Indirect Confession Pt. 1

It was obvious to say the least, but something was going on with Logan.

And it wasn't cute. I mean it was, Logan was cute all the time (and hot, it's a combination that aims to kill me I tell you). He could be a model honestly, but career-options and our unwillingness to follow them isn't what this is about. Usually, I'm able to have a read on Logan. One career he definitely shouldn't strive for is acting, because he absolutely sucked at it.

If he was happy, he had a boxy-grin, and his eyes sparkled like you had given him the moon. If he was sad, he would pout, lips puffing and shoulders slumping (like a sad puppy). If he was mad he would show his rare ticks, but he wasn't an aggressive person. More times than not he was an emotional person, letting the feelings of anger morph into frustration before he let it out in bulging tears. His voice would change too depending on his mood. Logan's normal voice was like butter, warm, melted butter. When he was excited it became higher-pitched, and it only ever changed again when he was sad (or aroused, but I'm not going to talk about that) where it would turn into this high, drawled out whine.

Basically, my point (and not my 300 page thesis paper on why I am in love with my best friend); having a read on Logan is simple.

But [emphasis on this], is not simple.

And I hated it.

It was stupidly obvious that he was avoiding me (why? I'm trying to figure that one out myself. Mind your business). If there was anything I hated more than my cowardness was being (in any way, shape, or form) apart from Logan. We hardly, if ever, were able to hang out this week. Well, except for that one morning where he stole my soul with a simple kiss.

On another note; was it possible to get that hard so quick? And, why had he done it? I'm not complaining (honest), but the action confused me.

Because, if I'm being honest, I wanted to do a lot more with Logan than just kiss him. (Don't @ me, it's hard to deny that not all best friends dream about making out with their best friend).

That's probably one of the main reasons why I hated this entire avoiding-Tripp-mission. Before moving into the 'dorm' I was determined to woo Logan (with my irresistible charm obviously), but now because of his sudden shift in behavior as well as the morning kiss I was more confused than anything. Because had he done it with some form of conscious thought? Or was it just a plo—

The question was shoved out of my mind immediately because , Logan would never do that. Watching his mom have countless affairs with other men behind his fathers back, then make it seem as though there was some hope for them to get back together made Logan absolutely hate games in relationships. It was endearing really, because that meant that whenever he was getting bored of a relationship he would pull them aside and tell them flat out that he was losing interest in them.

Most times the confession led to a slap, but other times it led to an indignant huff from the girls who thought they were too good for him anyways (big false). I huffed as I steered into the curb before turning off the engine.

A pause, and a tense second of silence, "We're here."

We practically slithered out of the car to get out of the tense air. Like most secret college parties, it didn't look like a secret. It was a large one-story house, the yard filled with cliche red plastic cups, and the music blaring unconventionally in everyone's ear. Luckily, it was dulled by the walls on the inside, making the idea of talking much more welcoming.

Just like the blaring music, and the overwhelming crowd, being here was also unconventional. Being anywhere with a Logan that looked just ready to run away from me was uncomfortable. But, it would help us get away from the apartment, and it would help us get the breath of fresh air that we both desperately needed.

And, besides, it would be rude of me to turn down an invitation from my classmate. It wasn't really. The classmate was David, a fraternity freshman that couldn't keep his eyes to himself. It was creepy honestly, because while I was trying to create a budding friendship with the guy, his body language towards me screamed 'fuck me'. And, as though I hadn't made it clear enough, I'm not interested in a quick fuck or relationships.

As if sensing my presence, David skipped over to me and Logan as we entered the largest area of the house. David was around my size, taller than Logan by a few inches and slimmer than me when it came to muscle mass. Logan noticed my classmate's enthusiastic skip and shielded himself from David, inching behind me.

The action made my chest puff with something similar to pride (because could he get any cuter?).

"Hi!" David chirped flirtatiously, gaze sultry as he stopped in front of me. The chipper tone didn't suit him, "I'm really glad you could make it Tripp—"

"Yeah," Quick and effective cut-off, for some reason he always made me suspicious of his words and actions. "Glad I could make it too, man. I hope you don't mind, I brought a friend along."

I shifted slightly to the side so that the bundle that was Logan became visible from his position behind me. David's eyes widened (I relate wholeheartedly) as he took in Logan.

"The more the merrier." He quipped, mouth parting as his body language changed again. "If you two are free we can—"

Another interruption, Logan really was perfect. "How do you two know each other?"

David pouted at the obvious rejection, something he should be used to thanks to yours truly. "We're classmates." He responded smoothly, not showing any signs of making additional advances towards either of us. "Hey, do you happen to know if Tripp's taken? If so, who's the lucky babe?"

Lord, give me strength to not strangle my classmate.

