6. Don't Leave

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Edit/Rewritten: April 11, 2021

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Tripps POV

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Chapter Six: Don't Leave

     A frown tugged at my lips as I looked at Logan from the corner of my eye. He hasn't been sleeping? Is that why he had been acting so distant and secretive whenever he came back from classes? I held back from shaking my head at my own thoughts. Nah, there had to be something else (something more) keeping him awake. Logan was strong, both physically and mentally, I doubt a couple of hours without sleep could have changed him to the point of becoming so distant.

     Maybe it was me?

     Fuck off Tripp, don't be so self-centered. I got up as I finished my food, picking up my plate and placing it in the sink. I turned to see Logan doing the same, we paused as our eyes met. I studied him for a second. His eyes fluttered as he took notice of my wandering eyes, his right hand gripping his left elbow. A change I had started seeing a few weeks into moving to our dorm (read: house); was that he had started becoming shy around me.

     But, as the basis of our relationship, I didn't force him to open up. I, more than anyone, understood the fear of doubt (I mean, at this point, we all know about my fear of doubt). My coming out story is a true tragedy, I still haven't gotten around to fixing that. Because of the foundational build up (what am I, an inspirational speaker?) of our friendship though, I would believe the excuse he gave me.

     "You're going to take a warm bath while I prepare you some tea, then you're going to sleep with me." His eyes went wide and I had to stop myself from gaping as a beautiful rose blush crossed his cheeks. He nodded quickly, hiding his face by lowering his head once more. I could die happily now.

     That didn't stop me from wondering why he was suddenly so shy? Not that I minded.

     I didn't give him more time, gripping his hand and proceeding to drag him to the bathroom in my room. I made quick work of turning on the bathtub, turning to him and gripping his face in my hands. Logan sighed, leaning tentatively into my touch as I pressed my lips against the side of his head, telling him to get in the bath when he deemed it ready before heading to the kitchen. Quickly, I filled a kettle with water, placing it on a low set stove before returning to the restroom.

     I leaned against the doorway to take in the sight in front of me. Logan had undressed and was leaning the back of his head on the curve of the tub, the expanse of his neck and shoulders slick with water. I forced myself not to look past his collarbones as I walked past him, sitting down on the closed toilet seat and turning off the running water. One of the many things I envied about Logan was that he was able to get into the shower without caring about the temperature (ok, so maybe I'm weak, sue me for wanting perfectly tempered luke-warm water for my showers).

     His eyes fluttered open and he smiled softly at me. "Do you want to soak or actually wash?" I asked, leaning forward to comb the loose strands falling onto his face. Logan hummed, blinking lazily.

     "Wash me, babe." My breath caught in the back of my throat, stalling my movements. To ensure that he wouldn't catch me freezing like a deer in headlights, I distracted myself by grabbing one of the bottles of shampoo, nudging him to sit forward. He did so without hesitation, giving me ample space to pour shampoo on the top of his golden locks. Somewhere throughout our second year of friendship any embarrassment we had towards our physicality (a.k.a. Seeing each other naked) disappeared. Though showering each other wasn't a common action, it had been done before. Mainly because sometimes Logan would stumble into my room drunk and the stench was so overwhelming that showering him was the only way I would let him sleep on my bed.

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