You could see Edwin trying to race Phillip again, their legs kicking up dirt as they charged back and forth. Ada, ever the quiet one, sat nearby on a stack of hay, her doll in her lap, watching them with a little smile on her face.
You stood near the horses, feeling a flutter of nervous energy in your stomach. Logan was beside you, calm as always, holding the reins of a chestnut mare with an ease that made it all look far simpler than you knew it was. He glanced over at you, his dark eyes catching yours, and you could see the trace of a smirk tugging at his lips.
āYou sure about this?ā Logan asked, nodding toward the horse.
You swallowed, staring up at the mare. āSure. How hard can it be?ā
Logan gave a quiet laugh, clearly not convinced. āWeāll see.ā
He held the reins steady, motioning for you to come closer. You did, taking a deep breath as you placed your hand on the saddle. The horse shifted slightly, and you jumped back a little, making Logan chuckle again.
āSheās not gonna bite,ā he said, his voice low and amused.
āI know that,ā you muttered, embarrassed but trying not to show it. āI just wasnāt ready.ā
Logan gave a small shrug, stepping around to stand beside you. āCāmon. Foot in the stirrup. Iāll help you up.ā
You hesitated for only a second before nodding. Grabbing hold of the saddle, you placed your foot in the stirrup just like heād told you, and then you felt Loganās hand on your waist, firm and steady. With one swift movement, he lifted you up onto the horse, and suddenly you were sitting much higher than youād expected.
You gripped the reins tightly, your heart racing a little.
āThere,ā Logan said, standing back with his arms crossed. He looked up at you, giving a small nod of approval. āNot bad.ā
You glanced down at him, a bit breathless. āIām on the horse, but that doesnāt mean I can ride it.ā
Logan smirked. āOne step at a time, darlinā.ā
He moved around to grab the reins, keeping his voice low and calm as he spoke to the mare, guiding her gently in a slow circle around the field. You held on, trying to keep yourself steady in the saddle. It wasnāt as hard as you thought it would be, but every time the horse took a step, you felt your stomach flip a little.
Logan kept walking beside you, close enough that you could hear him, though his voice was quiet. āYouāre doinā fine.ā
āI feel ridiculous,ā you muttered, glancing over at the boys to make sure they werenāt watching. Of course, they were, but they seemed more interested in their own games than in you wobbling around on a horse.
āYou look fine,ā Logan said, and there was something in his tone that made you glance at him sharply.
His eyes flickered up toward yours for just a moment, and you felt that familiar warmth in your cheeks again. You looked away quickly, trying to focus on staying upright.
āYouāre just sayinā that,ā you said, trying to sound casual.
Logan chuckled. āNo. If you looked ridiculous, Iād tell you.ā
The confidence in his voice made you smile despite yourself. You loosened your grip on the reins just a little, letting yourself relax. The horse moved steadily beneath you, her pace slow and even, and after a few moments, you realized it wasnāt so bad after all.
āYou ready to try it on your own?ā Logan asked, his voice easy.
You blinked. āYou think Iām ready?ā
āYeah.ā He handed the reins over to you, stepping back a little. āJust keep her steady. Sheās not gonna take off on you.ā
You nodded, taking a deep breath and gripping the reins tightly as you urged the horse forward. She responded, moving into a gentle walk, and you felt a little thrill of pride. Logan walked beside you for a few more steps, watching, but then he stopped, folding his arms across his chest as he watched you guide the horse around the field on your own.
āYouāre a natural,ā he called out, a grin tugging at his lips.
You laughed softly, feeling a bit more confident now. āI wouldnāt go that far.ā
As you circled back around toward him, you slowed the horse, bringing her to a stop in front of Logan. He looked up at you, his eyes warm and approving.
āTold ya,ā he said. āNot so hard, is it?ā
You shook your head, smiling. āNot as hard as I thought.ā
Logan reached up, taking the reins from your hands. āCāmon. Letās get you down.ā
This part felt a little trickier, but Logan was there, steadying you as you swung your leg over the saddle and slid down. His hands were firm on your waist again, and for just a moment, you were standing close enough to catch the scent of leather and something elseāsomething distinctly Logan.
āThanks,ā you said softly, looking up at him.
Loganās eyes held yours for a long moment, something unreadable flickering in his gaze. Then he gave a small nod, stepping back.
āAnytime,ā he said, his voice low.
Before you could say anything else, the boys came running over, breathless and wild from their playing. Edwin looked up at the horse, his eyes wide with excitement.
āCan I ride next?ā he asked, practically bouncing on his toes.
You glanced at Logan, raising an eyebrow. āYou said youād handle them if they got out of hand, remember?ā
Logan sighed, giving you a wry smile. āYeah, I remember.ā
He looked at Edwin, then nodded toward the horse. āAlright, kid. Letās see what youāve got.ā
As Logan helped Edwin onto the horse, you stepped back, watching with a small smile. The sun was starting to dip lower in the sky, casting a golden glow over the field, and for a moment, everything felt peaceful. You glanced at Ada, who was still sitting on the haystack, her doll in her arms, watching the scene with quiet interest.
Maybe it wasnāt such a bad idea to let yourself enjoy moments like this.
As Logan guided Edwin around the field, you found yourself watching him more than the horse. There was something about the way he movedāstrong, sure, like he belonged here, like he was more comfortable in this quiet, open space than anywhere else.
And as he turned, catching your eye for just a moment, you couldnāt help but wonder if maybe, just maybe, heād found something here worth staying for.
---
āYou ever think about gettinā outta the city?ā Logan asked, his voice low. āFindinā somewhere quieter?ā
You glanced at him, a little surprised by the question. āIāve thought about it. But⦠Iāve got responsibilities.ā
Logan nodded slowly, his eyes distant as he stared out at the horizon. āYeah. Responsibilities.ā
The way he said it made you wonder if he was thinking about somethingāor someoneāfar away. Youād learned quickly that Logan wasnāt one to talk much about his past, and though you were curious, you didnāt push.
You turned a jar of honey over in your hand, Mr. Thomas had asked you to buy them another jar while you were out. āIf I didnāt have responsibilities, Iād like to live out in a cabin, away from everything else. Sometimes things here are noisy. Iād just like to⦠I donāt know, exist without worryinā about anything.ā
Logan, standing beside you, his hands shoved in his pockets, gave a small grunt of agreement. "Sounds nice."
You glanced at him, curious. "You ever think about it? Leaving the city behind, finding a quiet spot somewhere?"
Logan paused for a moment, his gaze distant. "Yeah. Sometimes."
The simplicity of his answer hung in the air between you, and for a second, you wondered if he'd actually let himself think about settling down. It seemed unlikely, given how much he kept moving, but there was something in the way he said it, something almost wistful.
"You don't seem like the kind of guy who stays in one place for too long," you teased, shifting the basket in your hand as you handed the vendor a coin for the honey.
Logan shrugged, a small smirk playing at his lips. "Guess not."
You both fell into a comfortable silence as you continued walking through the market. The streets bustled with people, but somehow, with Logan by your side, it all felt a little less overwhelming. You didn't have to fill the quiet with pointless chatter. He wasnāt like the others in the cityāconstantly rushing, looking for something to gain. He just⦠existed, like you wanted to.
As you passed by a small stall selling flowers, you slowed down, your eyes catching on a bouquet of wildflowers that reminded you of something you'd see out in the countryside. Logan noticed, his eyes following your gaze.
"You like those?" he asked, nodding toward the flowers.
You smiled softly. "Yeah. They remind me of⦠I donāt know, freedom, I guess."
Logan gave a small chuckle. "Freedom, huh?"
You shrugged, suddenly feeling a little silly. "I know it sounds strange. Itās just⦠being stuck in the city all the time, I donāt get to see much of the world outside these streets."
He didnāt laugh or brush it off like most people would have. Instead, Logan looked at you for a moment, his expression serious.
"Maybe one day," he said quietly, "youāll get that cabin. Find some peace."
There was something about the way he said it that made your heart skip a beat, but before you could respond, a commotion erupted a few stalls down. Edwin and Phillip came barreling toward you, laughing and out of breath, their hands full of something they clearly werenāt supposed to have.
"Y/N!" Edwin shouted, holding up a small sack of apples. "Look what we got!"
You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms. "And how exactly did you 'get' those?"
Phillip, ever the quieter one, shifted nervously on his feet. "We didnāt steal them! Mr. Turner gave them to us after we helped him with his cart."
You glanced over to where Mr. Turner, a kind old man who often sold apples at the market, was smiling and waving in your direction.
"Alright," you said, sighing with relief. "But youād better not be causing any trouble."
Logan chuckled under his breath, watching the boys with amusement. "Theyāre just having fun."
"Yeah, until someone gets hurt," you muttered, though you couldnāt help but smile at their excitement.
Edwin, noticing Logan for the first time, grinned. "Hey, Logan! You ever been in a real fight?"
Logan smirked, glancing at you before turning back to the boys. "A couple."
Edwinās eyes lit up. "Tell us about one!"
"Edwin," you warned, shaking your head. "Logan doesnāt have time to tell you all his stories."
But Logan didnāt seem to mind. He crouched down to the boysā level, his expression serious as he spoke in that low, gravelly voice of his.
"Alright, but just one. There was this guy⦠big, tough-looking fella, thought he could take me down. We were out in the middle of nowhere, no one around for miles. He comes at me with this huge stick, thinking thatāll be enough."
Edwin and Phillip leaned in, wide-eyed, hanging on every word.
"So, what happened?" Edwin asked, barely able to contain himself.
Loganās smirk deepened. "Letās just say, he learned real quick not to mess with me."
The boys erupted into laughter, completely captivated by the idea of Logan taking down some big, burly guy.
You rolled your eyes, but couldnāt help the smile creeping onto your face. "Youāre gonna give them ideas, you know."
Logan stood, shrugging casually. "Kids need a little excitement."
"Not too much," you muttered, though you were grateful for the way he interacted with them. Most men in the city didnāt have the patience for children, especially not boys as wild as Edwin and Phillip.
As the boys ran off again, Logan glanced over at you, his expression softening just a bit.
"They look up to you," he said quietly.
You looked down, shrugging. "Theyāre good kids. Just need someone to look after them."
Logan was quiet for a moment, watching the boys as they disappeared into the crowd. Then, almost as if the thought had just occurred to him, he turned back to you.
"You ever think about having your own?" he asked, his tone surprisingly gentle.
The question caught you off guard, and for a moment, you didnāt know how to respond. You hadnāt really thought about itānot seriously, anyway. Your life was too full of other peopleās children, other peopleās problems.
"I donāt know," you said slowly, glancing up at him. "Maybe someday. If I ever get that cabin, I might think about it."
Logan nodded, but didnāt say anything more. He just walked beside you, the two of you falling back into that easy, comfortable silence.
It wasnāt until later, as you lay in bed that night, that you found yourself thinking about his question again. The idea of a quiet life, away from the noise and chaos of the city, didnāt seem so impossible anymoreānot when you imagined Logan there with you.