Logan sent him a (adorably) confused face. "Taken? No, Tripp isn't seeing anyone." My classmate whined at the response, his hands reaching upward to grip the sides of his head in faux pain. "At least I hope he's not."

My head snapped towards Logan after hearing the whispered words. His head was bowed, eyes flickering towards the ground. Was that my imagination? I looked over towards David, wanting to see if he too heard the words that were capable of tilting my world on its head, but he was still making a spectacle of his rejection. My eyes followed Logan as he excused himself from us, muttering something about getting us drinks. As he walked, I couldn't help but hope that it wasn't my imagination.

꒰꒱꒰

For the hundredth time in the last hour, my eyes flickered towards the digital clock sitting comfortably in front of the counter next to the TV. It was late. Even when the avoiding-Tripp-mission was still very much an ongoing thing (cue: crying track), it was too late. That realization made a ball of anxiety twist in my gut. I sprang up from the couch as the door opened, eyes wide as Logan slammed the door behind him, clearly distressed. He leaned back against it, a clear sheen of sweat damping his forehead.

"Logan, what happened?" I made my way over to him, grasping his shoulders softly as I studied his form. My eyes swung over his form, narrowing at the cut that stretched on the corner of his mouth. "Who did that to you?"

Logan scoffed, shoulders shrugging me off as he pushed past me. I was quick though (speedy, really), before he got too far I grabbed one of his wrists, pulling him back.

"What did you do?"

An unexpected jolt, "Why do you care!?"

He snapped at me, my grip loosened and he took that opportunity to yank his wrist from my hold, skittering to his room. That was beyond odd. I blinked, snapping myself out of my shock. It was rare for Logan to raise his voice at anyone, especially me, but I guess there's a first time for everything. Not really thinking about it (although I really wanted to slam the door down to demand what was going on), I made my way to the guest bathroom to retrieve the First Aid Kit before heading over to Logan's bedroom door.

I knocked on the door softly, "Open the door, baby."

There wasn't any hesitation as the lock from the door clicked, effectively opening the door for me. I pushed against it, taking in Logan's (grumpy) form on his bed. Honestly, I don't even know why I allowed Logan to claim the second main room, I could have remodeled it into a gym so that there was only one room to share.

I thanked Logan softly as I sat on the edge of the bed, placing the kit next to him. He didn't move, head resting against the headboard as he sighed heavily. There was a frown tugging at his lips and before he could do anything against me (once more) I shifted our positions, straddling his hips.

Logan's eyes fluttered open, widening when he noticed me on top of him (wink wink).

He stuttered, "W-What are y-"

I cut him off by gripping his face, forcing him to look at me. "What happened?"

He refused to look at me as he responded, "Nothin,"

I leaned back, opening the kit with my free hand and retrieving an antiseptic wipe, folding it with my finger as I pressed it against the corner of his lip. Logan flinched beneath me, "This isn't nothing. Did you get in a fight?"

An adorable nose scrunch, "If you consider self-defense fighting, yeah." Finally, he had relaxed enough to be himself again, leaning into my touch. "I don't think it'll happen again."

There was a want to demand more answers from Logan, but the fear of him shutting down on me again won over, so I didn't push it. "It better not."

"Tripp," He whispered, my heart clenched at the sound because it sounded as though he was in pain. "Why do you care?"

Why wouldn't I care seemed like the incorrect answer no matter how I looked at it. So, I sighed above him, shifting as the familiar tinge of soreness settled into my calves. "Logan, I care about you. I would never, I don't ever want to see you get hurt."

Logan bit down on his bottom lip, wincing when the action made his cut shift sorely. He called my name again as I pressed my hands against his cheeks, caressing his face with my thumbs.

A hum in acknowledgement later, "Is there someone you like?"

"More than you?" I teased, bumping our noses. "Never."

That earned me a rightful elbow shove against my chest. But it also earned me a chuckle, something I hadn't heard in over a week, "I'm serious."

A voice in the back of my head whispered, pushing the thought to the front. I nodded, "Yeah, there is someone I like."

"How much would you say you like them?"

I did say that one thing I liked about Logan was his spontaneity. "I guess I would have to say that I loved them."

That, apparently, was the wrong thing to say. Because Logan thrashed beneath me once the words left my lips, sniffling loudly. I gripped his wrists softly, ensuring that he wouldn't do what he usually does in these situations (a.k.a. Dig his nails into every reachable body part).

"What's wrong Logan?" I changed our positions, switching them effectively so that he was on my lap.

Without any question, he scooted into my chest, nuzzling into my neck. With a whimper he answered, "It hurts."

I cradled his head, "What hurts?"

Logan's arms wrapped around my neck and a choked sob left his throat. He pulled back, right hand patting his chest before he responded, "Everything."