Logan woke to the sound of the rain beating against the window, his eyes adjusting quickly to the obscure greyness he could see through the curtains. Rory was still snuggled up against him, her hands on his chest and knees curled up. He glanced at the time, trying not to wake her - 11.45 AM. His eyes travelled across the room noting the old poster still hung up on the wall, listing their discussion points and reminding him of the painfulness of the evening, which had gone very differently than he'd imagined. In many ways it would have been easier to stay in their bubble, not knowing everything that had gone on in those years in between, but he understood that if they were ever going to make this work for real, that information had been vital. More than anything he wished he could travel back in time somehow, to do things differently when he proposed, saving them both a lot of heartache, saving her from all that. He wondered how Rory's past relationships would affect what they had now, whether it would influence whatever they decided to do. Rory had said she loved and trusted Logan, and he believed her. He also knew he'd placed her in a number of difficult positions in the past, last night included, now knowing what he knew, pushing her in any way was the last thing he should do when it came to working out their potential future. Still, what he wanted to do, without repeating past mistakes, was to assure her he was not going to leave her again. He was just about to think of possible scenarios that he could do to be with her, the practical kind, when Rory began to stir.
She rolled to her back, stretching her back and arms out, opening her eyes.
"Good morning," he greeted, trying to start the morning on a positive note. He needed a break from all the seriousness.
"Morning," Rory replied. "What time is it?" she inquired.
"Almost noon," he replied.
"Wow, now I feel like we've missed most of the day," she said, recalling disturbingly that her plane was leaving in almost 24 hours.
"The weather sort of screwed up my plans anyways," he said, getting ready to get up from the bed. While he would've gladly stayed with her in bed, just holding her, he needed to distance himself from the heavyness of last night's conversation, at least for a while.
"Sorry about that," she said, sitting up in bed, her legs crossed.
"Don't be, not your fault," he said, taking a deep breath before continuing. "Listen," he turned around just as he'd reached the bedroom door, adding, "Rory, correct me if I am wrong but I feel that we both want to be together. So maybe, me saying this will just skip us a long, harder than it should be, conversation. I think that if the only thing we figure out today is whether we do want to try to make us work, that alone would be plenty for me. The rest are just the details, and those we can work on in time, long distance if we have to. Just the load of information was heavy yesterday, I am still processing myself. But I do meant what I said about that not changing how I feel about you. I just think I'd like to actually spend some time without today - just being, not necessarily going over analyzing every detail of our past or our present emotions. So please, can you just think about this while I go shower and make us some breakfast."
Rory was stunned by that little speech, having not quite expected him to simplify everything that was aready going on in her head, fearing her immindent departure in less than 24 hours. She knew what he meant - the evening hadn't been easy, not for the speaker or the listener. But it had to be done. And now, despite wanting to figure everything out, she found it very hard to disagree with what Logan had just said. She did want to be with him. And truthfully, the world didn't seem like such a big place as it had nearly a decade ago.
When Logan emerged from the bathroom, a towel around his waist, he was a little surprised to hear Rory in the kitchen. He quickly pulled on a pair of light sweatpants and a grey t-shirt, and joined her in the kitchen.
Rory was just getting ready to put coffeegrains in the moka pot when he got there, pausing at the sight of him, still in last night's clothing. Her eyes bloodshot, her face a little tired - still there in his kitchen, making him coffee, she was still the only person he wanted to see in front of him.
"Logan, I do agree," she said, facing him just has he was about to pass her on his way to the frige.
Logan halted, looked her in the eyes, contemplating whether that had now meant what he had been hoping to hear.
"I do want to be with you, and I can't argue with any of the things you just said. So fine, we don't put us through anything else we don't feel like today," Rory said, sensing he needed it to be spelled out for him.
Logan was at a loss for words, instead of struggling to come up with an adequate response he pulled her close by her waist crashing his lips onto hers, letting out a soft sob of relief mixed with gratitude from the bottom of his throat. She parted her lips at his request, allowing his tounge to explore him, kissing back, feeling for once like on stabile ground again.