---
One night, after you had put the boys to sleep and were in Adaās room to read a story to her, she asked you a question. āWhy arenāt you like mama and papa?ā
You raised your head from the book you were reading to her, āwhat do you mean?ā
Her lips formed a small pout, āmama has papa, but you donāt have anyone.ā
You blinked, caught off guard by Adaās question. Her innocent curiosity made your heart ache, but you kept your voice steady.
āWell, sweetie,ā you started, trying to find the right words, āsometimes, people are just on their own for a little while. It doesnāt mean they wonāt find someone. Maybe they just havenāt yet.ā
Ada considered this, her small brow furrowed in thought. āBut youāre so nice. Why doesnāt anyone love you?ā
The simplicity of the question stung more than it should have. You chuckled softly, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear. āItās not that simple, Ada. But thank you for saying that.ā
She didnāt seem satisfied with your answer, her tiny face still scrunched up in confusion. āDonāt you get lonely?ā
You hesitated, glancing out the window at the darkening sky. The truth was, sometimes you did. Even though you were surrounded by peopleātaking care of the children, managing the houseāyou couldnāt deny that feeling creeping in every now and then.
āI have you, donāt I?ā you finally said, smiling down at her. āAnd Edwin and Phillip. You three keep me pretty busy.ā
Ada giggled softly at that, settling into her blankets. āI guess. But I think you should find someone, like mama did.ā
You gave her a light kiss on the forehead, smoothing down her hair. āMaybe one day, kiddo.ā
Ada yawned, her eyes drooping as sleep crept up on her. āGoodnight, Y/N.ā
āGoodnight, Ada,ā you whispered, watching her drift off. You stayed there for a moment longer, thinking about her words, before quietly slipping out of the room.
The house was silent as you made your way down the hall, but your mind was anything but. Her innocent question stirred something inside of you, a longing that you hadnāt let yourself fully acknowledge. It wasnāt like you to dwell on what you didnāt have, but maybe⦠maybe Ada was right. Maybe there was something missing.
But it wasnāt something you could focus on right now. You had responsibilities. This family depended on you, and that was enough for now. At least, thatās what you kept telling yourself.
As you reached your room and closed the door behind you, you caught sight of the bouquet of wildflowers Logan had quietly bought earlier in the day. You hadnāt noticed him purchase them at the market, but when you returned to the house, they were there on the doorstep, a small note attached that simply read, Thought youād like these.
You smiled to yourself, gently picking up the flowers and placing them in a vase by the window. You hadnāt thought much about having someone of your own, but as you looked at the flowers, you couldnāt help but wonder what it might be like.
And, for the first time in a long while, the idea didnāt seem so far away.
---
The next few days passed quietly, with Logan visiting you at the market more frequently, though neither of you mentioned the wildflowers. There was an unspoken understanding between youāneither of you rushed things, but the connection was undeniably growing.
One afternoon, as you sat outside with Ada on your lap, reading her a story, Logan appeared at the gate. The children spotted him first, of course, and Edwin ran over, grinning ear to ear.
āLogan! Youāre back!ā he shouted, tugging at Loganās coat. āDid you bring us any stories?ā
Logan gave a soft grunt, glancing over at you with a smirk. āI might have one or two left.ā
You shook your head, amused. āTheyāll never leave you alone if you keep telling them stories, you know.ā
Logan crouched down, ruffling Edwinās hair. āI donāt mind,ā he said, his gaze softening as he glanced at Ada in your lap. āHowāre you doinā, kid?ā
Ada looked up from the book and smiled shyly, giving him a small wave. āHi, Logan.ā
He smiled, the sight of the children always easing something in him, though he didnāt let it show too much.
As the kids ran off to play, Logan took a seat beside you on the bench. The two of you sat in silence for a while, watching the children chase each other across the yard.
āTheyāre good kids,ā Logan said finally, breaking the quiet.
āThey are,ā you agreed. āTheyāve got a lot of love to give, and not always enough people around to give it to.ā
Logan turned his head slightly, his eyes studying you. āThat include you?ā
You looked down, fidgeting with your skirt. āMaybe. I spend so much time looking after everyone else, sometimes I forget thereās more to life than just⦠this.ā
Logan didnāt say anything at first, just watched you quietly. Then, his voice low, he asked, āYou ever think about finding something more?ā
You turned to him, surprised by the question. āI donāt know if Iāve let myself think that far ahead,ā you admitted, your heart beating a little faster under his gaze.
Logan looked away, his jaw tightening slightly as if he was holding something back. āMaybe you should.ā
The weight of his words lingered in the air between you, and for the first time, you felt a pullāa possibility of something beyond the life youād built here. Something you hadnāt allowed yourself to dream about until now.
But before either of you could say more, the childrenās laughter echoed through the yard, and the moment passed. Still, the feeling stayed with you long after Logan left that evening.
---
The sky had taken on that soft orange hue of evening, the kind that made the whole world feel suspended between day and night. You and Logan walked side by side along the Hudson River, the sound of water gently lapping against the shore mixing with the distant hum of the city. It had become your routine over the past few weeks, these evening walksāquiet, almost intimate, even though neither of you said much.
Today, though, something felt different. Logan had been quieter than usual, his hands shoved deep into his pockets, his usual gruff demeanor softened by the fading sunlight. Every now and then, youād catch him glancing at you from the corner of his eye, as if there was something he wanted to say but couldnāt find the words.
āYou alright?ā you asked, your voice cutting through the comfortable silence.
Logan nodded, though his expression didnāt quite match the motion. āYeah, just⦠thinkinā.ā
āAbout?ā
He stopped walking, turning to face the river. You followed his gaze, watching the way the sunās reflection danced on the surface of the water. After a long moment, he spoke.
āIāve never really⦠had this before,ā he said, his voice low, almost hesitant. āYāknow, just⦠beinā with someone like this. Feels kinda strange.ā
You smiled softly, stepping closer to him, close enough that your arm brushed against his. āStrange in a good way?ā
Logan let out a short, almost nervous chuckle. āYeah. In a good way.ā
The two of you stood there, side by side, watching the sun dip lower in the sky. You could feel the warmth of his presence, his arm just barely touching yours, and it sent a small thrill through you. You hadnāt been sure at first if what you felt for Logan was mutualāhe was quiet, reserved, hard to readābut moments like this, when the world seemed to narrow down to just the two of you, made it clear. There was something unspoken between you, something neither of you had dared to put into words.
After a while, you turned to face him, studying the way his brow was furrowed, like he was deep in thought.
āLogan,ā you said softly.
He looked at you then, really looked at you, his hazel eyes meeting yours with a kind of intensity that made your heart skip a beat. For a moment, neither of you moved, the air thick with something unsaid.
Before you could second-guess yourself, you reached out and took his hand, your fingers slipping into his. Logan stiffened at the touch, his eyes flicking down to where your hands were joined, but he didnāt pull away. If anything, he stepped closer, his fingers curling around yours, holding on a little tighter.
āI donāt think Iāve ever felt this way before either,ā you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.
Loganās gaze softened, his usual guarded expression cracking just enough to let something more vulnerable show through. He hesitated, like he was trying to find the right words, but then decided words werenāt necessary.
Instead, he took a small step forward, his free hand coming up to gently cup the side of your face. His touch was warm, rough, but there was a surprising tenderness in the way his thumb brushed lightly against your cheek. You held your breath, your heart pounding in your chest as he leaned in, his eyes flicking between yours as if asking for permission.
When you didnāt pull away, he closed the distance.
The kiss was soft, almost tentative at first, like he was testing the waters. But the second your lips met his, something inside you seemed to melt, and you leaned into him, deepening the kiss. Logan responded in kind, his grip on your hand tightening as he pulled you closer, the space between you disappearing entirely.
For a moment, it was just the two of youāthe sound of the river fading away, the world narrowing down to the warmth of Loganās lips against yours, the feel of his hand cradling your face like you were something precious.
When you finally pulled back, both of you were breathing a little heavier, your foreheads resting against each other as you stood there, wrapped in the soft glow of the setting sun.
Loganās eyes fluttered open, and he gave you a small, almost sheepish smile. āDidnāt think Iād be kissinā you tonight.ā
You laughed softly, still a little breathless. āNeither did I.ā
He pulled you closer, resting his chin on top of your head as he held you against him. The two of you stood there in the fading light, wrapped up in each other, the world beyond the river momentarily forgotten.
---
Logan thought back to your conversation about living in a cabin more than he cared to admit. The thought of it seemed nice, peaceful, and dare he say it perfect.
After a few weeks of being together, Logan had made a decision and scrounged up any money he could before buying a modest ring from a jeweler. He wasnāt going to propose yet but carrying the ring in his pocket felt right.
He had been coming over to the Thomasesā sprawling estate more often, whether it was walking with you from the market to the large house or even just stopping by of his own will. At first, it had been an occasional thingāa quiet visit here, a quick walk thereābut lately, Logan found himself looking for excuses just to be around. You didnāt seem to mind. In fact, the way your eyes lit up when you saw him made him feel something unfamiliar, something good.
One late afternoon, Logan leaned against the garden gate, watching as you knelt by a row of flowers, tending to them with your usual care. He couldnāt help but admire the sightāyour sleeves rolled up, hair slightly tousled from the breeze, a small smile on your lips as you worked. It made something in his chest tighten. He fingered the ring in his pocket, feeling its weight. He had no plan to use it anytime soon, but carrying it felt right, like a promise to himself.
You glanced up, catching his eye, and smiled, wiping your hands on your apron as you stood. "Back again, Logan?"
"Guess so," he replied, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Thought you might need a hand."
"Well, I could always use one," you teased, stepping closer to him. "But you donāt strike me as the gardening type."
Logan chuckled, reaching out to take your hand, pulling you a little closer. "Not much of a gardener, no. But I can stand here and look good while you do all the work."
You rolled your eyes playfully but didnāt let go of his hand. The easy banter between you had become natural, and the affection between you had grown, unspoken but undeniable. After a moment, you tugged him toward a bench under a nearby tree.
āSit with me for a minute,ā you said softly. āIāve been out here all day.ā
He followed, sitting beside you as the evening breeze rustled the leaves above. The two of you sat in comfortable silence for a while, watching the shadows lengthen as the sun began to set. Logan glanced at you from the corner of his eye, the warm light catching the curve of your face.
āYou ever think this is enough?ā he asked suddenly, his voice quiet but clear.
You looked over at him, eyebrows raised. āWhat do you mean?ā
Logan hesitated, his fingers still laced with yours. āJust⦠this. Beinā together. Doesnāt need to be more complicated than that.ā
You smiled softly, leaning your head against his shoulder. āI think it is enough,ā you said after a moment. āI like this, Logan. I like us.ā
His heart beat a little faster at your words, and without thinking, he leaned down and pressed a kiss to the top of your head. It wasnāt a big gesture, but it felt natural, like something heād been wanting to do for a while. You tilted your head up, meeting his eyes, your lips curving into a gentle smile.
āYou keep that up, and Iām never gonna let you go,ā you teased, though there was something softer, almost serious, in your tone.
