And Then He Smiled (Logicality)

Chapter 83 - Something More

Footsteps trailed the edges of the apartment swaying it's gaze towards the coffee table every few minutes. Upon it was Logan's phone, a number was typed into it, only waiting to be dialed for the first time in over a decade. To be fair, even when he used to call it, it wasn't fairly often. Still, the thought of dialing it again without him... it felt wrong.

Sighing, Logan's hands slid down his face, pulling his skin down slightly as he groaned, only now noticing the aching pain in his legs, ushering him to finally sit down.

Now, Logan sat across from the phone, his eyes couldn't avoid the screen's stare. All he had to do it call the number. It wasn't hard. Yet his shoulders had never felt heavier. The silence forced him to listen to the beating of his own heart, pounding over his own thoughts. He deserved this at the very least.

After Virgil's funeral, he didn't keep in touch with the family. There was no reason to do so now either. Even so, it only felt right to invite them, even if their response was 'no'.

No one was home to witness his dilemma, so the only council he could turn to was his own. It wasn't great company, nor welcomed company.

'They wouldn't say yes so why ask?'
'What right do you have to seek them out now?'
'They wouldn't want to see you or hear you'
'They probably blame you for what happened to Virgil'
'Do they even remember you?'
'Would they want a reminder of their youngest son?'

Such questions plagued Logan's subconscious. Nonetheless, the phone was still there and the number was still typed in: it's waiting to be dialed. Its stare lingered, judging Logan's every breath as if it was offensive somehow.

Groaning, Logan scrunched his nose as he slipped the phone into his palm. Tapping the seat beside him impaitently Logan glared uncomfortably at the screen as it flickered off. Turning it on again, Logan watched the screen again. A few minutes later, the screen turned off again. For half an hour, Logan procrastinated, turning it on before it turned itself off. That was as far as Logan allowed himself to go with the call. If one would even call it a call.

Staring up at the ceiling Logan's grip loosened around the phone's case. As he began to loose himself in his thoughts as easy as spilling water.

If he were to call them, would they even answer. If they did answer would they hang up when he reintroduced himself. Would they even want to hear from him. He'd long accepted that there wasn't anything he could have done for Virgil, but that doesn't remove the fact that others may not share this view. And if they didn't, would they even be open to hearing his side of the story. But what if they did want to hear from him, what if they'd been waiting to hear something from him? As unlikely as it is, perhaps they'd be able to share their own stories about his friend and help each other with this old scar. That's only assuming that they've held onto their grief as long as Logan had.

And Logan had been keeping a tight grasp around the neck of his grief.

What's the worst that can happen? Is a question you should never ask yourself.

Pressing the call button, the phone buzzed as the jingle rang through the room, waiting for Eleanor to pick up the phone, assuming she would answer the phone to a stranger. However that's assuming she has deleted his number. There were too many variables to consider it's a futile attempt at reassurance of the self.

"Hello?" The voice was older, gravelier yet still remained familiar to his ears. His chest tightened as the women continued speaking, "Is this Logan?" She asked.

Clearing his throat, Logan gulped down the saliva that had built up in his mouth. "Y-yes, it's Logan," He answered the woman most prevailent from his teen years.

He could almost feel how the woman lit up on the other side of the line, he recoiled at the unsettling, irrational feeling that boiled up in his stomach. "Darling, it's been what? A decade since we last talked, I've been wondering what you've been up too," She began, Eleanor always spoke a lot, "I would have called but with all that had....happened," She seemed to sulk back into that mournful woman he'd known for a moment before the phone went silent. "So, is there any particular reason you decided to call?" She asked, deflecting the previous conversation, "Well, you don't need a reason but it has been a decade Logan," she said slightly breathy before allowing a few moments for Logan to speak after her.

Sharply breathing in, Logan read the notes he wrote the other day. It was to help guide the converation for Logan. Knowing Eleanor, it most likely wouldn't work. "Um, there is a reason, you don't have to," Logan let the silence lay between them for a second, "Would you rather meet face to face, I believe that may be best for the conversation?" Logan suggested for himself.

"Of course," Her voice softened at the suggestion of meeting up. Similar to the way Patton spoke to Yvette some nights. "Where would you like to meet?" She asked.

Leg bouncing, Logan's gaze scattered around the room, "Um, my apartment would probably be best, I'll send you the adress over text. When would you be free?" He asked her back; the idea of answering a question with another question always made him feel weird of some sorts.

"I'll be free all week," Eleanor said to him, the pages of a planner being flicked could be heard as she continued speaking,"Will that be all?"

"Yes," Logan said, pausing for a  second hesitating slightly before adding more to his statement, "And...thank you for picking up the phone," He told her completely genuine with every word he said. It felt like he could say more. It felt like he should have said more to her. Maybe it would mean more to her if he said something more.

"They'll be enough time to talk about all that when I come and visit Logan, don't worry," Eleanor reasured him.

"Would you be alright with coming over today?"

"If that's alright with you?"

Thinking for a moment, Logan spoke again, "Yeah, that would work well with our plans," Logan confirmed, a few seconds passed before Logan spoke again, his voice as gentle as Eleanor's own, "And, thank you again,"

"I'll see you in a bit Logan, take care of yourself," the call ended with the usual beep leaving the empty room deathly quiet.

Shoulders slumping into the sofa, Logan allowed himself to take a deep breath in, breathing in the moment for what it was. Light flickered into the room as the clouds parted outside, the slight chilling breeze tickling the hairs on his cheeks, the hum of the boiler, the weight of his cell phone in his hand. Time seemed to stop rushing as if it was running away from him. Now, his shoulders felt a bit lighter than before, yet there was still weight there. It would be easier with time.

Only now had Logan realised how heavy his eyes felt and how sore his limbs were. The faint ache in his leg still lingered from the accident and the pacing left an irratable buzz in his joints, eager to get up and move again. Yet his knees felt cramped in place, his ankles pinned in their spot with a sharp pain. But unlike his body, his chest had never felt lighter. It scared him.

Being burdened with that feeling had become the norm, yet he hadn't known any different. Perhaps this was the start of something new.

End Of Chapter. 1323 Words.