[ Yeah. Yeah, he was on one of his drives. Karen's not accusing him of anything, he knows that, but he hears the good guy sticks around echo in the back of his mind. When he's with her, he does want to stick around. He wants to be the one she can depend on, the one she knows she can come to if she needs him. That's not the problem. Just...it feels like what he wants and what ends up happening never lines up. What makes him think it'll be different this time? (What makes him think there's even a this time happening in the first place?)
But she keeps going, murmurs Next time I will. Logan takes the damp rag from her hands where she's been wiping up the spilled whiskey. Their fingers brush. He nods. Okay.
Exhaling, he sits back and rests an arm on his knee. ] I'm gonna need to come back for that cupboard.
[ At least the glass is cleaned up. She kept looking at that bottle, though, and it's only now that he finally recognizes where it's from. He'd figured it was expensive, that that's all it was, but when he sets the trash can back in its corner, the gold and blue label jogs his memory. The one they shared, yeah. Is that why she's kept it this whole time? 'Cause...when he first walked into the room and saw it, it didn't look like she'd drank out of it since.
He rights the picture frame on the wall. His hand drops back to his side. Pretty much all he can do here. ] You gonna be okay?
[ He's torn between hunting that thing down and staying with her. He doesn't like that she's lost her phone, that she can't call him or anyone if something happens. ]
no subject
But she keeps going, murmurs Next time I will. Logan takes the damp rag from her hands where she's been wiping up the spilled whiskey. Their fingers brush. He nods. Okay.
Exhaling, he sits back and rests an arm on his knee. ] I'm gonna need to come back for that cupboard.
[ At least the glass is cleaned up. She kept looking at that bottle, though, and it's only now that he finally recognizes where it's from. He'd figured it was expensive, that that's all it was, but when he sets the trash can back in its corner, the gold and blue label jogs his memory. The one they shared, yeah. Is that why she's kept it this whole time? 'Cause...when he first walked into the room and saw it, it didn't look like she'd drank out of it since.
He rights the picture frame on the wall. His hand drops back to his side. Pretty much all he can do here. ] You gonna be okay?
[ He's torn between hunting that thing down and staying with her. He doesn't like that she's lost her phone, that she can't call him or anyone if something happens. ]