A/N: I have a feeling that you're all going to hate me by the end of this chapter >.> SirSpazzy introduced me to the song on the side. I think it fits this chapter quite well.
I got a text from Logan at about eight this morning. I woke up to the vibration of my phone inside my jean pockets, which lay crumpled on the floor, underneath the bed I'd fallen asleep in. When I'd turned over to see if my trick from last night was still there, I saw nothing but creased sheets and an open window. The sunlight was causing my eyes to squint as I searched the small room for any signs of the bloke.
It seemed like he'd beat me to waking up first and ditching. With a groan and a quick, lazy stretch, I stumbled out of bed and searched through my pockets for my mobile. I pulled my jeans and shirt on before opening the text message, which basically said that Logan wanted to talk to me and that it was pretty important.
I didn't really think much of it; shrugging and sliding my phone back into my jeans with a head that felt like lead and feet that clearly had absolutely no coordination, as I tried to make my way towards the hotel room's door.
The smell of smoke lingered in the air, making me feel nauseous. Which definitely was not helping my feet out. I drifted off course and ended up walking into a wall, momentarily leaning against it as I tried to make my body function normally and shake off the drag of sleep. A coffee would have been real nice about now.
Normally if it was an over-night stay in a hotel room, I'd take the opportunity to shower but I wasn't thinking straight this morning. The only thought my brain could hold was that I needed to get to Logan's house, cause Logan needed to talk to me. It was a good of an excuse as any to put a middle finger up to my work and spend the day with someone I actually liked, rather than strangers that just wanted a quick shag here and there.
I eventually made it outside, holding onto the door for support as the wind caused me to stammer backwards. Like I'd just walked into a tidal wave of freezing cold air and had to hold onto something for dear life. The great thing about it was that it woke me up. Better than a coffee, for sure - quicker, too.
I was lucky enough to catch a taxi before it pulled away from the curb, five minutes down from the hotel. Clambering in with a wave, muttering the directions just loud enough for the guy to hear. Since I was feeling like I was pretty much recovering from a hangover, I really would have preferred if I'd gotten the normal type of cab driver that never said a word to their customers.
But no. No, no, no. I had to get the one with the jolly tone and a smile brighter than a fucking fog light. Those one in a million type of drivers, that talk and talk and talk. A never ending drone of complete fucking horse shit. He went on and on about the weather, and his trip to Hawaii where it was beautiful and stress-free. Well fucking great! Cheers for rubbing it in my face, you fucking twat.
I leaned my head against the window, counting numbers in my head so that I didn't tear this guy a new one. How could one person, not to mention one that lived in England, be this goddamn happy in a morning? I kept my focus on seeing Logan. Counting down the minutes til I was at his house. I'd made this trip so many times that I knew the directions off by heart now. Just one last turn and I'd be there. One. Last. Turn.
Thank fucking God.
I literally couldn't have been any more enthusiastic jumping out of that taxi. I handed him the cash through the window and wasted no time in walking off as fast as my legs could take me. I made the ten minute walk down to Logan's doorstep in the space of a few minutes, eagerly waiting for him to open the door and let me in from the icy chill that seemed to favour my nose more than anything.
"Hey," he greeted as he stepped aside, welcoming me in. I beamed a smile back at him, rubbing my hands together to try and warm up. "That was quick. I swear, I only sent that text a few minutes ago." He joked, laughing softly.
"Wasn't really that far away," I offered as an explanation. He nodded and ushered me up the stairs towards his room. I found that we always felt more relaxed and comfortable around each other when we were in his room, rather than anywhere else in the house. I wasn't really sure why, but for me I think it was because it was all Logan. Logan's room, Logan's stuff. Just entirely Logan.
I couldn't restrain myself once the door was shut. I was immediately pressing myself up against him, crowding him by the door, hands running up and down his back and stealing his heat. Our lips were joined, not properly kissing but just sort of moving in a lazy rhythm. Logan let out a surprised gasp when I snook a bite, though, prompting his hands to push at my shoulders, giving him enough room to lean out of reach of my lips.
My brows crumpled in a mixture of confusion and disapproval.
"Before we do this..." he waved his finger between us both. "There's something I really need to talk to you about. I can't avoid it anymore." The seriousness of his expression and tone put together caused me to take a step back, watching him carefully.
"Okay...?" I'll admit his words had me slightly on the worried side, hesitant to hear what he had to say. He gestured a hand for me to sit down on his bed. I obliged, and he followed soon after, sitting beside me.
"This might be a little tough to wrap your head around," he began, taking a deep breath. "I haven't really known how to say it - never really planned to even tell you it, when I first called you. I never thought you'd actually stick around this long and be this...important to me."
I nodded for him to continue, since no words really came to mind and I just wanted him to get this over with and stop with the serious talk. Serious talk-plus-Logan wasn't something I found I liked.
"I..." he closed his eyes momentarily, gathering his thoughts, before reopening them. "I have a terminal illness. I have Cancer."
I felt my head slowly nodding, my eyes just staring straight through his, waiting for the punch line. But the punch line never came, and Logan's lips never curled into a smile. It was when I realised that Logan wasn't pulling a joke on me that I burst into laughter, shaking my head against the burn of tears I felt already building up at the corners of my eyes.
