Invisible String

Chapter 23 -Here we go again

"You little fucker!" I scream, wriggling under him, desperate to escape his devilish hands.

But Logan only laughs harder, relentless in his tickle attack. "Are you going to say it now?" he asks, pausing for a brief second to give me a chance to reply.

"No!" I scream, my laughter mixing with protest. Despite hating to be tickled, I refuse to cave in to him.

I repeat this mantra to myself multiple times, trying desperately not to pee my pants with laughter.

And then he starts tickling me again.

I laugh so hard that my cheeks hurt, and for a fleeting moment, I consider ripping the skin off my face just to make it stop. But then I remember something important: pride can be a toxic thing, especially when you have too much of it. And in that moment, I realize I have a lot.

As I laugh, tears start to stream down my face, blurring my vision. The absurdity of the situation strikes me.

"Now?" he repeats.

"Fine!"

"Let's hear it then," he says, climbing off of me and allowing me to sit down. I take a few deep breaths, allowing my muscles to relax after the torture I just endured.

"I'm..." I start, still out of breath.

"Keep going," he says, anticipation evident in his voice.

"I'm only interested in getting the hell out of here!" I scream, hurling a pillow at Logan's face before sprinting out of the room as if my life depends on it.

"Cheater!" I hear his footsteps behind me, urging me to run faster.

"You can't catch me!" I laugh, slamming the door to my room shut and locking it behind me.

Ah! Finally! No more tickling!

I dance around the room, feeling victorious and relieved to have escaped the tickle torture.

With the adrenaline still coursing through my veins, I lean against the door, catching my breath. The sound of Logan's laughter echoes from the other side. I can't help but grin, relishing in the sweet taste of triumph.

After a few moments, there's a soft knock on the door. "Hey, are you done gloating in there?" Logan's voice comes through, tinged with playful exasperation.

I chuckle, still not opening the door. "Yeah, I guess you can say that."

"Well played."

"I'm going to take a shower, but how about some breakfast for the winner, huh?" I suggest.

"Sounds like a plan. But don't expect me to go easy on you next time."

"Sore loser!" I call back.

As I make my way to the bathroom, Logan's laughter echoes in my ears. 

"What a morning," I murmur to myself, a smile tugging at the corners of my lips.

With a chuckle, I step into the bathroom, ready to enjoy a well-deserved shower and indulge in the simple pleasures of a well-won breakfast.

As I take my seat at the table, I gaze upon the breakfast spread that Logan has prepared for us. The table is adorned with a colorful array of dishes: fluffy pancakes piled high, golden and glistening with syrup; crispy bacon arranged in a neat stack; and a bowl of fresh fruit, bursting with vibrant colors and enticing aromas. The sight alone is enough to make my mouth water in anticipation.

"Wow, Logan, this looks amazing!" I exclaim, genuinely impressed.

"Thanks. I figured we deserved a treat after our epic battle."

"You've outdone yourself. I might have to make you my private chef forever."

Logan's eyes widen in mock horror. "Oh no, I've created a monster," he teases, a playful grin spreading across his face.

I laugh, reaching for a pancake. "Hey, if you keep cooking like this, I'll never leave."

"Oh, I see. Well, I guess I'll have to start cooking a little... poorly then." he jokes, his tone light and playful.

"You wouldn't dare, you'd miss my sparkling personality too much."

Logan raises an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips. "Ah yes, because who else would I banter with over breakfast?"

"Exactly!" I reply, reaching for another pancake. "You know you can't resist my charm."

"Well, I suppose you do bring a certain... entertainment value to the table."

I gasp dramatically, placing a hand over my heart. "Just 'entertainment value'? I'm hurt, Logan. Truly hurt."

"Oh, stop fishing for compliments. You know I couldn't survive breakfast without you."

"That's more like it. Now pass the syrup, will you?"

Before Logan can answer, the sound of the doorbell ringing interrupts our conversation.

"Are you expecting someone?" Logan asks me, a hint of confusion in his voice.

I shake my head, my curiosity piqued as I watch him get up from his seat to answer the door.

What the fuck?