As Rory materialized from the shower fifteen minutes later, Logan had prepared breakfast for them.
"So apparently, all we have this morning is cheese and crackers, oh and jam," he announced apologetically.
"The French would consider this a full meal-course," she chuckled. "I guess we should go do some grocery shopping today then or do you have other plans?" Rory asked.
"You know what, I think that's exactly what we're doing today," Logan replied smilingly. He wanted to do the most common, simple thing with her. This was no longer about showing her around town or making flashy gestures. He just wanted to feel what it would be once again like to live with her, to just be with her. "I'll cook for us today and we can stay in and watch movies or something for the rest of the day," he added.
"That sound wonderful, actually," she commented smilingly, biting into a piece of Brie.
It was still raining outside, when the two walked arms linked, Logan holding the large black umbrella, leaping over the puddles left by the rain. It was barely ten minutes walk to the Farmer's market where Logan had decided to take her first.
"Hey, Ace, how's your vegetable intake these days?" he asked looking at the vegetable section, while she walked a few steps ahead, the smell of fresh produce filling their nostrils.
"Significantly imporved. That's what happens when you hang around Paris too long instead of my mom," she laughed.
He smiled, picking out some aubergines and tomatoes along with a few palmfuls of arugula. At the next stall he bought fresh local apples, and at the next organic butter and eggs. Rory stood under the pop-up roof of another stall, trying to decide which type of fresh pasta she wanted.
"You decide what you want yet?" he asked as he joined her.
"Any suggestions?" she asked in return.
"I always love the Campanelle," he replied.
"Sure, lets get that," she agreed.
He ordered in German, quite fluently, to her surprise.
"I knew you spoke a little German, but I didn't quire realize you were that good," she stated.
"Well that wasn't particularily good, he barely understood me probably, but they appreciate the effort here," Logan smirked, "but I'm glad it's believable," he added.
They continued down the row of stalls, grabbing a few more items before continuing to a small corner shop to buy a few more regular staple itmes and a bottle of wine, before heading back. The rain had eased up a bit, but still there was little that was more appealing that just hiding out in the apartment for the day, just the two of them.
"So what are we watching?" Rory asked, getting comfortable in Logan's bed, just wearing her tanktop and panties, the blanket drawn over her bare legs.
"Let's say...you choose one and I'll choose the next one, deal?" Logan suggested.
"Alright...," she replied browsing the Netflix selection. "How about One Day - have you seen it? Or read it?" she asked.
"Read, not seen," Logan replied.
"Logan Huntzberger, you do surprise me," she commented, pushing 'play'.
"It's sort of part of my job description to know what sells," he noted, justifying himself.
"I'm sure it is, but I bet you liked it," she joked, snuggling next to him, his hand across the pillow supporting her back. The warmth of his body radiated into her, almost distractingly, as they settled into the ever so casual setting they'd once been so accustomed to.
It was almost an hour through the movie, when she spoke. "Do you think your parents are going to have a problem with me?" she asked hestiantly.
"Rory, we're not in our early 20s anymore. Mitchum may essentially be my boss, but his opinion has little effect on how I live my life anymore, if they don't like it, it's their loss," he replied, calmly.
"What about Honor? I sense that her opinon still matters a lot to you," Rory inquired further.
"I think all she wants is for me to be happy, I am already. She might be concerned or worried whether I might end up getting hurt again, but that's not something we can really plan. Nor do I want to," Logan replied.
"I don't want to hurt you. I can't hurt you again," she stated.
"I know you don't, neither do I," he assured.
"You really don't want to discuss how we'll make this work?" Rory asked, still feeling a little uncertain.
Logan sighed. He liked the broadness of their earlier decision, agreeing on the end goal and not the details. But he sensed that it wasn't quite enough for her. Rory was a planner after all, she needed schedules and plans.
"How about this," he began, pausing briefly. "I'm coming to New York in two weeks, I'll be in town for 3-4 days, I know it's not a lot, but I think the two weeks is just the right lenght of time for both of us to map out our options and willingness to alter our lives. I know I am willing, it's just the question of 'how' to do it in the best possible way. I know that probably it'll have to be a compromise, or one of us will have to take a bigger leap than the other, but so be it - life is about taking chances, isn't it?" he said. He would've been willing to do it himself if he had to, if that was what it took to be with her.