"What? Are you- you're crazy, right? Tell me you're crazy because you can't be serious right now, Logan, you can't be serious. That's just insane!" My voice slowly built up to an angry shout, standing up and putting some distance between me and the guy sitting on his bed. The guy that I thought I knew, that I thought I trusted and understood.
"Ash, I tried to tell you before. I really did! But every time, something always came up. I never wanted to hurt you-"
"Bullshit Logan! Don't fucking screw with me! You don't have...Cancer," I spat the word with disgust, one tear slowly burning a trail down my left cheek. "That's ridiculous. You can't." My voice broke on the last word. I turned away from embarrassment, facing his door and dragging a hand down my face, wiping away the tears.
"Ash,"
I spun back around to face him, wiping my nose with my sleeve. My whole body suddenly felt weak. If I held my hand up horizontally, I was sure that it would be trembling. I felt sick to the stomach. I just wished that that word would stop repeating itself inside my head.
Cancer. Cancer. Cancer.
"Why?" I breathed out in a shaky, quiet voice. Logan approached me, shaking his head. I don't think he knew what to say to me. I don't think there was anything he could have said that would have made the situation any better. But he still tried, except not with words. He pulled me for a hug, one hand curling around my neck whilst the other around my waist.
"I'm so sorry," he whispered by my ear. I didn't want to hear those words though. They made me angry. He was sorry for having an illness he didn't deserve. He was apologising to me for the fact that he was going to die. I fought the surge of anger that wanted me to push him away, not out of anger towards him. Not really out of anger towards anything. I was shocked, and my initial impulse when I felt like this was to push everyone away.
"I never wanted to hurt you," I could feel the moisture of his own tears against my cheek. I should have hugged him back, told him that everything was going to be okay and that I was there for him. I shouldn't have been so selfish. But I wasn't thinking straight. So instead I pushed him away. A hard shove to the chest. I couldn't even look him in the eye, so I kept my gaze on the floor.
"How long?" I managed to say. It was as if my throat was threatening to cave in. My voice came out hoarse and strained, almost.
"They never said,"
"So, what, you could just drop dead at any moment?" I hated how my voice sounded full of hatred. It wasn't aimed towards Logan, but towards this disease that was going to take him away from me. But Logan wasn't inside my head, so it probably seemed like I blamed him.
"I don't know."
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath to calm myself down. My eyes were starting to sting with fresh tears. I didn't even bother to try and hold them back.
"Ash, please,"
"Please what, Logan?" I interrupted, eyes jumping to meet his with a blurred vision. I couldn't tell what expression he held on his face. It was like my eyes were in their own little word that was dark, filled with a constant down-pour of rain that clouded my sight. I didn't see an end to the rain, didn't ever think it was going to stop.
"What do you want me to say - hope you've had a nice life? Great to make your acquaintance? Or how about: hey, let us know what heaven's like when you get there!"
I heard him sniffle and saw his head lower, as a brief hand came up to wipe at his cheek.
"Tell me what you wanna hear. Cause I, for the life of me, can't think of what to say." My voice lowered to a broken whisper. "What do you want me to say?" I felt myself falling apart, just wanting to huddle my knees against my chest and not think, or do. I didn't even want to be anymore. Logan's words had just made me want to disappear. To not feel anything and be numb.
"I don't know." He repeated in the same shaky tone as before. "I didn't think you'd stick around. This was never supposed to happen, Ash. You were never supposed to care this much. I didn't ever want to tell you. I never thought I'd have to."
"Well you did, and you have. So now what?" I wiped my nose and eyes again, but it was a wasted effort. Logan shrugged, sitting back down on the edge of his bed in defeat. I watched him for a few seconds, but the longer I stared at him the harder his words hit me. I started imaging him gone. No longer able to just turn up at his house and he'd be there, hot chocolates in hand a smile on his lips.
He'd just be gone.
I wouldn't be able to hear his voice or run my fingers through his hair. There'd be no more late night phone calls. The thought was terrifying. I couldn't even stand to look at him, because looking at him made it all the more real. I didn't want it to feel real. I didn't want to face it. So I did the most selfish thing I could have done at that moment, and I ran.
I ran from the problem, just like I always did. Because I was goddamn fucking coward. I didn't hear Logan follow me as I raced down the stairs and out the door. Not pausing to look back as I continued down the path. The icy chill no longer seemed a bad thing, it was more comforting now. Soothing, in a way. Taking my mind off the pain that I felt inside. I let my mind linger on how cold I was, but it wasn't enough.
I ran all the way to the pier, slowing down to a jog as I clambered down the steps and onto the beach, stripping myself of my jacket as I went. For a few minutes, I just stared at the ocean. Listened to the waves. I contemplated for a while just diving into the freezing water, letting it engulf me and focusing my mind on the physical pain I would be feeling, rather than the emotional.
Instead, my knees buckled in on me and I just knelt there, in the sand. My jacket clutched in my fist, by my side, and my head hung low. I closed my eyes and tried to think of anything but a day without Logan being here. But my mind seemed to be hell-bent on making sure that I didn't forget, not for even a second, what Logan had said. The world just seemed a whole lot darker without him. Pointless.
I didn't want him to leave. I didn't want him to die.