13 | Tumble-dry

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A D R I A N

I stomped back into his room, slamming the door hard enough to rattle the door jamb.

I stink?!

That's rich. Especially coming from a person whose pillow smelled like it was soaked in fucking gasoline! But that didn't stop you from sniffing it up, my inner demon mocked. Fuck. I hated how real he gets sometimes.

I looked around the room to look for a laundry hamper and found it tossed carelessly beside the wardrobe. The checkered hamper was threadbare with fraying edges and it looked like it wouldn't survive if it was to carry that load of dirty clothes down to the launderette.

And he still dared to call me lacking, I sulked as I searched his wardrobe for anything that looked remotely sturdy. I found a duffel bag on top of the wardrobe and stood on my toes to reach for it. The bag sent up a cloud of dust immediately when I yanked it down a little too hard and I fell on my butt. The shock made me gasp and the dust particles invaded my nostrils.

Logan must have heard the noise since he popped his head in and saw me splayed on the floor. Instead of helping me up, he smirked and left me sneezing uncontrollably. I kicked the duffel bag away and got up to my feet, my hand rubbing at my sore bum.

Fuming, I trudged to his bed and pulled at the sheets so hard I heard a ripping sound before throwing it to the floor. My 'Hollywood' shoe prints were left unnoticed by the owner of the sheets lying on the ground.

My jaw ticked at the unsuccessful attempt to rile him up. One day. I'll get him one day.

I did the same with his pillow and balled it up together with the bed sheets before shoving them into the bag. The mountain of clothes laid waiting on the chair beckoned me to come and get them with a slight stench wafting through. I'm ready for a trip to space just to get away from the smell.

I shuddered with disgust when I used my thumb and index finger to pick up a boxers sitting on the throne of the mountain. A variety of khakis, jeans and white tees made up the the rest of the mountain like desecrated bodies.

Ugh.

Steeling myself, I delved my hand into the pile and grabbed a handful of clothes. I quickly filled up the bag and zipped it shut to prevent any smell from escaping.

"Took you long enough," Logan tore his eyes away from the TV screen when he heard me shuffling out. I grimaced when his barb poked at a tender spot. You can always count on him to find faults in everything I do.

His gaze dropped to the duffel bag in my grip. "Good to go?" he asked. My lips pulled in a tight smile and gritted out a reply.

"Ready to tumble, master."

My feet tapped in rhythm as I was waiting on the bench across the row of washing machines. The one in front of me was whirring as Logan's clothes tumbled in it. It started to jostle violently as it gave a last spin.

Logan went back to his workshop to take the keys from Eccentric Bones when he'd received a call from him. Well, not before he gave specific instructions on how to use the machines. Fuck. I wasn't that clueless.

The launderette was almost deserted, saved for me and an older lady waiting for our laundry to be done. The machine beeped twice, indicating the load was ready for the dryer.

Dragging my feet across the concrete floor, I pulled at the door and unloaded it into the bag before dragging it to the dryer. As I was depositing the load into the dryer, Logan returned with a lit cigarette between his lips. Classic Logan.

"How much longer?" he asked while nodding his head at the older lady in acknowledgement. They were probably neighbours.

I glanced at the screen and said, "Ten minutes more."

He grunted and slumped on the bench, his right knee bent over his left one. I leaned against the dryer, the vibration felt nice against my back.

We stayed in silence the whole time, him puffing on his cigarette while I vibrated along with the dryer. Ten minutes had passed and I straightened myself as Logan came striding towards me. He gently nudged me to the side and started shoving the dry laundry back into the duffel bag.

"Let's go," he ordered as he pushed the bag back into my arms. I stumbled a little before following him out of the launderette. Much to my surprise, we took a left turn and walked down the streets instead of returning to his apartment. I looked around the scenery before me as Logan continued his way down before stopping in front of a pizza parlour at the intersection. The flickering neon sign read 'Average Joe's Pizza'.

The door chimed as he pushed open the glass door and the smell of Italian herbs and pepperoni immediately activated my taste buds. My mouth watered and stomach grumbled in an instant.

We occupied a corner booth, slightly isolated from the rest of the seats. The owner, I assumed, slapped Logan's back in greetings as they both shook hands. Logan was all big smiles as they asked about each other. A genuine smile ready for anyone but me. All I got was a smirk if I'm lucky, I mused.

The owner retreated back into the kitchen after he took the order, insisting it's on the house after a battle of words with Logan. I sat awkwardly across him as Logan shook his head in defeat. The awkwardness intensified as we sat in silence staring at each other.

Unable to stand it any longer, Logan cleared his throat and asked, "How old are you again?"

I furrowed my brows. "Almost seventeen."

He gave a silent chuckle. "Yeah, that's exactly what a five-year-old will answer."

I glared at him and was about to bite his head off if I wasn't interrupted by the waitress placing two pans of pizza between us. The melting cheese and greasy pepperoni were more than enough to make me swallow my retort along with the saliva pooling in my mouth.

"Dig in," he urged as he pushed one of the pans towards me. Feeling unabashed, I held up a slice of the piping hot pizza and took a bite. I didn't care if it burned the roof of my mouth as I moaned at the burst of flavour. Average Joe's pizza wasn't average at all.

"Good, huh?" Logan asked. I nodded my head, something we both agreed for the first time. He smiled and resumed eating. Silence filled in again, but this time, there wasn't a hint of awkwardness.

We both burped unceremoniously after we inhaled both pizzas in record time. Logan got up and went to the kitchen, probably to thank the owner for the free food. He returned with a takeout bag and motioned for us to leave.

The Saturday sky had darkened considerably, as if God had tucked Earth in with a blanket. Logan led the way as I followed him back to his apartment. A familiar scene. I wondered when I'll be able to walk by his side.

Logan stopped me before the elevator when we reached the building. "Go home now," he ordered. I nodded slowly, slightly disappointed that our time had ended.

He took the duffel bag off my hands, replacing it with the takeout bag before he stepped into the elevator. "Good night, Adrian," he bade with a grin as he pressed the button. The doors slid shut, cutting off my vision of this mysterious man who had caught my fancy.

"Good night, Logan," I whispered back.

❄❄❄

Author's notes

I know this chapter is supposed to be Adrian's and Kelly's Macbeth play but I realized it didn't connect to the previous chapter so I wrote this one quickly to make up for it >.<

Since it's Christmas, even if it wasn't Christmas themed, I still wanted to make this chapter lighthearted. Hope you enjoyed this as well.

PS: Logan's laundry wasn't that disgusting. Adrian's just exaggerating.😅

🎄Merry Christmas, everyone!🎄

{Song: Astronaut by Sir Sly}

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