"Okay, two weeks," she sighed, accepting his answer. While that still held a certain amount of uncertainty, for now it was enough for her.
***
They skipped lunch, having replaced breakfast with lunch essentially, hence deciding for a larger dinner. While Logan cooked them some pasta with pesto and salad, Rory prepared, based on Logan's instructions, some aubergine bruscettas. The cheap Chenin Blanc they'd picked up at the corner store, was surprisingly crisp, relaxing them even further. It felt so comfortable being around each other, it hurt to think it hadn't been so in all those years. Being with her came effortlessly, the mind, body and soul connecting, almost as if on some subconscious level, many messages not needing to be spoken out loud.
After dinner, and half way through Logan's choice of movie "Good morning, Vietnam", she'd snuggled up even closer to him, her head resting on his chest and his arm wrapped around her back.
"Ace, I'm really happy that you stayed, that you gave us a chance," he whispered to her. That was an understatement, his heart wanting to burst with the sensation of her presence.
She looked up at him, smilingly. "I don't think I would've been able to leave if I wanted to. I still have no idea how I'm going to get on that plane tomorrow," she replied sensing the pain in her gut already.
"Well, I guess it's a little like the time I left to London for the first time," he recalled. "It's hard, but now we know we can survive things like that," he added.
"Two weeks," she repeated their agreement. She scooted herself upwards closer to his face, cupping it and brushing his stubble gently with her fingertips. His lips found hers, meeting them at a slow and inviting kiss, waking every cell in her body.
She lift her upper leg across his lap to straddle him, her hands on his neck and shoulders, continuing to kiss him. The bottom of her stomach was still like a swarm of unsettled butterflies, wanting to be let out. Her hands caressed her neck and shoulders, moving down his chest, while his stoked her thighs, grabbing on to them firmly. She could already sense his erection brush against her stomach, turning her on even more. His hands continued to devote their attention to her ass and thighs, wanting to pull her as close as possible, squeezing out all the air between them. She removed his shirt, leaving a trail of kisses on his chest, allowing his head to fall back and close his eyes momentarily still in disbelief that this was his reality now. The form of her hard nipples was clear even without removing her tanktop, and he gently bit at one of them through the fabric, making her gasp and the sensation. She rubbed herself against him through their clothing, teasing intensely both of them. Logan finally relented, unable to withstand it any longer. There was just something about her being in control that made him want her even more, and pushing down his pants he soon exposed himself. Rory scooted back a little, doing what he almost feared would drive him over the edge too soon. Her moist lips kissed gently the head of his arousal, licking lightly making him moan. Her mouth felt incredible, and it took just three-four delves into her mouth, before he had to stop her.
"Ace, stop, please," he said pulling her up to kiss her on the lips, tasting himself on her.
His fingers hastily pulled her panties aside, sensing the flood of moisture already at her center, only running a few fingers back and forth a couple of times, until she raised herself just above his member, slowly, appreciating every inch that entered her, she let out a whimper of pleasure. Instead of rushing it, they stared into each-other's eyes for a moment, as if reading each other's souls. It was Rory who moved first, slowly beginning to rock her body, beginning to resolve the deep ache within her. His lips rested at the side of her neck, breathing her in, as his mind was taken over by her movement. His one hand was wrapped around her narrow waist assisting her at the thrusts that made him lose sense of place. His other hand had moved under her tanktop, squeezing one of her breasts firmly, sensing the erect nipple in his palm. The plunges grew more rapid and deeper, her breathing deepening. Her hands held onto his arm and soulder feeling his muscles tense as he lifted her time and time again. Just as her body approached climax, she wrapped her arms around his neck. Her forehead rested on his, feeling each-other's breaths as she finally came, her panting growing shallow and her body jolting a the thrusts that followed. He moved his hips along now, burying himself as deep as he could in search for his own release, found soon after.