Logan smirked, pulling you closer until your legs brushed against his. āDonāt see a reason to.ā
Your fingers traced absent patterns on the back of his hand, your touch light and thoughtful. āYou know, I used to wonder if Iād ever feel this way about someone,ā you admitted softly, your eyes focused on your hands. āIf Iād ever meet someone who made me feel⦠like this.ā
Logan was quiet for a moment, watching you, feeling the warmth of your words settle deep inside him. Heād never thought heād find someone who made him feel like this eitherālike he didnāt have to keep moving, like maybe heād found something worth staying for. He wanted to tell you that, to say what he was feeling, but the words stuck in his throat. So instead, he squeezed your hand, hoping youād understand what he couldnāt say yet.
You looked up at him, your eyes meeting his. The connection between you, the pull, was undeniable. Logan leaned in, his hand slipping to the back of your neck as he pressed his lips to yours. The kiss was slow, tender, like both of you were taking your time, savoring the moment. When you pulled back, your forehead rested against his, and for a second, the world outside the garden didnāt exist.
āI could stay like this forever,ā you whispered, your breath warm against his lips.
Loganās hand tightened on yours. āMaybe we will,ā he murmured back, the words slipping out before he could stop them.
You smiled, your eyes soft as you leaned in and kissed him again, slow and sweet. When you pulled back this time, you didnāt say anything, just settled into his side, your head resting against his chest as the two of you watched the sky shift into shades of pink and orange.
The world outside may have been complicated, full of responsibilities and noise, but here, with Logan beside you, it felt simple. Peaceful. Like this was all that mattered.
---
One late afternoon, you were sitting on the porch with Ada and the boys, telling them stories while they played at your feet. Logan leaned against the fence, watching you from a distance, his heart swelling at the sight of you surrounded by the children, laughing and carefree.
āYou look like youāre thinkinā about somethinā serious,ā your voice cut through his thoughts, pulling him back to the present. You stood up, walking over to him, a teasing smile on your face.
Logan shrugged, trying to play it off. āJust thinkinā about how you handle those kids like itās nothinā.ā
You laughed, rolling your eyes. āTrust me, itās something. Theyāre a handful.ā
Logan smiled, reaching out to take your hand. āYouāre good at it. I like watchinā you with them.ā
Your cheeks flushed slightly at his compliment, and you glanced down, trying to hide the small smile playing at your lips. āWell, youāre not so bad with them yourself. Edwin wonāt stop talking about that story you told him.ā
Logan chuckled, shaking his head. āKidās got a wild imagination.ā
You leaned in closer, your fingers playing with the hem of his sleeve. āMaybe he gets that from you.ā
He smirked, slipping his arm around your waist and pulling you into him. āThink so?ā
āI know so,ā you whispered, your breath brushing against his neck.
For a moment, the world around you seemed to fade away, and it was just the two of you, standing in the soft glow of the afternoon sun. Loganās hand slid up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing lightly against your skin before he leaned down and kissed you, slow and deliberate, like he was memorizing the feel of your lips against his.
When he pulled back, your eyes were half-closed, your expression soft and content. āLogan,ā you whispered, your voice barely audible. āWhat are we doing?ā
He looked at you, his thumb still tracing soft circles on your cheek. āDoinā what feels right.ā
You smiled, resting your forehead against his. āYeah. It does feel right.ā
The sound of the childrenās laughter broke the quiet moment between you, and you both turned to see Ada running toward you, her little legs carrying her as fast as they could. āY/N! Y/N!ā she shouted, her face flushed with excitement. āCome play with us!ā
You laughed, pulling away from Logan just enough to crouch down and catch Ada in your arms. āAlright, alright! Iām coming.ā
As you stood, you glanced back at Logan, your eyes lingering on him for a moment longer. He gave you a small nod, his lips quirking into a smile, and you turned back to the children, running off with them into the yard.
Logan watched you for a while longer, his hand slipping into his pocket where the small ring rested. It wasnāt time yet, but someday, maybe heād ask. Someday, when the moment was right.
For now, this was enough.
And for the first time in his life, that was all Logan wanted.
---
āMrs. Thomas is sick. She wanted me to pick up some things for her before the doctor comes to check her out,ā you explained, adding a sprig of thyme to your basket and handing the vendor a coin.
Logan stood beside you, hands stuffed in his pockets, watching you with a casual ease that had become second nature to him. āWhatās wrong with her?ā he asked, though his tone wasnāt heavyājust curious.
You shrugged, brushing a strand of hair from your face. āProbably just a cold. Sheās been coughing a bit, but Mr. Thomas thinks sheāll be fine.ā
Loganās jaw ticked slightly, his eyes following the movement of your hand as it tucked the hair behind your ear. āYou sure you should be around her if sheās sick?ā
You smiled at his concern, nudging him lightly with your elbow. āItās part of the job, Logan. Besides, Iāve been with her every day. If I was going to get sick, it wouldāve happened by now.ā
He frowned, not entirely convinced, but let it drop. You were stubborn like thatāalways brushing things off when they concerned you.
As you moved from stall to stall, picking out fresh herbs, bread, and tea, Logan trailed beside you, a silent presence at your side. It was comfortableānatural, even. You could feel him close, his arm brushing yours now and then, and though neither of you said much, it was the kind of quiet that felt good.
When you handed the grocer a coin for a small loaf of bread, Loganās voice broke the easy silence. āYou want me to walk you back?ā
You glanced up at him, a small smile tugging at your lips. āTrying to sneak more time with me?ā
Logan grinned, his hands still tucked in his coat pockets. āMaybe.ā
Your laugh was soft and warm, and Logan swore it was one of his favorite sounds.
āYou donāt have to, but I wonāt say no if you want to,ā you teased, shifting the basket on your hip. āThe Thomases live all the way across town, though.ā
Logan rolled his shoulders in a lazy shrug. āDonāt mind.ā
With that settled, the two of you set off toward the Thomasesā estate, falling into step beside each other. The streets bustled with the usual afternoon crowdsāvendors hawking their goods, carts rattling down cobbled roads, children darting through the streets. Yet somehow, it felt like the two of you existed in your own little world, insulated from the noise of the city.
āYou been working much?ā you asked after a moment, glancing sideways at him.
Logan nodded. āYeah. Couple of odd jobs here and there.ā
āSame ones?ā
āMostly.ā He paused, as if debating whether to say more. Then, with a smirk, he added, āNot much call for a guy like me whoās no good with flowers.ā
You laughed, the sound light and easy. āWell, Iām sure someone will take pity on you eventually.ā
He bumped his shoulder against yours gently. āYou already did.ā
You rolled your eyes, but the smile stayed on your face. āLucky you.ā
The walk was long, but neither of you minded. You pointed out things along the wayāshops you liked, shortcuts youād found, little bits of the city youād come to know well in your time working for the Thomases. Logan listened, his attention fixed on you, and though he didnāt say much, you could tell he was soaking up every word.
When the two of you reached the tall iron gates of the Thomases' estate, you hesitated, lingering just a bit longer with Logan at the edge of the garden.
āThanks for walking me,ā you said softly, your fingers brushing over his for the briefest second.
āAnytime,ā he murmured, catching your hand before you could pull it away. He gave it a squeeze, his eyes lingering on yours. āYou alright?ā
You nodded. āIām fine, Logan. Just worried about Mrs. Thomas, I guess.ā
He studied you for a beat longer, his thumb absentmindedly brushing the back of your hand. āYouāll let me know if you need anything, yeah?ā
You gave him a small smile, squeezing his hand in return. āYeah. I will.ā
Neither of you moved at first, as if caught in a moment you werenāt quite ready to let go of. Loganās gaze flickered to your lips, and for a second, you thought he might kiss youāright there at the gate, with the late afternoon sun warming your skin and the scent of lavender drifting from the garden.
But instead, he leaned in and pressed a slow kiss to your temple, his lips lingering just long enough to leave you breathless.
āSee you soon,ā he murmured against your skin.
You swallowed, your heart thudding in your chest. āSee you soon,ā you whispered back.
Logan stepped away, his hands reluctantly slipping from yours, and you watched as he made his way back down the path. He didnāt look back, but somehow, you knew that he felt the same pull you didāthe one that always seemed to draw you closer, no matter how far apart you were.
With a soft sigh, you turned and pushed open the gate, your basket swinging gently at your side as you made your way toward the house. The sun was beginning to dip lower in the sky, casting long shadows across the neatly trimmed lawn.
You didnāt know it yet, but the weight of that momentāof Loganās hand in yours, of the way his kiss had felt against your skināwould stay with you. It would become one of those memories youād carry in the quiet hours, long after everything had changed.
But for now, it was just another afternoon. And that was enough.
You slipped inside the Thomasesā estate, greeted by the familiar smell of baked bread and lavender from the garden. The childrenās laughter echoed faintly from upstairs, a small smile tugging at your lips despite the unease you felt about Mrs. Thomas.
As you moved through the grand hallway, the weight of Loganās lingering kiss on your temple stayed with you, soft and comforting. His presence, though absent now, always seemed to cling to the air around you like the warmth of a hearth after a long day.
āY/N!ā Edwinās voice called from the top of the stairs. You looked up to find him peering down at you, his unruly curls falling into his eyes. āCan we go to the park after tea? Phillip says he can run faster than me, but I bet Iāll beat him this time.ā
You smiled up at him, though your thoughts were still on Mrs. Thomas. āWeāll see about that, Edwin. But letās check in on your mother first, alright?ā
He nodded, though his face fell a little, understanding the importance of that moment.
Making your way to Mrs. Thomasās room, you found the air heavier, a staleness clinging to it that made you pause at the door. You knocked softly before entering, the creak of the door barely disturbing the quiet. Mrs. Thomas lay in bed, propped up by pillows, her face pale and drawn. Her once vibrant eyes were duller now, and the small cough you had heard earlier seemed more persistent, rattling in her chest.
āMrs. Thomas,ā you said gently, approaching her bedside with the basket of fresh supplies. āIāve brought some thyme and tea. The doctor will be here later this week.ā
Mrs. Thomas offered a faint smile, though it barely touched her lips. āThank you, dear. Youāre always so thoughtful,ā she said, her voice raspy. She shifted slightly, wincing at the effort it took. āIām sure itās just a little cold.ā
You forced a smile, though something inside you tugged with worry. āOf course. Just a little cold.ā
After a few more moments, you excused yourself, promising to return later. The house felt stifling, the sense of something being wrong making your chest tighten. Logan had been right to be concerned. But you brushed it aside, focusing on the children.
A few hours later, after Edwin had indeed beaten Phillip in a race through the park, and Ada had insisted on collecting wildflowers for her mother, the three children were settled with tea. You were cleaning up the kitchen when a familiar knock came at the back door.
Opening it, you found Logan leaning against the frame, that easy smile already softening the tension in your shoulders.
āThought you might like some company,ā he said, stepping inside and pulling you into a gentle embrace. The warmth of his arms around you instantly melted away the weight of the afternoon, and for a moment, you simply leaned into him, breathing him in.
