Finally, Logan is out of the house. Now I can get down to business. I crept in Logan's room, like I usually do, and thought where I should go first, the underwear drawer? Under the bed? Nightstand drawer? Nah. I know the perfect place.
I open his pajama drawer and lift up the bottom. His dream journal. I flip through already read pages about random dreams involving maple syrup and cheese, nightmares of waterbeds. I flip to the most recent page, last night. I begin reading.
I couldn't believe my eyes. Each word was sickly detailed and all the actions he was describing flooded my brain. I felt like I was going to vomit as my face flushed. My Logan was sexually dreaming of that Russian pervert. And not me! I shuddered reading the last part before it stopped.
"He popped his fingers out before roughly shoving his manhood in instead. My hoarse voice became even more hoarse as I screamed out in a pain mixed pleasure. I dug my nails into his back, he hissed in pain as he dug his face into the crook of my neck and shoulder. "Hey.. hey... don't cry.." he cooed softly into my ear. I didn't even notice the wet tears streaming down my face."
That was the last sentence that wasn't scribbled in French. I held a hand over my mouth, forcing the puke down. That Russian creep, showing up in Logan's dreams. What a manipulative person he is!
I scoffed, it was probably a one-time thing. Or a nightmare. Either way, it couldn't be he actually liked that smelly bastard! I WON'T let him do that to me! I WON'T let them be together! Logan is mine! And all mine! I calmed myself down. It's fine, it's fine, I kept telling myself. I'll just check somewhere else.
I shuddered once more remembering the disgusting detail in the entry. Ugh. I opened his closet door, there was the usual, all his clothes, neatly hung up. I gently brushed a piece of lint off of a plaid black and red lumberjack shirt, inhaling his sweet scent. I walked out and grabbed a stepladder. I looked on the top shelf. Looking and smiling at old family photos and toys. Then I noticed a box I hadn't before. I opened it to find a dildo, lube, a box of condoms, and a few other 'toys'. I smirked, not so innocent after all. I wiped the dust off of the box to find the label 'for me and Caleb'.
My face flushed red with anger I started having a panic attack. Everything seemed blurred as my breathing and heartbeat quickened. As I fell of the stepladder all I could see was his face. Him. Logan Remi Gagnon. I fell and landed on the floor with a loud thud, the box landing next to me, its contents spilling out. Loud footsteps stomped towards the room. I saw the confused face of the dark-haired russian he looked first at me, lying back down on the floor. Then to the box, on its side, the label clearly visible. He seemed even more confused as his gaze flashed to the contents of the box. He slowly started to piece it together.
He glared at me in confusion then picked me up by the collar of my shirt I winced, ready for him to hit or punch me. Instead, he just sighed and leaned closer to me. He whispered in my ear "I won't tell Logan this happened if you stop going through his room. That's right. I know. Now clean this up and get out!" He growled the last few words and barged out. How could Logan, MY, precious and beatiful Logan, actually like that asshat, and not me!? I grumbled before doing as he asked and going to my own room.
About an hour later, Logan came home. He asked Caleb (who was eating a bowl of macaroni and cheese while taking up the entire length of the couch) how things went. My breath hitched as I waited for his response, my ear pressed against the door. He swallowed before saying, "everything was fine, stop worrying so much!" I took a deep breath in, not realizing I forgot to. My secret was safe. At least, for now.
