3,471 Miles [Undergoing Editing]

Twenty Three- A Dark Tatoo.

After a long debate about the greatest love story's, the best author and book, Logan made me come home which I wasn't too pleased about.

I felt smothered. I know he was doing it for my own good, but it's still getting under my skin. Even though it hasn't been long, house arrest was killing me, slowly.

I sighed as I flopped down on the couch in our apartment. My body was aching and my throat felt like someone had sandpapered it.

"How you feeling?" Logan asked as he came over from the open kitchen and passed me a glass of water and two tablets.

"Ok I guess." I said grimly as I plopped the tablets in my mouth and swallowed a huge gulp of water.

I placed the glass down on a coaster that was rested on the coffee table, then sat back on the sofa, resting my head on a now sitting Logan's shoulder.

"Thank you." I whispered, shutting my eyes and filling my lungs with Logan's distinctive scent.

"For what?" He asked, ruffling my hair.

"For taking care of me, sticking around." I mumbled, letting a yawn escape my lips.

"A little sacrifice don't bother me." He smiled against the top of my head.

Remembering our Romeo and Juliet conversation earlier, I burst out laughing, "You really are a charmer, you that right?" I grinned as he pulled a blanket over us both.

"Only for you, my dear London." He replied in a mimicked British accent, causing me to giggle.

And we both drifted into a well needed sleep. I'd came to the conclusion that doing nothing makes you more tired than when your do things.

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I was hot. Real hot. My skin was burning and my chest felt heavy, but it wasn't due to my sick state. It wasn't uncomfortable, just unfamiliar.

I cracked opened one eye to find the source of this heat.

Looking around confused, I noticed that I was tangled up with Logan on the sofa. I had my back propped up against the arm of the sofa, legs over Logan's lap whilst he lay sideways on my chest with his arms around my waist.

Well, this would be awkward if someone came home.

Logan looked so peaceful when he slept. So boyish and child like. His light brown hair hung over his face, screaming for me to push it back. His cheeks had a light pink hint from the heat, his chest gently raising and falling.

The sleeve of his t-shirt was slightly pushed up, revealing his tattoo. I'd never gotten the chance to have a look at it properly, it had always been from afar.

Curiosity got the better of me, so I shuffled down slightly, so I was face to face with a sleeping Logan. I gently lifted his sleeve all the way up, careful not to wake him up.

It was a huge tattoo. Starting from the top of his right shoulder and running all the way down his arm until it reached his wrist.

I'd never been a big fan of tattoo's. I didn't really understand the motive behind them.

Why would you want to put something on your body permanently. Like, how could you be sure that you would like it still in thirty years time?

Plus when your seventy with wrinkles and a drooping tattoo, I don't think you are going to feel to happy about your previous decision.

But, this tattoo was mind blowing. At the top of his arm where detailed shaded clouds that shot out lightning.

In the middle of the dark clouds was an angel parting the darkness, holding on to a ball of light smiling. There was rosemary beads twisting round his arm to the bottom of his wrist where a delicate cross hung neatly and doves flew in between the gaps.