āGood timing,ā you murmured into his chest. āThe kids are winding down for the night. Edwinās convinced heās going to be the fastest man in the world.ā
Logan chuckled, his chest vibrating against your cheek. āIs that so? Guess Iāll have to challenge him one day.ā
You smiled, pulling back slightly to look up at him. āHeād love that.ā
There was a beat of quiet as Loganās hand came up to brush a stray hair from your face, his thumb lingering just under your jaw. His gaze softened, searching yours for something. It was moments like thisāsmall, tenderāthat reminded you just how much youād come to care for him in these past few weeks.
āYou alright?ā he asked, voice low.
You hesitated, then nodded. āJust⦠worried about Mrs. Thomas. I donāt know, Logan, she seems worse than sheās letting on.ā
Loganās brow furrowed, his hands slipping down to rest on your waist. āSheās tough, right? Sheāll pull through.ā
You nodded again, though the doubt lingered. āI hope so.ā
Logan leaned down, pressing his forehead to yours, the weight of his presence anchoring you. āYouāll let me know if you need anything?ā
āI will,ā you whispered, your hands resting on his chest.
He pulled back just enough to catch your lips in a slow, gentle kiss. It was familiar, the way his mouth moved against yoursāsteady, comforting, with that undercurrent of longing that always seemed to simmer just beneath the surface between you two. When you finally parted, his thumb brushed your cheek, his gaze still locked on yours.
āI hate leaving you here,ā he murmured, the frustration clear in his voice. āEspecially with her sick.ā
You smiled softly, shaking your head. āIāll be fine, Logan. Go home, get some rest.ā
He gave a small grunt, clearly not thrilled with the idea of leaving, but he knew better than to argue when you got like thisādetermined and stubborn.
With a sigh, he leaned in once more, pressing a final kiss to your forehead before stepping back. āAlright. But Iām checking in tomorrow, whether you like it or not.ā
āI wouldnāt expect anything less,ā you teased, though the warmth in your chest grew at his protectiveness.
Logan gave you one last smile before turning to head back out into the night, his coat swaying as he disappeared into the shadows. You watched him go, the familiar tug in your chest pulling at you again, but this time it wasnāt just affection. It was worryāa gnawing sense of unease that had been creeping in since that afternoon in the market.
You stood there at the back door for a moment longer, staring into the empty street, wondering if Logan could feel it tooāthe quiet, unspoken fear that something was about to change.
---
The next few days passed quietly, the routine of the Thomasesā household carrying on as usualāthough the coughs from Mrs. Thomasās room seemed to grow more frequent, more strained. You tried not to think too much of it, telling yourself it was only a cold, that the doctor would sort it out when he came to visit. But there was a part of you, small but insistent, that couldnāt shake the unease gnawing at your thoughts.
The children kept you busy, of course. Edwin was endlessly energetic, challenging Phillip to races and daring Ada to climb the low trees in the garden, much to your chagrin. Ada, sweet and delicate, clung to your side like a shadow, her small hand often finding yours as she babbled on about her imaginary tea parties and grand adventures. In their presence, it was easy to forget the worry in the back of your mindāat least for a little while.
But then, in the quiet momentsālike when you helped Mrs. Thomas to her bed after one of her coughing fits, or when the house seemed far too still after the children had fallen asleepāyour thoughts would drift back to Logan. To the way he had kissed your forehead that day at the back door, how his hand had lingered in yours just a second longer than usual, as if heād sensed it too. That something was wrong.
You found yourself waiting for him. Every evening, as the sun dipped low over the city and the shadows lengthened in the streets, you listened for that familiar knock at the back door. And every evening, without fail, he would comeānever too late, never too early, always arriving when you needed him most.
Tonight was no different.
You were sitting at the small table in the kitchen, a pot of tea cooling beside you, when the soft knock came. A smile tugged at your lips before you could stop it, your heart lifting in that familiar way as you crossed the room and opened the door.
Logan stood there, his dark hair slightly tousled from the evening breeze, his expression soft but watchful. He gave you that crooked smile that always seemed to make everything feel lighter, as if the world wasnāt such a heavy place when he was around.
āThought I might find you here,ā he said, stepping inside and closing the door behind him.
You shrugged, the smile still playing on your lips. āWhere else would I be?ā
He chuckled, moving to lean against the counter, his eyes flicking briefly to the teapot on the table. āYou drinking alone?ā
āFor now,ā you teased, pouring him a cup. āBut I suppose I can share.ā
Logan took the cup from you, his fingers brushing yours in that familiar way, sending a small, warm spark through your skin. He didnāt move to sit, though. Instead, he stayed close, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer than usual, as if trying to read something in your face.
āWhat?ā you asked softly, the weight of his stare making your heart flutter.
āJust checking in,ā he said, his voice lower, more serious than before. āYou look tired.ā
You gave a small, weary laugh, shaking your head. āIām fine, Logan. Just a lot on my mind.ā
āMrs. Thomas?ā he guessed, sipping his tea.
You nodded, glancing at the floor. āSheās getting worse. Iām trying not to worry, but⦠I donāt know, something doesnāt feel right.ā
Loganās brow furrowed, and he set his cup down, moving to stand beside you. His hand came up to rest on your shoulder, his thumb brushing lightly against the fabric of your sleeve. āIf you need me to do anythingāget more medicine, fetch the doctor soonerāyou just say the word.ā
You met his gaze, your chest tightening at the concern etched into his face. He always made you feel safe, even when you didnāt want to admit how scared you were. You reached up, covering his hand with yours, squeezing it gently.
āI know,ā you murmured. āThank you.ā
For a moment, the room was quiet again, the sounds of the city muted by the walls of the house. You could hear the faint crackle of the fire in the hearth, the distant hum of life outside, but here, in this small space, it felt like it was just the two of you. Just the two of you, and the warmth of his hand on your shoulder.
Logan shifted slightly, turning to face you more fully, his other hand coming to rest at your waist. He tugged you closer, his expression softening as he leaned in, his lips brushing your forehead in that tender way that always made your heart skip. But this time, he didnāt stop there. He tilted your chin up gently, his gaze flicking briefly to your lips before meeting your eyes again.
āCāmere,ā he whispered, and you didnāt need any more coaxing.
Your arms slid up around his neck, pulling him in as his lips met yours in a slow, deliberate kiss. It was soft at first, tender, but there was a quiet intensity behind it, a sense of urgency you hadnāt felt before. Maybe it was the weight of the unspoken worry hanging between you, or maybe it was just that every time you kissed him, it felt like it could be the last. Either way, you melted into him, savoring the warmth of his mouth against yours, the way his hands tightened around your waist as if he didnāt want to let you go.
When you finally pulled back, your breath mingling with his, Logan rested his forehead against yours, his eyes closed as he let out a long, slow sigh.
āStay with me tonight,ā you whispered, your voice barely audible. You hadnāt meant to say it, but the words tumbled out before you could stop them. The thought of being alone with your worries, of facing the uncertainty of Mrs. Thomasās illness by yourself, suddenly felt unbearable.
Loganās eyes opened, his gaze soft but searching as he studied your face. āYou sure?ā
You nodded, your hands still resting at the nape of his neck. āI just⦠I donāt want to be alone.ā
He didnāt hesitate after that. With a soft, reassuring smile, he nodded and pressed another kiss to your temple. āAlright. Iām here.ā
---
The doctor had come by some days later bringing by news, Mrs. Thomas had tuberculosis. He gave her at least another month to live.
Mr. Thomas had instructed you to not let the kids near her as often, to make sure they donāt get sick. He didnāt seem to care much about Logan spending the night with you, or letting the kids be around him.
Logan had been spending more nights with you, by your request. It wasnāt something you talked about, just a quiet understanding between the two of you. The nights felt warmer with him beside you, the weight of the world a little lighter when you could lean against him. He never made a big deal out of it either. It was just...natural.
Tonight was no different. You sat by the fire in the small parlor, the children long since asleep upstairs. The flicker of the flames cast shadows across the room, and you caught yourself glancing toward the door, waiting for that familiar knock.
When it came, it was soft, almost hesitant. But you smiled, already rising to your feet to let him in. Logan stepped inside, brushing off the chill of the night as he shook the snow from his coat.
āSnowās picking up out there,ā he muttered, shrugging off the heavy coat and hanging it by the door. āThought Iād get here before it got too bad.ā
You nodded, wrapping your arms around yourself as you watched him. āIām glad you did.ā
He crossed the room, and without another word, his arms wrapped around you. You melted into his chest, resting your head against him as the fire crackled in the hearth. He pressed a kiss to the top of your head, his hand running down your back.
āYou alright?ā he asked quietly, his voice low. āYouāve been quiet lately.ā
You sighed, pulling back just enough to look up at him. āIām fine. Just tired. Itās⦠everything with Mrs. Thomas, the kids⦠Iām trying to keep it together.ā
Logan frowned, his hands tightening slightly on your waist. āYou donāt have to do it all yourself. You know that, right?ā
āI know,ā you said softly. āBut I feel like I have to.ā
āYou donāt,ā he repeated, his eyes searching yours. āIām here.ā
That simple statement hit you harder than you expected. You leaned up, pressing your lips to his in a soft, lingering kiss. He responded instantly, his hand coming up to cup your cheek, deepening the kiss as if he needed it as much as you did. It was slow and tender, and you found yourself pulling him closer, trying to forget the weight of everything else, if only for a moment.
When you finally pulled back, Logan rested his forehead against yours, his breath warm against your lips.
āYou should sleep,ā he whispered. āYouāre exhausted.ā
āWill you stay?ā you asked, your voice small.
āAlways,ā he said without hesitation.
---
The nights blurred together. Logan was there more often than not, sometimes waiting for you when you finished putting the children to bed, other times arriving late after a day spent working. You hadnāt asked where he went during the day, and he hadnāt volunteered the information. It didnāt matter. When he was with you, everything else seemed to fade into the background.
The children, especially Ada, had continued asking why she couldnāt see her mother as often. It had broke your heart to tell her and the boys that their mom was sick, not going any further than that.
āTheyāll understand one day,ā Logan had said, trying to comfort you as you sat by the fire one evening. His arm was around your shoulders, his fingers brushing lightly against your arm.
You nodded, but the heaviness in your chest wouldnāt lift.
āI just want to help,ā you murmured. āBut I canāt.ā
Logan was silent for a moment before he spoke again, his voice low. āYouāre doing more than you think, Y/N. Just being here for the kids, for her... it matters.ā
You looked up at him, your eyes searching his. There was something in the way he looked at you, something deeper than the usual concern. It was a look that made your heart skip, that made you realize just how much he had become a part of your life in such a short time.
He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead before brushing his lips against yours in a slow, gentle kiss. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer, needing that connection, needing him.
When you finally pulled back, you rested your head against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. Loganās hand slid up to cradle the back of your head, his touch soothing.
āIām here,ā he whispered again, as if the words alone could make everything right.
And for a moment, they did.
