Plan Of Seduction

30. Epilogue

     "Yeah, like the last three times where she bribed you with a new phone, a week-long trip to Canada, and oh! How could I forget the lingerie pack that isn't even out yet." Although there's no complaints on any of them, not really (and definitely not on the last one, since Logan wanted to try something that would "spice" up our evening), they all work to serve my point, something that I have (admittedly) gotten better at doing.

     Putting his fingers up like he has some sort of defense, Logan shakes his head. "In my defense-" Called it. "I needed a new phone, a trip to Canada, and lingerie. What? Are you telling me you didn't like any of those presents?"

     God, I want to kiss him just to shut him up. And I could (can), whatever, but the food is most important. Turning my attention back to said food, I pout, grasping for another argument. "I really don't know why you needed a new phone."

     "Babe," He sighs, easing his head back to look at the very interesting kitchen ceiling. "I broke the camera of my old phone, remember? I got the new one to send you nudes during courses."

     And really, how am I supposed to argue with that? Those photos were sent with purpose, and I loved them. Not being able to hold back anymore, I step in front of him quickly, dipping my head to press our lips together. Logan lets out a soft, sweet-filled sigh, returning the touch easily and chasing me until I remember the task-at-hand and reluctantly pull away.

     "What did she bribe you with?" I repeat when we pull away, and he sighs, finally giving in.

     "She has given me permission to give Kyle and Monroe the dorm house for their stay at the university, rather than struggle to find a dorm or apartment accommodation." The food is finished, so I quickly turn off the stove and move it aside in favor of standing between Logan's thighs. He accepts me instinctively, wrapping his legs around my waist, and combing one of his hands through my hair. Nothing has changed about me appearance wise, the only thing changing being a subtly grown stubble. Where before I had always deemed it necessary to shave, I decided to see how it would look growing out. And there haven't been any complaints from Logan who always finds a way to rub his skin across the prickles of hair.

     I snort against the skin of his neck because - "You know she would've done it anyways, right? Without having to hold something over your head?"

     "Yeah. But I feel bad asking for favors, and this makes it feel like a win-win situation." Logan reasons, cupping my face so that our eyes meet. "And besides, it's not like we have anything to do this week. We already verified our graduation date and planned for it, you shouldn't worry too much - that's my job."

     He does have a point, but I don't tell him that, instead wrapping my arms around his torso and falling back into his shoulder, inhaling the sweet smell that is purely Logan.

-

     There are times that I think about what would've happened if we had never moved here. If we had left our chances up to fate in the selection of dorm rooms, or if Logan hadn't been accepted into the university I got into. The memory of him coming into my highschool during a random lunch afternoon just to give me his acceptance papers never fails to send me into a wreck of fluttery emotions. He had never been one to shy away from our friendship, instead broadcasting it to all those who were around. Even now, as boyfriends and lovers, he doesn't hesitate to link our arms together, or kiss me in public, or tell me he loves me at any given second of the day (despite it making me cry at every given moment).

     And while that seems like something almost everyone could do, I know he struggled with himself and his father for a large part of it. We have both struggled, it all brings me back to the (my) actions the night of moving had made it almost painful to breathe for the following weeks, and I regretted my very existence. I suppose that's common with life; the regret of actions that can;t be taken back. What if we hadn't made-out? Or: What if I had come out as gay instead of bi? Or: What if I had told him that one time that the person I loved was him instead of making it this big, great mystery to have him open up to me?

     All these questions, all of these possibilities, have regret in them.

     People will say that there was another way to go about it, the right way, but I don't think such a way exists. Everyone's opinions work to cloud the result of the actions for the belief that something better could have been achieved if different measures (actions) were taken. But I don't think that is the case. I think that everything that occurred, has all worked to lead us up to this point. And that the result of me and Logan being together is the best outcome, there isn't anything better that could have come of it.

     Logan and I are graduating together, and even when we have been stuck at the hip far before college, I don't think I can imagine a day without him by my side. He seems to feel the same way, leaning closer to whisper, "You need to stop looking at me like I'm your world and look at the cameras, babe. Your mom wants to see at least one decent picture of us enjoying the celebration."

     "Impossible." I argue with a grin, not tearing my face from his. "You are my world." His cheeks turn a pretty pink at the blunt statement and he smacks my shoulder in an attempt to hide his embarrassment. "And besides, we always look decent."

     "I guess you're right." He mumbles weakly, linking our arms together. A second passes before he turns to look at me again, eyes swarming with pure fondness. It makes my heart do this weird (annoying, quite frankly) thing where it speeds up. Yup, that hasn't changed at all in the past 3 and-a-half years. "Thank you, Tripp."

     "For what?"

     "For being with me, for being you, for loving me, and letting me draw on your skin too." He lists off quickly, averting his gaze when he finishes. I grip his arm tighter, only vaguely paying attention to my surroundings enough to know what is going on but not looking away from him.

     "I deserve you, Logan." I whisper, after identifying the flicker of doubt that twinkled in his eyes. Logan let's out a long sigh at the words, turning to smile as a flash of a camera flashes across his face. After the last therapy session, Logan had become more stable mentally, the case with Kai and Logan's father seemed to be more of a case of closure for Logan. His doubts were reasoned, and ceased, and he worked with himself to stop caring about the opinion of someone who didn't care about him.

     I had my doubts as well. Voices of guilt that would torture me into thinking that I wasn't enough for Logan. They were quickly thrown out the window (adios, losers) with Logan's sweet words, and soft touches, and reaffirmations that it was me he wanted.

     "And I deserve you, Tripp." He says with a grin, and tears brimming the rim of his eyes.

     And really, we're the only ones that need to know that, no outside opinion needed.

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I actually really struggled with an epilogue for them, I don't know why specifically, but all I knew was that I definitely wanted to end this in Tripps POV. This story was an Angst filled-one with more Fluff than anything, but I hope you all enjoyed it. I know I did, and oddly enough, it served more for personal self-discovery than I realized.

Thank u for ur patience, and support, plz give me ur thoughts. (Special thanks to @rose_red_fire for their support). Don't hesitate to reach out if u need someone to talk to. I hope to see u in my other works! (except CYBMPC, burn it off ur list).

<3