“Ad—Adrian, please!” Logan cried, his voice breaking as he wiped at his tear-streaked face. “Please, just talk to me. Please! Just—just look at me.”
Adrian froze for a moment but didn’t turn around. “No,” he said firmly, though his voice wavered, betraying the war inside him.
Dean, caught in the crossfire, hesitated before mumbling, “I’ll let you talk,” and moved toward the front door.
“No need,” Adrian said sharply, his eyes flashing toward Dean. “Logan is not staying.”
“Adrian, I’m not leaving.” Logan’s voice cracked as he took a step closer. “Please. Five minutes. That’s all I’m asking. Five minutes to talk to you.”
Dean’s eyes softened as he glanced at Logan, then at Adrian, before slipping out the door without another word.
The silence stretched thinly between them. Adrian finally turned then, and Logan wished he hadn’t. Because those eyes—those damn eyes—weren’t just angry. They were hurt. They were tired. They were hiding something Logan didn’t yet understand. And that made it worse.
“You have some nerve,” Adrian spat, his voice shaking now, no longer as controlled as he wanted it to be. “Coming here… After everything. After the way you—” He laughed, bitter and cold, but he didn’t finish that sentence. “You said you’re sorry,” he said coldly, his voice barely above a whisper. “I heard you. Now leave. I’m sure you know how.”
Logan flinched, breath caught like a whisper in the night. Before words could dance upon his lips, before explanation could weave its tale, Adrian’s voice, a tender hush, fell like silken rain. Yet within that softness, a sharpness gleamed, cutting through the still air, leaving Logan exposed, raw beneath the weight of unspoken truth. “Or would you rather wait until I fall asleep so you can slip out real quietly, just like last time?”
The accusation struck Logan like a blow, reverberating through his chest and before he could think, he strode forth with purpose, positioning himself in Adrian’s path. “Adrian,” he breathed, his voice trembling, quivering, a fragile note now that he stood so close to Adrian again. “I—I don’t know what to say. I don’t think ‘sorry’ is enough, but it’s all I’ve got. Please, just—please hear me out.”
Adrian’s breath trembled. His jaw locked, his lips pressing into a thin, bloodless line, but the rage beneath his skin was restless—unstill, unquiet. A shudder rippled through him, a violent tremor barely contained, his fingers curling into fists at his sides as if gripping at the fraying edges of something breaking apart. His throat bobbed, his breath a stuttered thing, caught between fury and something too tender to name.
Then—he moved.
Suddenly, Adrian’s hands seized Logan’s shirt, and in the next breath, Logan’s back collided with the cold, unyielding wall. The force of it rattled through his bones, stole the breath from his lungs, but none of it mattered—because there, mere inches away, was Adrian.
So close that Logan could feel the tremors dancing beneath Adrian’s skin, the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest echoing like a restless sea on the brink of a storm, yearning to unleash its fury.
Close enough to kiss, to melt into that breathtaking proximity.
Close enough to disappear into the gravity that had never really let them go.
Close enough to behold the haunting ache mirrored in those whiskey-colored eyes, those deep, soulful wells that Logan chased endlessly through the corridors of his memories.
Close enough to reach out and undo the tie on Adrian’s hair, like Logan had done countless times before. He could have touched his face, traced the lines grief had drawn, kissed the place where fury and pain lived beside love.
Even in anger, Logan wanted him.
No—heneededhim.
And if Adrian offered anything, even rage, Logan would take it. Take it all. Takehim.
Adrian’s voice broke open, ragged and wrecked.
“You fucking left me!”
The words cracked like thunder, splintering through the air between them. They struck Logan forcefully, echoing through the silent house and spilling into the pain that separated them, where the ocean roared and crashed, unsettled just like the space between them.
Tears poured down Adrian’s face, his anguish spilling out. “You left! You got up and walked away, like I wasnothing!” His grip tightened on Logan’s shirt, his body trembling with the force of his anger and heartbreak. “You tore me apart! You ripped me to pieces and didn’t even look back!”
Logan didn’t fight it, didn’t try to pull away. He let Adrian’s words crash into him, let them cut him open and expose every ounce of his guilt. Adrian’s pain was a storm raging in front of him, his eyes screaming the truth of his torment louder than his voice ever could.
“I know,” Logan choked, his own tears falling in rivers. “I know I did. And I hate myself for it, Ad. I hate myself every single day for what I did to you. Iamsorry!”
Logan’s tears fell freely, warm trails cutting down his face as if Adrian’s words had unearthed him—dug down through layers of scar tissue and time, brushing dust from bones he thought were long buried. He didn’t resist Adrian’s grip when he was dragged forward, didn’t fight back when he was shoved again.
He couldn’t.
The anger, the sorrow, and the betrayal pouring from Adrian were raw, unfiltered, and well deserved. Logan could only stand there, silent and breaking, as Adrian unleashed everything he had kept buried.