---
You could tell that after a month and a half, Mrs. Thomas didnāt have much time left. Maybe a week at the most. She was so young, barely 30 years old, and already having to face the inevitable. Her coughing had become more violent, her body thinner with each passing day, and the sparkle in her eyes was gone. She was fading right before your eyes.
It had been a long day. The kids were more restless than usual, likely sensing the shift in the household. Youād spent most of the afternoon calming Edwin and Ada while trying to keep Phillip out of trouble. Ada, in particular, had been clingy, holding onto your skirt as you moved about the house, asking you why her mother wasnāt coming out of her room anymore.
You gave her the same answer as always. āYour mamaās just resting, sweetheart.ā
But even she seemed to sense something was off.
By the time the sun had started to set, you felt the exhaustion in your bones. You barely touched your dinner, pushing food around your plate before giving up entirely. It wasnāt just the physical tiredness, though. It was something deeper. A strange ache in your chest, one you couldnāt quite explain. Maybe it was the weight of everythingāMrs. Thomasās worsening condition, the children, Logan...
You hadnāt seen him tonight, and that small part of you that had grown used to his presence felt the void acutely. He had a way of grounding you, of making everything seem less overwhelming, if only for a little while. You didnāt want to admit it, but you were beginning to rely on him more and more.
As you climbed the stairs to check on the children, your steps felt heavier than usual. Fatigue, you told yourself. Just fatigue.
When you entered Mrs. Thomasās room to help her settle for the night, she gave you a weak smile. āThank you, Y/N... for everything.ā
You smiled back, brushing her hair away from her face as you helped her lie down. āDonāt mention it. You just rest.ā
Her breathing was shallow, the sound rattling in her chest. You tried not to let it show on your face, but inside, that gnawing worry had grown into a full-fledged fear. You knew the end was coming soon. You just hoped the children wouldnāt have to watch her fade.
---
Later that night, after the house had fallen quiet and the children were asleep, you sat by the small fire in the kitchen. You stared at the flickering flames, trying to let the warmth chase away the chill in your bones, but it wasnāt working.
You werenāt surprised when you heard the soft knock at the back door. Loganās timing had always been impeccable, showing up when you needed him most, even if you hadnāt called for him. You rose from your seat and opened the door, letting him in with a small, tired smile.
āCold out there,ā he muttered, brushing the snow from his shoulders before stepping inside. He took one look at your face, and his brows furrowed. āYou look exhausted, Y/N.ā
You waved him off, shutting the door behind him. āItās been a long day. Mrs. Thomas is...ā
He didnāt need you to finish. Heād been coming by enough to know how bad things had gotten.
Logan crossed the small space between you and placed a hand on your arm. āYou should be resting too. Whenās the last time you got a full nightās sleep?ā
You let out a tired laugh, shaking your head. āWhat is that again?ā
āY/N,ā he said, his tone a mix of teasing and concern. āYou canāt keep running yourself ragged. Youāre no good to the kids if you get sick.ā
His words hit a little too close to home. That lingering ache in your chest hadnāt gone away, and now, with him standing so close, it seemed to press harder, making it difficult to breathe. You ignored it, trying to focus on his warm hand still resting on your arm, grounding you.
āIāll be fine,ā you said quietly, leaning against him just slightly. āI just... I need you here. Thatās all.ā
Loganās expression softened, and he slipped his arms around you, pulling you close. You rested your head against his chest, closing your eyes as his warmth enveloped you. It felt like everything else faded away when you were in his armsālike the weight of the world wasnāt quite so heavy.
āIām here,ā he murmured into your hair, his voice low. āIām not going anywhere.ā
You stayed like that for a moment, just holding onto him, letting his presence soothe the anxiety that had been gnawing at you all day. His hands ran up and down your back in slow, soothing motions, and you found yourself relaxing, your shoulders sagging as the tension melted away.
But that ache in your chest didnāt fade. If anything, it seemed to settle deeper, a dull, persistent throb that you couldnāt quite shake.
āI donāt know how much longer she has,ā you whispered, your voice barely audible. āMaybe a week. And the kids... I donāt know how to explain it to them.ā
Logan sighed, his breath warm against your hair. āYouāll find the right words when the time comes. You always do.ā
You werenāt sure about that, but you didnāt argue. Instead, you pulled back just enough to look up at him, your hands still resting against his chest. His eyes met yours, and for a moment, you could see the same worry you felt reflected in his gaze. But there was something else tooāsomething softer, something that made your heart skip a beat.
Before you could say anything, Logan leaned down, pressing his lips to yours in a slow, tender kiss. It wasnāt rushed or urgentājust gentle, like he was trying to tell you without words that he was there, that you didnāt have to carry everything alone.
You kissed him back, your fingers curling into his shirt as you pulled him closer. For a few seconds, it was just the two of you, the world outside forgotten. But when you finally pulled back, the ache in your chest flared again, sharper this time, making you wince slightly.
Loganās eyes narrowed, concern flashing across his face. āYou alright?ā
āYeah,ā you said quickly, brushing it off. āJust... tired, I guess.ā
He didnāt look convinced, but he didnāt push it either. Instead, he kissed your forehead softly, his hands still holding you close. āYou need to sleep. Iāll stay with you, okay?ā
You nodded, letting him lead you to your small bedroom. As you lay down, Logan settled beside you, his arm draped around your waist as he pulled you close. You nestled against him, the warmth of his body soothing, but even as you drifted off to sleep, that strange ache lingered, a quiet reminder that something wasnāt right.
---
Over the next few days, you tried to ignore the fatigue that seemed to cling to you like a heavy blanket. You told yourself it was just the stress, the worry about Mrs. Thomas and the kids. But the truth was, deep down, you knew it was more than that.
Mr. Thomas had been around the house more often, spending almost every moment with his wife before she passed. It would only be a matter of days now. Her condition had deteriorated to the point where she was barely conscious most of the time, her labored breathing a constant reminder of the inevitable.
You moved quietly through the house, keeping the children occupied as best you could. Edwin and Phillip were rambunctious as always, but Ada had grown more subdued. She didnāt ask about her mother as often, as if sensing the unspoken truth everyone was trying to shield her from. You noticed how she clung to your side even more than usual, her small hands gripping your skirts, her wide eyes watching you with a kind of quiet understanding that broke your heart.
It was late afternoon, and the house was eerily quiet. The children were playing in the parlor, their laughter muffled behind the closed doors. You had just finished cleaning up the kitchen when a wave of exhaustion hit you. Your legs felt heavy, your chest tight. You hadnāt been sleeping well, the stress of Mrs. Thomasās condition weighing on you, but this was different. Your appetite had been lacking for days, though youād convinced yourself it was just nerves.
You leaned against the counter, taking a slow, deep breath to steady yourself. It would pass. You just needed rest.
Logan wasnāt due to visit tonight. He had mentioned something about work keeping him late, and you didnāt want to ask him to come by, though the ache in your chestāthe one you tried to ignoreālonged for his presence.
Shaking off the lingering fatigue, you made your way upstairs to check on Mrs. Thomas. As you reached the top of the stairs, you heard her soft, raspy breathing. You hesitated outside the door, your hand resting on the doorknob for a moment, before slowly opening it and stepping inside.
Mr. Thomas sat at his wifeās bedside, holding her hand gently. He glanced up at you, his face pale and drawn, the exhaustion of weeks of worry evident in his eyes. You gave him a small, comforting smile, though you werenāt sure how much comfort you could offer.
"Thank you, Y/N," he said quietly, his voice hoarse from lack of sleep and emotion. "For everything."
You nodded, moving to the other side of the bed to check on Mrs. Thomas. Her eyes were closed, her breathing shallow and uneven. She didnāt stir when you adjusted the blankets around her. The room was stifling, the air heavy with the scent of sickness, and you fought the urge to cough, your throat suddenly dry.
āSheās peaceful,ā you murmured softly, glancing at Mr. Thomas.
He nodded but didnāt say anything. His gaze was fixed on his wife, his hand never leaving hers.
You stayed for a moment longer, but the fatigue creeping up your spine forced you to excuse yourself. As you descended the stairs, your legs felt weaker than before, and a dull ache had settled in your chest. You rubbed absently at your throat, trying to shake off the discomfort. It was nothing, you told yourself. Just tired.
The evening stretched on, the children finally quieting down for bed. You tucked them in, lingering for a moment by Adaās bedside. She reached for your hand, her tiny fingers curling around yours.
āWill Mama be better soon?ā she asked, her voice barely a whisper.
You swallowed the lump in your throat, brushing a lock of hair from her forehead. āSheās resting, sweetheart,ā you said softly. āJust keep being brave, alright?ā
Ada nodded, her eyes already heavy with sleep, though the worry didnāt leave her small face.
Once they were all asleep, you returned downstairs, your body feeling heavier with each step. The fire in the hearth had burned low, casting long shadows across the room. You sat by the fireplace, staring into the dying flames, and let the silence of the house settle over you.
And then there was a soft knock at the back door.
Your heart lifted despite the exhaustion weighing you down. You rose slowly and crossed the room, opening the door to find Logan standing there, snowflakes dusting his hair and coat. He gave you a crooked smile, his eyes scanning your face with concern.
āYou look tired,ā he said softly, stepping inside and closing the door behind him. āReally tired.ā
āIām fine,ā you murmured, though the weariness in your voice betrayed you. āI wasnāt expecting you tonight.ā
āI finished earlier than I thought,ā he said, shrugging off his coat and hanging it by the door. āThought Iād check on you.ā
Without another word, he closed the distance between you, his arms wrapping around you in a gentle embrace. You melted into him, resting your head against his chest as the warmth of his body seeped into yours. For a moment, the ache in your chest seemed to ease, the fatigue lifting just a little.
āThank you,ā you whispered, your voice barely audible.
Logan pulled back slightly, his hand coming up to cup your cheek as he studied your face. āYou donāt have to thank me,ā he said softly, his thumb brushing against your skin. āIām here.ā
His lips met yours in a slow, tender kiss, and you felt the tension in your body begin to unravel. The warmth of his mouth, the familiar strength of his hands holding you closeāit was all you needed in that moment. When the kiss ended, he rested his forehead against yours, his breath mingling with yours.
āYou need to rest,ā he murmured. āYou look like youāre about to fall over.ā
āI will,ā you promised, though you didnāt want to leave his arms just yet. You leaned into him, letting his presence chase away the exhaustion for a little longer.
---
The funeral was only 6 days later, 4 days after Mrs. Thomasā passing. She was buried at the Prospect Cemetery at a small affair with rich people you had only heard of in passing.
The funeral was a somber affair. Mrs. Thomas was laid to rest under a sky that threatened snow, and you stood a little ways back, holding Adaās hand tightly. She had been unusually quiet since her motherās passing, and even Edwin and Phillip had sensed the weight of the occasion, their usual energy tempered by the somber mood.
You glanced around at the crowd gatheredāa sea of dark, expensive fabrics, murmured condolences, and familiar faces. Most of the people you recognized only by name or through brief encounters at the Thomas house. They didnāt seem to belong to the world you inhabited, their whispered conversations and distant gazes a reminder of the divide between their lives and yours.
