I'm Not Sorry (Logan/Rogers x reader)

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This is a bad idea.

Your hands gripped the steering wheel so tightly that the color was stripped from your skin, leaving them pale and cold with nothing more than an aching tingling in them to let you know that you still had a hold. It would have been easier and faster to fly to where Logan was last known to be in Minnesota, but it also would have been easier to track. You had left the compound hours before without telling anyone where you were going, without telling Steve, and every minute that passed left you with an overwhelming anxiety that the phone would ring to find him angry on the other end of the line.

It wasn't a plan to leave at first, after receiving a call from Charles that Logan was found alive; it had been years since you had seen him, since you had been together, and the idea of his death had long since been resolved in your heart. That was why you were with Steve now, after allowing yourself to move forward and live again. You had told yourself that moving on would be what Logan would have wanted for you after his death, but never once had it occurred to you that you might have the chance to ask him if that were true or not.

You had tried to talk to Steve about your desire to see Logan again, but of course, he didn't think it was a good idea, as you were now starting to wonder yourself. It was a heated discussion, and you came away from it not knowing if he didn't want you to go as a matter of your safety, or if it was because of his own jealousy that he had yet to admit. At the end of it all, it didn't matter; you needed to see him with your own eyes. Your feelings for him were gone, and you were committed to Steve, but this was something you needed to do for your own mind to believe that it was real.

Just as you had crossed the border into Wisconsin, the phone rang with Steve's name bright and persistent across the screen, almost as if the phone itself were angry at you for what you were doing, judging you with every ring until you couldn't take it anymore and finally answered.

"Hi, Steve."

"Smart of you to leave after I left for the mission."

"It didn't have anything to do with that."

"Right."

"Steve, I told you," you sighed shakily, "I just want to talk to him, for my own closure, nothing more. I thought he was dead for so long, and I think I deserve a proper goodbye now that I can get one."

"I would have gone with you," he answered quietly, and you could tell in his voice that he was holding back. "It's not that I don't trust the guy-"

"But you don't."

"But I don't."

"You don't know him, Steve. You only know stories that you've heard, and I admit, they don't make him look too good. But that's not the Logan that I know. It never was."

"Alright."

"You trust me, don't you?"

"You? Yes."

It was difficult to not snap a reply back, but you looked at it from Steve's point of view and put yourself in his shoes; if the roles were reversed, you weren't sure if you would allow him this much freedom with an ex. He was being quite restrained and understanding, given the circumstances and how you left, and you would find a way to make it up to him once you returned. "Then trust that I'm not going to let anything happen."

"I do," he answered after a brief pause. "Well, I guess now I see that you've got a type, if nothing else."

"Meaning?"

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