They stayed like that for a good few minutes, him still inside of her, their arms wrapped around each other tightly.
"I love you, Logan," she whispered into his ear. Logan was still at a loss for words, still recovering, but he kissed her shoulder once more, as if in assurance that everything was as it should be.
The night that followed was restless, not quite wanting to miss a second of their time, despite knowing that they ought to get some sleep. Their bodies rested interlinked, and got ever so easily caught up by a few more rounds of lovemaking, both of them just barely awake. It came so naturally, so instinctively, the intensity varying from a sleepy comforting release to an almost desparate pounding as if angry at the time they'd missed, leaving Rory a little sore in the morning.
Their goodbye at the airport was tearless, somehow more hopeful than dreading, even to their surprise. Even just the idea of his phone number in her phone and hers in his, felt comforting.
***
Rory's second workday back felt like a neverending round of meaningless motions, working on a piece on home schooling families in New York. The topic really didn't speak to her, but she did the best she could. She was just about to start leaving work that day, when a thick FedEX envelope arrived by courier. She hastily opened it, finding a letter inside.
"Ace, please open the rest of the package when you get home. Love Logan"
She rushed down to the subway, travelling just the few stops and hurried down the street, up to the fourth floor, forgetting her take-away she had ordered in advance from the Chinese place across the street. She'd been tempted to open the package several times along the way, but she trusted him, and had complied. Once inside her small one-bedroom apartment, she dropped her messenger bag and jacket to the floor, hastily pulling the package apart.
"Read this first," read the second note inside.
"Rory, when you open this I don't want you to panic. This is not a stupid joke, and ultimatum or anything in between. I've screwed this up so many times already that I just refuse to do that anymore. What it is, what it means, will be entirely up to you and in your own time. But at the very least it is a promise that I will never walk out on you, I will not give up on you. I love you. Logan."
She unwrapped the roll of bubble wrap to find a thin ring box. It wasn't overly flashy, not even velvety, and it didn't need to be. Inside was a small solitaire salt pepper diamond on a thin and minimalistic gold ring. Rory sank to her kitchen floor, the ring between her fingers. For once he had done everything right.
For the next two weeks they texted and called daily, however not once mentioning the ring itself. It was not that neither of them didn't want to, he'd promised not to push and he kept his word, Rory, on the other hand, needed it to be something she addressed face to face. It was Friday evening when Rory's doorbell rang.
"Yes?" she answered the buzzer.
"It's me, Ace," Logan replied.
She buzzed him in, nervously pacing at the door, waiting for him to climb up the stairs.
He ran the stairs perhaps a little faster than he had aimed, arriving slightly out of breath, wrapping his hands around her without a word, burrowing his nose in her neck, hugging her close. As he looked up to kiss her, his eyes landed on the line of boxes lining the hallway, a roll of tape resting on top of them.
"Is that...?" he began, looking at her, expectantly.
"I'm moving out, I put the place up for rent. I already have a co-worker lined up who wants it," she announced.
It was only then Logan felt her palm on his and the sense of cool metal on his skin. He looked down to see the ring on her finger. He didn't wait for her to say anything, instead just leaned in to kiss her soft lips. The kiss was feverish, burning, full of longing that had finally come to an end.
"And so where are you, or we..., moving exactly?" he asked, as the kiss parted and he began to analyze the situation, being practical like he was.
"I talked to my boss that my heart wasn't in it as much as I wanted it to be, and instead of letting me walk out the door he suggested I work freelance for them," she explained. "And that I can do from anywhere, until I figure out what else I want to do. So I guess I'm jumping with you. I'll travel with you, Hamburg, London...wherever," she said. "I would've done it even if I had to quit, just so you know," she added.
"You're amazing, Ace, you know that right?" he sighed.
"And Logan," she began. "This," she said, holing up her hand with the ring, "I do consider as an engagement ring, but on the condition that we don't rush with the wedding. It will happen, I promise you, but in time, okay?," she said with no doubt in her voice. He didn't have to ask her again and she didn't have to hear it.
"That's absolutely fine, Ace," he replied with a wide grin. "I love you," he added.