Mr. Thomas stood near the front, his face a mask of stoicism as he accepted words of sympathy. His children had not left your side, and you knew why. They found more comfort in you than in the strangers who seemed to only appear during tragedies. You didnāt blame them.
As the ceremony came to a close, Ada tugged at your hand. "Can we go home now?" she asked quietly, her voice barely audible over the sound of rustling leaves and shifting boots in the cold.
You nodded, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze. āWe can, sweetheart. Just a few more minutes.ā
You caught Mr. Thomasās eye as he stepped away from the others. He gave you a weary nod, and you knew it was time to leave. You guided the children back to the carriage, helping them inside before following. The ride home was silent, save for the occasional sniffle from Ada and the creaking of the carriage wheels on the cobbled streets.
---
Back at the house, the quiet felt heavier than before. You could feel the weight of grief settling over everything, and it seemed to seep into your bones, making the fatigue that had been gnawing at you for days feel unbearable. Once the children were settled, you retreated to the kitchen, needing a moment to yourself.
But the moment you sat down, the ache in your chest flared up again, sharper this time. You tried to breathe through it, but the tightness only seemed to get worse. A cold sweat broke out on your forehead, and you pressed a hand to your throat, willing it to pass. It felt like something more than just exhaustion now. Something was wrong, but you didnāt have time to worry about it.
The back door creaked open, and you startled, your hand flying to your chest as Logan stepped in. His eyes immediately found yours, narrowing in concern.
āY/N,ā he said, his voice low but urgent as he crossed the room. āWhatās wrong?ā
āNothing,ā you muttered, forcing a weak smile as you tried to stand. āIām just tired. Long day.ā
But Logan wasnāt buying it. His hand caught yours, and he gently pulled you to him, his other hand resting on your waist. āYouāve been tired for days,ā he said quietly, his eyes searching yours. āAnd you look worse now than you did a week ago.ā
āIām fine,ā you insisted, leaning into his warmth without thinking. āJust... everything with Mrs. Thomas. I havenāt been sleeping well, thatās all.ā
Logan didnāt say anything for a moment, just held you there, his thumb brushing slow circles against your hip. āYouāre not fine,ā he said softly. āYou need to rest. Youāre running yourself into the ground, and I donāt wantāā
āI donāt want to talk about it,ā you cut him off, shaking your head as you buried your face in his chest. āI just... I just want to stay like this for a while. Can we do that?ā
Loganās arms tightened around you, and he pressed a kiss to the top of your head. āWe can stay like this as long as you need,ā he whispered.
The warmth of his embrace, the steady rise and fall of his chest, calmed the rapid beating of your heart. It didnāt make the ache in your chest go away, but it dulled the edges for a little while. You stayed like that, your bodies swaying slightly, as if rocking back and forth would somehow soothe the turmoil inside you both.
After a long stretch of silence, Logan pulled back just enough to meet your eyes. His fingers brushed a loose strand of hair from your face, his gaze soft but serious. āYouāve gotta start taking care of yourself,ā he murmured. āI mean it, Y/N.ā
āI will,ā you promised, though you werenāt sure how much of it was for him and how much was for yourself. You could see the worry etched in his features, and it made your heart ache in a different way. āI just... I donāt want to leave the kids right now. They need me.ā
Logan sighed, shaking his head slightly. āThey need you alive and healthy, not running yourself ragged.ā
You knew he was right, but the thought of stepping awayāof not being there for them when they needed you mostāmade your stomach turn.
āI know,ā you whispered, your voice barely audible. āBut Iām all they have right now.ā
Loganās expression softened, and he leaned in to kiss you gently, his lips lingering against yours in a way that felt both comforting and urgent, as if he was trying to convey everything he couldnāt put into words.
When he pulled back, he rested his forehead against yours, his breath warm against your skin. āYouāre not alone in this, Y/N,ā he murmured. āIām here. Always.ā
You closed your eyes, letting the weight of his words settle over you. It was moments like this, in the quiet after the storm, that made everything feel bearable, even when the exhaustion seemed impossible to shake. You didnāt want to think about what came nextāthe inevitable questions from the children, the grief that would continue to hang over the house like a dark cloud.
For now, you just wanted to be here, with Logan, in this fleeting moment of peace.
---
Over the next few days, that small cough persisted, annoying but easy to brush off at first. You told yourself it was just the cold weather, or maybe the exhaustion still clinging to you. But it stuck around, and soon it wasnāt just a cough. Your chest felt heavier, and there were moments where you had to stop to catch your breath.
You didnāt say anything to Logan the first few nights he visited, not wanting to worry him. It wasnāt like you were coughing up blood or anything, and you figured it would pass, just like the fatigue had started to. But when he saw you rubbing your chest again, his eyes narrowed with concern.
āYouāve been coughing a lot,ā Logan said one evening, his arm draped casually over your shoulder as you leaned into him by the fire. The warmth of the flames helped ease the tightness in your chest, but even then, it felt harder to breathe than it had before.
āIām fine,ā you mumbled, tucking your legs under you and snuggling closer to him, hoping to avoid the conversation. āItās just the cold. Everyoneās getting sick this time of year.ā
Logan tilted his head, clearly unconvinced. āY/N, donāt pull that. I know you, and youāre coughing more than you should be. This isnāt just a cold.ā
You sighed, not wanting to argue, but the exhaustion weighed on you, and fighting him off seemed too tiring. āOkay, maybe itās not just a cold,ā you admitted, glancing at him. āBut itās nothing serious. Iām just run down.ā
Loganās fingers gently traced up your arm, his touch familiar and grounding. He looked at you with that steady gaze of his, the one that made you feel safe. āYou need to rest. Real rest, not just five minutes of sleep here and there between looking after the kids.ā
You gave him a half-hearted smile, reaching up to touch his face. āI know. But they need me right now, especially Ada. Sheās not taking this well, and I canāt just leave her.ā
Logan leaned in and pressed his forehead to yours, his breath warm against your skin. āYouāre no good to them if you collapse from exhaustion.ā
The way he said itāso serious, so protectiveāit made your chest ache in a different way. You knew he was right, but the thought of taking a step back when the kids were still hurting felt impossible.
āIām not going anywhere,ā you whispered, but your voice wavered just enough that Logan picked up on it.
He kissed you softly, slow and gentle, like he was trying to pour all of his concern into that one kiss. When he pulled back, his hand lingered on the side of your face. āYou donāt have to carry this by yourself, Y/N,ā he said softly. āIām here.ā
You looked at him, feeling the weight of his words, and for a moment, you let yourself believe itāthat you didnāt have to do everything on your own.
But the next morning, as you moved through the house and got the kids ready for the day, the cough came back with a vengeance. It left you winded, gripping the counter to steady yourself as your breath caught in your throat. Ada was tugging at your skirt, asking for something, but the ringing in your ears made it hard to focus.
āY/N?ā her small voice called, but everything sounded distant.
You forced yourself to smile, pushing through the wave of dizziness. āIām okay, sweetheart,ā you said, though it was more for you than her. The ache in your chest was sharper now, and for the first time, a flicker of real fear crossed your mind.
That evening, when Logan came by, you didnāt have the energy to hide how bad you felt. The second he walked through the door, he saw it in your face.
āY/N,ā he said, his voice urgent as he rushed to your side. āWhat the hell happened? You look worse.ā
You tried to brush it off, but the cough came again, harsher this time, and Loganās eyes darkened with worry. His hands were on you, steadying you as you leaned into him, the warmth of his body grounding you again.
āYouāre not fine,ā he said, his tone more serious now. āI shouldāve done something sooner.ā
āLogan, donātāā
āIām taking you to a doctor,ā he interrupted, his jaw set. āNo arguing.ā
You wanted to protest, but the truth was, you didnāt have the strength to fight him. You were too tired, too worn down, and part of you was scared. So you nodded, letting him pull you into his arms as if holding you close would make everything better.
āIām here,ā Logan whispered against your hair, his voice soft and filled with a tenderness that made your heart ache. āIāll take care of you, okay? Youāre not going through this alone.ā
---
The next morning, Logan arrived earlier than usual. He wasnāt taking any chances, especially after the night before. Youād barely slept, your coughing keeping you awake for most of it, and when you did manage to drift off, it was only in short, restless intervals.
Logan helped you into the carriage heād hired, his hands lingering on your arms longer than necessary, his brow furrowed with worry. He hadnāt said much since arriving, just a quiet āMornināā before ushering you outside. His concern was written all over his face, even though he tried to hide it behind a mask of calm.
You leaned back against the seat, closing your eyes as the carriage bumped along the cobbled streets. Each breath felt heavier, the tightness in your chest worsening by the day. You didnāt want to admit it, but you knew this was more than just a cold. The cough had settled deep, rattling in your lungs, and even though you tried to convince yourself it was nothing serious, the thought that it could be something more was gnawing at you.
Logan sat beside you, his knee pressed against yours as he kept a protective hand on your leg. Every so often, youād feel his gaze on you, watching, as if checking to make sure you were still holding on. The warmth of his presence was a comfort, even if you didnāt say it out loud.
When the carriage finally stopped, you opened your eyes and saw the modest sign hanging above the doctor's office. Logan didnāt waste any time helping you down, his arm tight around your waist as you made your way inside.
The waiting room was quiet, the air thick with the scent of medicinal herbs. Logan barely let go of you the entire time, his arm never leaving your waist, and when the doctor finally called you in, Logan made it clear he wasnāt going anywhere.
Inside the small exam room, the doctorāa middle-aged man with silver hair and a kind faceāgreeted you both with a nod. His expression shifted when he looked at you, though, his eyes softening in a way that made your stomach churn with nerves.
āHow long have you had the cough, miss?ā the doctor asked as you sat down, Logan standing right behind you.
āA few days,ā you said, your voice raspy and weak. āMaybe a little longer.ā
The doctor frowned slightly, moving closer to examine you. āAnd the fatigue? Any weight loss?ā
You nodded. āYes... Iāve been really tired, and I havenāt had much of an appetite.ā
Loganās hand rested on your shoulder, a silent reassurance that he was there. The doctor continued his examination, listening to your chest with a stethoscope, his brow furrowing as he moved from side to side.
After what felt like an eternity, the doctor stepped back, letting out a slow breath. He met your eyes, and you knew immediately that it wasnāt good.
āI donāt want to alarm you,ā he began, his voice gentle. āBut given your symptoms and the sound of your lungs, I believe you may have contracted tuberculosis.ā
The words hung in the air like a heavy weight. You felt Logan tense behind you, his grip on your shoulder tightening ever so slightly.
Tuberculosis.
The sickness that had taken Mrs. Thomas. The same one that had been lingering in the house for weeks.
Your heart pounded in your chest, and for a moment, you couldnāt breathe. Youād heard the storiesāthe way it ravaged families, the way it spread so easily. Youād seen it firsthand with Mrs. Thomas, watching her waste away before your eyes.
