Maybe It's Fate

If there was a way to stop time and rewind it, now would be the perfect time to take it. Because at this moment the only thing I wanted to do (I mean, I've wanted to for a while let me be honest) was slap myself. As Logan's pillow soft lips met mine, his hesitation rolled off of him in waves. I forced myself to push away the shock (because since when had he-? Liked me? Was that what this was?), and grasp the back of his neck, soothing his hesitation as our lips moved against each other.

Watching him while kissing would be admittedly weird (read: creepy), so I waited until his eyes fluttered shut, sinking deeper into our movements before closing mine. Our movements were slow, sensual, there was no rushing it and tingles shot up my spine as he relaxed further against me, his hands traveling to the back of my neck to play with the hair on my nape. We pressed closer and his hands reached up, patting and brushing my curls.

The action made me smile as I pulled away, because the action, despite being intimate, was an action I asked of him whenever I was down in the dumps. Most times I had to push for it, literally tearing his hands away from his phone and placing them on my head for him to get the message. God, despite being scared out of his mind, Logan was trying to comfort me (could he be any more perfect?).

A shaky sigh left Logan as he opened his eyes slowly, slumping on my lap. He refused to look at me, his eyes zeroing in on my chest. I reached out towards him, caressing the side of his chin with my knuckles and coaxing him to look at me. There was another second of hesitation before he finally swung his eyes to meet mine.

There was a furrow at the top of the bridge of his nose and the usual brightness that enveloped his iris' had dimmed. He blinked and tears gathered on his waterline, decorating his eyelashes. "I—"

"I really like you Tripp!" He blurted out, once more interrupting me. "Like, as more than a friend."

A pitiful whine, then another second of un-meeting gazes. "Really?" I teased, trying to ease his fear. "You sure you don't go around kissing all your other friends?- Ow!"

In all honesty, I deserved that half-shove, half-punch, but it was all worth seeing his shoulders sag in relief (it was also worth the pout he graced me with). I sent him an exaggerated frown, rubbing the area where he had pushed against me. "This is abuse, Logan. What am I going to tell my mom when she asks about the bruise?

"That you're being an ass." Logan huffed, pout unmoving and hands crossed over his chest.

"Oh? Really?" His eyes narrowed, looking at me from the corner of his eyes as though he knew I was planning something (maybe he did, I wouldn't be surprised). "Clearly, a very charming ass if you like m-"

"Oh my god!" Logan screeched before I could finish my sentence. "No, I don't. Not anymore." Another shove. "Shut up."

I pouted, "That sucks, I like you as more than a friend too."

That was a lot easier than I would like to admit, good job Tripp, finally getting some courage.

"I — what?" The fear that was there before came back full force, making my eyebrows furrow in confusion because- wasn't this a good thing? The air became tense again, Logan stiffening on my thighs and as he surged back to get off me, I reached forward to grip his waist, effectively holding him close.

"Let me go!" I tightened my hold, using my other hand to grip the back of his head, pressing our foreheads together.

"Logan, calm down, what is it?" Labored breathing escaped him, coming out in rough pants. "Baby. Logan. Follow what I do and breathe."

There were often times I considered myself a perfect demonstrator (and this was one of them), so as I inhaled and exhaled deeply (and frankly, quite exaggeratedly) Logan easily followed, slowing his breath until he had calmed once more.

"That's it." I praised. "Now what's wrong, baby?"

Logan whined against my forehead, pulling back to rub at his eyes. "You c-can't like m-me -li-like tha-t."

This shit was confusing. But (luckily), I knew Logan. And I knew there was always a reason behind his doubts. Like how he has an absolute fear of chickens because they are related to ducks, and ducks 'are vicious creatures personally spawned from Satan', apparently.

"Okay, and why not?"

"Because—!" He exclaimed, shifting on my lap as he leaned back abruptly. "I'll hurt you, like I hurt everyone else. And - And because we're best friends!" He added, as though that would be of any importance (it is, but that's besides the point).

"And," Logan continued. ". . . you also said that you liked someone, right? I don't want to get in between that, I also don't want to put our friendship on the line. Th-That's why I don't. . . m'don't wanna lose you."

The last half of his sentence was slurred as he sniffled, eyes tearing up again at the thought (I was kind of tearing up too, on my end).

"Look at me Logan," His eyes snapped up. "First off, you won't hurt me. You haven't in the past four years, and you never will. Secondly, I did say that I like someone, and I just told you that I liked you as more than a friend, so, who do you think I like?"

"Don't tease me." He whined with a shake of his head and I couldn't help the grin that parted my lips.

"No teasing, baby. I mean it." I pushed back the strands of hair that fell into his face. "I like you as more than a friend, you're the person I have a crush on. It's all you, Logan. That's why I don't hate it when you rely on me, because I want you to. I don't know how else to say it.

Logan's hands landed over my mouth, effectively (shutting me up) stopping my award-winning love confession. He exhaled shakily, "I hate you - so much Tripp."

More confusion because, once more, wasn't this a good thing?

"Why did you have to say that? What if," A little quieter, just above a whisper. "What if we mess up our friendship?"

"But what if we don't?"

"You don't know that," I bumped his nose with my finger.

"And neither do you. So, why don't we give it a shot?" He bit down on his bottom lip, hesitation and worry filling his gaze. I left my face lax, not making any expression that would push him over the edge. After a while, he sent me a short nod, falling into my open arms and pressing his nose against my shoulder. There was more silence but there was no rush, this wasn't a rushing matter. And just before Logan's breath evened out, and before his body relaxed fully against mine, he whispered more firmly;

"I want to try it out, please."

And God, for some cliche, overused movie reason, that had me believing in fate.

꒰꒱꒰

As the night left, Logan shifted against me, slowly tugging me out of my sleep. Unsurprisingly, we had slept through the night. Logan (probably) tired from his overwhelming confession, and me just being tired from life in general.

An exhale tickled my neck, his lips moving against my skin. "Tripp."

When had he stopped calling me babe? I missed that. I hummed, it was too early for any sort of concrete conversation (despite it being like 11 in the morning).

"I'm hungry." God, when aren't you hungry Logan?

I huffed out a laugh. "Yeah? What do you want for breakfast?"

Logan's arms tightened around my waist. "Nothing. I'm comfortable, let me starve"

"As tempting as that sounds," A groan as Logan pokes my ribs harshly. "I'd rather you not die on me yet."

He snorts, "Yet?"

"Yeah, have to get a date out of you first. Maybe another kiss."

"And then I can die?"

I hummed before answering. "Maybe, depends on how good the kiss is."

Logan let out a laugh, still unmoving against me "Excuse you, I'm a great kisser."

"Wouldn't know about that baby."

He let out a sound in mock offense, "I literally kissed you yesterday."

"Did you? I can't seem to remember. Why don't you remind me?"

"As tempting as that sounds," He teased back, pulling back to look at me. "I'd rather eat your specialty pancakes."

The whole conversation has me on edge, butterflies swarming at every teasing jab we throw at each other. Because nothing has changed, we've gone back to before the hesitation and the avoid-Tripp (like a plague) mission. But somehow this is different, because we're more comfortable now. There's no longer any hesitation when it comes to each other. Everything is out in the open now (well, almost everything).

"Blueberry or chocolate?" I ask, shifting to sit up.

He grins at me from his new position, eyes shining beautifully. "Chocolate, please."

"Coming right up, captain."