āHow... how bad is it?ā Loganās voice was rough, strained, like he was barely holding himself together.
The doctor glanced at him, his expression serious. āItās hard to say right now. Tuberculosis can vary greatly in severity. Weāll need to monitor her closely. Rest, proper care, and keeping her away from others as much as possible will be essential.ā
You tried to swallow, but your throat felt tight. āWhat... what do we do now?ā
The doctor sighed. āWeāll start with treatment to help ease the symptomsāmedicinal herbs, rest, and a strict diet. Itās crucial that you avoid any further exertion. Youāll need to isolate yourself to prevent it from spreading.ā
You nodded, but your mind was spinning. The thought of being confined, of having to stay away from the childrenāit made your chest tighten even more. How were you supposed to care for them when you couldnāt even take care of yourself?
Logan crouched down in front of you, his eyes searching yours as he held your hands in his. āWeāll figure this out, okay?ā he said softly. āYouāll rest, and Iāll help with the kids. Youāre not doing this alone.ā
Tears pricked the corners of your eyes, but you blinked them away. You didnāt want to cry, didnāt want Logan to see how scared you really were.
āI donāt want to leave them,ā you whispered, your voice shaking. āThey need me.ā
āI know,ā Logan murmured, his thumb rubbing soothing circles against your hand. āBut they need you healthy, Y/N. And I need you healthy.ā
You looked at him, your heart aching at the sight of his worry. He was trying so hard to be strong for you, to keep it together, but you could see the fear in his eyesāthe same fear you felt deep in your bones.
āWeāll get through this,ā he said firmly. āYouāre not going anywhere, okay? Not without a fight.ā
You nodded, squeezing his hands as tightly as you could. Logan stayed close, his presence a steady, comforting force as the weight of the diagnosis settled over you both.
---
Weeks passed, and the house became quieter. The children were kept at a distance, the once lively home now feeling more like a tomb as you spent your days in bed, trying to gather what little strength you had left. Logan had taken over your duties, ensuring the children were cared for while also staying close to you.
Your body grew weaker with each passing day, the illness creeping deeper into your lungs. The once mild cough had turned into something far more painful, leaving you breathless and exhausted after every fit. You knew, deep down, that the end was approaching. You could feel it in the way your energy dwindled, the way even opening your eyes took effort.
Logan, on the other hand, refused to give up. He never spoke of what was coming, never let on that he saw the same inevitable truth. Instead, he clung to hope, pushing you to eat, to drink, to rest. His presence was a constant, grounding you even in your weakest moments.
Sometimes you even talked about the future, the one you knew you would never have, and the one Logan hoped you would, with him.
Your coughing fit had died down for now, leaving you in bed with your head resting against Loganās shoulder. His arm was wrapped protectively around you, and the warmth of his body gave you a sense of comfort, even when the pain in your chest didnāt. You took in a shaky breath and spoke softly.
āIāve always wanted a dog,ā you murmured, your voice still weak. āMaybe two.ā
Logan shifted slightly, his chin resting on top of your head. āYeah? What kind?ā
You shrugged, smiling a little. āDoesnāt really matter. I just like the idea of having something waiting for me at home, you know? Something happy to see me, no matter what kind of day Iāve had.ā
He chuckled quietly, the sound vibrating through his chest. āYouād be a good dog mom.ā
You looked up at him, a playful glint in your tired eyes. āYou think?ā
āDefinitely. Youāve already got all the practice with the kids.ā He paused, his thumb gently brushing the back of your hand. āExcept maybe the dog would be less trouble.ā
You laughed, but it turned into a cough, and you quickly brought a hand to your mouth. Logan tensed beside you, waiting until the coughing subsided before speaking again.
āYouāre gonna get better, Y/N,ā he said softly, his voice firm, but the edge of worry was clear. āWeāll get you that dog. Or two.ā
You didnāt respond right away. You wanted to believe himāreally, you didābut each day you felt weaker, and it was getting harder to ignore the reality of your situation. But you also didnāt want to drag him down with your fears, so you leaned into him instead, letting the moment linger.
You put your chin on his shoulder, looking up at him, āhow many kids would you want?ā
Logan looked at you, a soft smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. āKids, huh?ā His voice was warm, teasing, but there was something tender in the way he looked at you, like he was imagining it for real.
āYeah,ā you said, resting your chin on his shoulder, eyes searching his face. āI know itās kind of silly to think about right now, but... I like the idea. You?ā
He took a breath, his fingers tracing absent patterns on your arm. āI donāt know,ā he admitted. āNever really thought much about it until you.ā
You raised an eyebrow. āUntil me?ā
Logan chuckled softly. āYeah. Before you, I wasnāt really thinkinā about things like... a future, you know? I didnāt even know if Iād stay in the city long. But now... now I think about things I never used to.ā He paused, glancing down at your hand, his fingers interlacing with yours. āLike kids, and... us.ā
Your heart fluttered at that, the weight of his words settling in. Heād never said anything like that beforeānothing about the future beyond today or tomorrow. It wasnāt like either of you knew what was coming, especially now, but hearing him say that he thought about you in that way made everything feel more real. More possible.
You grinned, nudging him playfully. āSo, how many then? Two? Three?ā
Logan laughed quietly. āTwo sounds good. Just enough to keep us on our toes, but not so many we lose our minds.ā
You giggled, a sound that quickly turned into a cough, and Loganās smile faded a little, worry creeping back into his eyes. But he didnāt say anything. Instead, he just held you closer, his arms wrapping around you like he could shield you from everything bad in the world.
Once the cough subsided, you leaned your head back against his chest. āI think youād be a good dad, Logan.ā
His hand stilled against your arm. āYou think?ā
āYeah,ā you said softly. āYouāre good with the kids now, even if you donāt realize it. They like you, trust you. Youād protect them... care for them.ā
Logan was quiet for a moment, and you could feel the weight of his thoughts. āIād try,ā he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper.
The warmth of his body, the steadiness of his presenceāit was enough to make you forget, for just a little while, how weak you felt. You closed your eyes, letting yourself sink into the comfort of him, of this moment, even though you knew it wouldnāt last.
āDo you ever wonder what itād be like?ā you asked quietly. āIf we didnāt have to worry about... this.ā You gestured vaguely, meaning the illness, the uncertainty, all of it.
āAll the time,ā Logan murmured. āBut weāve still got time, Y/N. Iām not giving up on you.ā
You opened your eyes, looking up at him. āYou really think weāll make it through this?ā
Loganās gaze was unwavering. āI know we will.ā
His confidence, his belief in you, in this, made your heart ache in the best way. You wanted to believe him, wanted to hold onto that hope, even though the fear lingered in the back of your mind.
āYou donāt have to be so tough all the time,ā Logan said gently, brushing a loose strand of hair from your face. āItās okay to lean on me.ā
You looked at him, your chest tight for a different reason now. āI know.ā
And you did. Logan was always there, steady and unshakable, even when you felt like you were falling apart. You didnāt have to do this alone, even if part of you still felt like you should.
Logan leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering there for a moment longer than usual. āIām with you, Y/N,ā he whispered. āNo matter what.ā
You closed your eyes again, savoring the warmth of his kiss, the feeling of his arms around you. For now, that was enough.
But even as you rested against him, part of you couldnāt shake the nagging feeling that your time was running out.
---
Logan hated the fact that everything you said was in past tense. How you wouldāve liked to learn how to bake bread in that cabin you wanted.
How you wouldāve liked to learn how to crochet.
Logan sat on the edge of the bed, watching you with a quiet intensity. You had been talking again, your voice soft and tired, about all the things you wished you had more time to do. It was starting to drive him crazyāthe way you spoke in past tense, like you were already halfway gone.
āWouldāve liked to learn how to crochet,ā he repeated softly, his eyes never leaving your face.
You smiled, but it didnāt reach your eyes. āYeah. I always thought itād be nice to make something with my hands. You know, like a blanket or something... for the cabin.ā
Loganās chest tightened. He hated thisāhated that you were talking about all these little dreams like they were out of reach. He leaned forward, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. āYouāre gonna be fine, Y/N,ā he said, trying to sound more certain than he felt. āYouāll still have time for all that.ā
You met his gaze, your eyes soft but filled with something elseāsomething that made his heart ache. āLogan...ā
āNo,ā he interrupted, shaking his head. āYou donāt get to talk like that. Weāre gonna get you through this.ā
You let out a soft sigh, your hand coming up to touch his cheek. āYou donāt always have to be strong, you know. Itās okay to be scared.ā
āIām not scared,ā Logan said quickly, though the way he gripped your hand a little tighter gave him away. He wasnāt ready to admit itāto you, to himselfāthat the thought of losing you scared him more than anything heād ever faced.
You smiled faintly, shifting on the bed so you could lean into him. āI know you, Logan. You donāt have to pretend for me.ā
Logan felt his throat tighten as you pressed closer to him. He wrapped his arm around you, pulling you into his chest, trying to hold on to the moment for as long as he could. Your body felt so fragile against his, like you could break if he held you too tight. But he needed to feel you, to remind himself that you were still here.
āDonāt,ā Logan said, his voice thick with emotion. āDonāt talk like that.ā He looked away for a second, trying to regain control of the storm raging inside him. He didnāt want to hear the finality in your voice, didnāt want to acknowledge the possibility that you might slip away from him.
You reached out, your hand trembling slightly as you touched his cheek. āLogan, you know as well as I do...ā
āNo,ā he repeated, cutting you off again, his voice gruff but shaky. His hand covered yours, pressing it gently against his face. āIām not losing you. I donāt care what the doctor says. Weāll fight this. Weāll get through it.ā
There was a long silence between you, the air heavy with the unspoken truth. You didnāt have the heart to argue with him, but you knew. You could feel it in your bones, in the way your body was failing you little by little every day. But Loganās refusal to accept that reality made you love him even more, even if it hurt.
You gave him a sad smile, your eyes locking with his. āI love you, Logan.ā
His breath caught, and for a moment, he couldnāt speak. The weight of those wordsāwords youād both danced around but never truly saidāhit him like a punch to the gut. He leaned in close, his forehead resting against yours, his voice barely a whisper.
āI love you too, Y/N,ā he finally said, his voice breaking just a little.
You closed your eyes, letting the warmth of his words wash over you. It wasnāt fair, any of this. Youād only just begun to imagine a life with him, and now that future was slipping through your fingers.
Logan held you tighter, his arms wrapped around you as if he could protect you from everything, even death. He kissed your forehead, then your cheek, before pressing a final, lingering kiss to your lips. It wasnāt passionate or desperateājust soft, filled with all the love he hadnāt yet had the chance to show you.
āIām here,ā he whispered again, his lips brushing against your skin. āAlways.ā
And for a moment, despite the pain, despite everything, you believed him. Because even if the future was uncertain, even if you didnāt have much time left, you had this. You had him. And for now, that was enough.
---
Nothing had worked, and nothing was working.
You had already accepted your fate, but Logan couldnātāno matter how many times you tried to explain. He kept his focus on you, his stubborn hope unwavering, even though you both knew time was running out.
āYouāre gonna be fine, Y/N. Youāll see,ā he said softly, sitting beside you on the bed. He brushed a hand through your hair, his touch gentle, but the worry in his eyes was impossible to miss.
You looked up at him, your chest tightānot from the sickness, but from the overwhelming love you felt for him in that moment. āLogan... we need to talk about this.ā
He shook his head immediately, his jaw clenched. āNo, we donāt. We donāt have to talk about anything like that. Youāre gonna get better, and weāll figure everything out.ā His voice cracked just a little at the end, betraying the fear he was trying to hide.
You reached for his hand, your fingers trembling as they closed around his. āI donāt want to pretend anymore. I donāt want to spend what little time we have left lying to ourselves.ā
Logan looked down at your intertwined hands, his thumb tracing slow circles on your skin. āBut I canāt... I canāt think about losing you.ā
āYou donāt have to think about it,ā you whispered, leaning your head against his shoulder. āBut we need to be honest with each other. Iām not getting better, Logan. We both know that.ā
His whole body tensed beside you, and he turned his head away as if looking anywhere but at you would somehow make your words less real. āI canāt... I canāt lose you, Y/N.ā
You swallowed the lump in your throat and leaned closer, pressing your lips softly to his jaw. āI love you, Logan. Thatās all that matters to me right now.ā
His breath hitched, and for a long moment, he didnāt say anything. He just sat there, holding you as if he could protect you from the inevitable, his arms tightening around you.
After a while, he finally spoke, his voice barely a whisper. āI love you too. More than anything. Thatās why Iām not giving up.ā
You pulled back slightly, looking up at him, your heart breaking for him. āI know youāre trying to protect me... but I donāt want you to carry this alone. I need you to be here with me, in this moment, not fighting something we canāt change.ā
Loganās eyes met yours, and for a second, the wall heād built around himself seemed to crack. āI donāt know how to do that,ā he admitted. āI donāt know how to just... be.ā
āYou donāt have to be strong all the time,ā you whispered, your hand reaching up to cup his cheek. āYou can let go.ā
His eyes softened, and before you could say anything else, Logan leaned in and kissed youāsoft, but with an intensity that made your heart ache. It was a kiss that said everything he couldnāt put into words: the fear, the love, the desperation to hold onto whatever time you had left.
When he finally pulled away, his forehead rested against yours, his breath shaky. āI donāt know how to say goodbye,ā he whispered.
You closed your eyes, your hand still resting on his cheek. āWe donāt have to say goodbye yet. Just stay with me. Thatās all I want.ā
Logan didnāt respond with words. Instead, he held you tighter, his arms wrapping around you as if he could keep you with him through sheer willpower alone. You could feel the tremble in his hands, the way his breath hitched every now and then like he was fighting back tears.
For a while, you both stayed like that, wrapped up in each other, the world outside fading into nothingness. There was no cough, no sickness, no uncertaintyājust the warmth of Loganās body against yours and the steady beat of his heart beneath your hand.
Eventually, you spoke, your voice barely audible. āI wish we had more time.ā
Loganās grip tightened slightly. āMe too.ā
You felt a lump in your throat, but you forced a small smile. āYou know... if things were different, I think weād have had a pretty good life together.ā
Loganās voice was thick with emotion as he replied, āWe still will. Somehow... someday.ā
You leaned your head against his chest, listening to the sound of his heartbeat. āMaybe in another life.ā
Logan didnāt say anything, but you could feel the way his body stiffened, like he couldnāt stand the thought of losing you againāeven in another life.
āYou donāt have to be alone, Logan,ā you whispered, your voice soft but filled with all the love you had left. āPromise me you wonāt shut yourself off.ā
He was silent for a long moment, and when he finally spoke, his voice was rough and raw. āI canāt promise that.ā
You smiled faintly, knowing that was the best you were going to get from him. āJust... donāt forget me.ā
Logan leaned down and pressed another kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering there for a long time. āI could never forget you.ā
The room was quiet after that, the only sound the soft rustling of the blankets as Logan adjusted you in his arms, pulling you closer.
You closed your eyes, feeling the exhaustion creeping in again, but this time it didnāt feel so overwhelming. With Loganās warmth surrounding you, with his quiet strength holding you up, you felt at peace.
---
You had passed away in your sleep that night, in Loganās arms. He had stayed up, something in his subconscious telling him to keep his eye on you.
And he did, he felt you take your last breath; one that didnāt seem as painful as when you were awake.
Logan held you close, his arms tightening around you instinctively as he realized what had just happened. His mind refused to process it, refused to accept that this was it. He stared at you, his chest rising and falling in rhythm with breaths that felt foreign in his own body. You werenāt moving anymore, not even the faintest stir.
For a long time, he didnāt let go. He couldnāt. His arms stayed wrapped around you, his face buried in your hair, willing his warmth into your body as if that could somehow bring you back.
"Y/N..." he whispered, his voice broken. He lifted his head slightly, his thumb brushing your cold cheek. "Please... wake up."
There was no answer.
Logan swallowed hard, his throat burning, his chest tightening. His hand trembled as it caressed your face, fingers gently tucking your hair behind your ear like heād done a hundred times before. But this time, there was no playful smile in return. No teasing comment about how messy your hair always was.
It was quiet. Too quiet.
He let out a shaky breath, his other hand clutching the bedsheet, the weight of what had happened finally starting to crush him. He knew this moment was comingāheād known it for weeks, maybe even monthsābut now that it was here, it didnāt feel real. He couldnāt understand how it had come to this, how someone as full of life as you could just... stop.
āY/N... donāt do this... please,ā he whispered again, his voice barely audible as if saying it any louder would make it more true. His hand lingered on your cheek, hoping for even the smallest sign that youād take another breath.
But nothing came.
He stayed like that for a long time, just holding you, feeling the weight of your stillness.
Logan had never felt so powerless in his life. For all the things he could do, for all the strength in his bones, none of it could save you. His healing couldnāt save you. The realization cut him deeper than any wound ever had.
At some point, he felt his chest tremble, felt the tears start to burn at the corners of his eyes. He hadnāt cried in years, maybe everānot like thisābut he couldnāt stop it now. Not when heād lost you.
āI... I love you,ā he choked out, the words falling from his lips like a confession, like an apology for not saying it enough while you were still here to hear it. He pressed his forehead to yours, his voice breaking again. āI love you so much...ā
The room was silent, except for the sound of Loganās ragged breathing and the ticking of the old clock in the corner, each second passing with an agonizing slowness. He wished he could turn it back, go back to when you were still hereālaughing, talking, smiling. Anything but this.
But he couldnāt.
And the weight of that realization shattered him.
For the first time in his life, Logan had no fight left in him. Not for this. Not without you.
i'm not gonna lie, i definitely started crying while writing those last few scenes, even though i knew how it was gonna end
just a little note for everyone (i'll probably add this at the end of every chapter just cause it helped me when writing) in this chapter, logan is 22 years old and reader is around the same age.
tags: @seasonofthenerd @golden-ebony @planetxella @tighrenicotine @wittyjasontodd @cherrypieyourface @tumharisakhi @person-005 @zaggprincess2
me after starting this series specifically for the angst:
can someone please recommend me a logan x reader fic (series or not) thatās kinda long and angsty? š„¹
list of nicknames logan has for his significant other before i go to bed cause i canāt stop thinking about this:
~baby (OF COURSE DONT FUCKING TRY TO SAY OTHERWISE)
~babydoll
~darlin (duh)
~sweetheart
~sweet girl or boy
~sweet thing
~sweets
~doll
~princess
~pretty girl or boy
~pretty doll
~pretty baby
~my girl or boy
~babe (literally so casually too idk i can hear it)
~mama (if you ever have kids with him. me personally no cuz i hate kids but i fear this is accurate)
~sweet cheeks (he would cuz it makes you laugh)
~honey
~bubs (obv even though some people hate it i think itās cute but i understand why yall donāt like bub sometimes)
on another note he would def call any little kid bub like
āhi loganā
ābubā with like a courtesy nod as if heās talking to someone his age
~gorgeous/ beautiful/ whatever else to describe how perfect you are to him
HE WOULD 100% SAY āhi beautifulā prove me wrong you CANT
hed also say stuff like āhi/bye prettyā when youāre not even dating yet to see you all flustered and shy and tease you
~ANGEL (heād so do this idk itās very on brand)
~trouble (like old man lo or dofp or any version of him thatās somewhat greying)
~missus in the way of like referring to you around someone else
āiāll see what the missus saysā
~heād 100% also call you his wife/husband even if youād only been dating for a few months cause heās possessive like that
iāll update if i find more š

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How he comforts you when you're upset.
this is the second request from the anon ask u can find here!
Origins Logan -
He pulls you into his lap and holds you real tight. He clocks you being upset instantly because he can hear it. He hates seeing you upset. So he really tries to make you feel better. He doesn't push you to talk but he will just be there with you. He'll play with your hair or scratch your back or just do something to help take your mind off things. He kisses you nice and soft and wipe away any tears.
Trilogy Logan -
Low key all you need from trilogy Logan is just a big bear hug and it will probably fix anything that's wrong. You try to hide that you're upset but Logan can tell. Things seem off and he probably lurks around you until you finally give in and tell him what's wrong. He makes jokes to try and get you to smile and tells you he'll deal with anyone if they're the reason you're upset. But in the end he'll just give you cuddles and a little extra PDA to make you happy.
DOFP Logan -
He wants you to tell him what's wrong so he can try and help. Sometimes things can't be helped and it's just a bad day so he does his best to do things to make you feel better. Makes you tea or makes you a snack. He might try and be like "man these kids are awful at history" and show you the terrible essays they handed in to see if it makes you laugh at all. There's a lot of similarity with all the Logan's though in the sense that usually the best thing he can do is just hold you. So I can see DOFP Logan sitting you in his lap while he grades and lets you vent or just lets you hold onto him. Whatever makes you feel better.
Old Man Logan -
He's not the best with comfort but he tries. He's not home a lot so its hard to always be there for you but he does have a phone and sometimes if he's in between jobs he'll call you to check up on you. He also stops at some run down gas station and grabs your favorite candy or maybe a canned coffee for the next morning. Money is tight but Logan doesn't mind taking an extra ride to get you something nice. When he is home it's mostly just cuddles.
Worst Logan -
I think he panics at first. Like what does he know about making someone feel better? He's a mess himself there's no way he can help you too. He worries about saying or doing the wrong thing but he's so wrapped up in his worry that he doesn't get that he is the perfect person to help. He might not know the perfect thing to say to make it all better but he knows that sometimes you just need a hug or to talk. He's not a talker but he can listen and offer you a beer. Like I'm picturing sitting on the apartment balcony sharing a root beer or beer and he's got his arm around you and your head is on his shoulder and it's just peaceful.
Hugh and Ella Beatty in Sexual Misconduct of the Middle Classes - posted by audibletheater on Instagram. There is also a People article with the same pictures. None of this is helping my FOMO š©š©š©


