Chapter 4 #5
Logan was a force of nature, a storm in human form.
He was the ocean’s pulse, the wild tides that rise and crash with unyielding urgency.
Every movement, every glance, was a wave, a tide pulling relentlessly forward, unpredictable, raw.
There was a fire in his eyes, an intensity that burned like the sun at noon, scorching and bright.
He was the sun on the horizon, an endless surge of energy that could neither be tamed nor ignored.
His spontaneity was like the wind—wild, untamed, impossible to predict.
Every spark he ignited blazed across the sky, and Adrian couldn’t help but be pulled into its orbit, helpless to resist. In contrast, Adrian was the anchor, the quiet depths of the sea, the part of the ocean that stays still while the world above swells and churns.
He was grounded, with his feet planted firmly in the sand, the steady ebb and flow of tides beneath him.
Where Logan was fire, Adrian was water, calm but vast, holding everything in gentle sway.
They were opposites, like the pull of the moon on the sea—Logan, the tempest that never stayed still, and Adrian, the unshakable calm that always held him, no matter how wild the storm.
But Adrian was mesmerized. How could he not be?
Logan burned with a fire that could never be contained, a fire that made the air around him crackle with energy.
Adrian stood in awe of it, the heat of it seeping into his bones.
He couldn’t help but be drawn in by the tide, the irresistible force of Logan’s spirit, a force that swept through him like the ocean’s waves, crashing over him with a power that left him breathless, unable to look away.
“I smell food,” Logan mumbled, eyes drifting closed again, his voice hoarse and edged with sleep.
“Eggs, fruits, bread.” Adrian’s voice was soft but proud. “And bacon.”
“Oh god, I love eggs and bacon,” Logan replied, his voice a sleepy murmur, but his grin broke through, broad and genuine. He opened his eyes fully, glancing over at the small table set with breakfast.
Adrian’s laugh echoed softly, a warm sound that curled around the room like the first rays of sunlight creeping over the ocean.
He dropped his gaze for a moment, the quiet between them thick with an unspoken pull, before looking back up at Logan.
“Come on,” he teased, his voice carrying a playful lilt, “it’s getting cold. ”
Logan groaned, sluggish but unwilling to stay still, his body dragging itself into a sitting position. He rubbed his eyes, fingers running through his hair, pushing it back from his face. “Two minutes,” he said, flashing Adrian a grin that could light up the room.
True to his word, he emerged from the bathroom moments later, his smile wide and uncontainable.
Adrian watched him, heart skipping at the sight—Logan was a whirlwind of energy, and Adrian couldn’t help but admire him.
Logan’s gaze wandered over the table, his silver eyes wide with something like wonder, and Adrian could feel the warmth of that look in his chest. “Wow, thanks,” Logan said, grabbing a few slices of mango and pineapple, savoring them with a childlike joy.
“You got avocado too!” he declared, reaching for the plate with the sliced avocados.
“Yeah, of course,” Adrian grinned, feeling a rush of warmth sweep over him just from watching Logan’s joy. Adrian filled his plate, trying to stifle the butterflies in his belly.
“That’s good,” Logan mumbled through a mouthful, his words punctuated by soft laughter. “Did you just make this while I was passed out?”
Adrian nodded, his smile widening as he took a deep breath. “I have to confess,” he began, his voice lowering with teasing seriousness. “It was just breaking eggs in a pan; I didn’t do anything but break them in the pan.”
Logan burst into laughter, shaking his head in disbelief. “I should have known,” he said, cutting into his eggs with a fork, “But it’s good. And you did cook it while I was basically passed out.”
They ate in a comfortable silence. The soft light of morning wrapped them in a quiet embrace, and for a while, it felt like nothing existed outside this small moment. Logan sipped his coffee and looked at Adrian.
“You know, I can cook okay, but my mom makes much better omelets. She adds onions, herbs, and mushrooms, and it’s incredible. I didn’t even try to replicate that.” Adrian remarked.
Logan looked up, his gaze softening. “Your mom?” His voice quieted, becoming thick. He remembered the brief mention Adrian had made of his mother, how she had passed when he was young.
“Oh,” Adrian’s voice dropped slightly, the air around him shifting. “Yeah. My dad remarried. My mom died when I was around six. My dad remarried when I was nine. I call her ‘mom’ too.”
Logan nodded. “I uh—” he started, uncertain. “I didn’t know. It’s not… You know what, never mind, it’s none of my business.”
Adrian met his gaze and gave a small, reassuring smile. “It’s okay.” His tone was steady, the walls he’d built around that part of his past still standing strong. “It’s thanks to her that I know how to surf so well.”
Logan raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “How so?” he asked, taking another sip of his coffee.
Adrian’s laugh was light, almost playful. “She started taking me to the beach whenever she could. Even when I sucked at it—believe me, I sucked. I fell off the board so many times, smashed into the water, all bruised. And she was always there cheering me on, saying, ‘You did so well, Adrian!’”
Logan was mesmerized, swept into the warmth of Adrian’s words like a wave pulling him deeper. “That’s amazing,” he said, his voice hushed, as though touched by something sacred.
Adrian paused, watching him for a moment, before asking, “What about you?”
Logan’s smile faltered just for a second, a shadow crossing his face. “I... you know, the usual. Mom and dad, nothing special.”
But Adrian caught the slight shift in Logan’s gaze, the way his voice lost its edge. Adrian didn’t press, but the silence that followed felt thick with something that didn’t need to be said for Adrian to understand it was there, lingering, like a storm on the horizon.
Logan’s voice broke the quiet. “My dad... he’s a hard one,” he said, the weight of his confession lingered in the air.
Adrian’s eyes were steady, the ocean in them a calm, silent place where Logan could almost drown, lost in the stillness.
He leaned in, but Logan was already sinking into the depth of his own thoughts.
“He makes the calls,” Logan continued, his fingers tracing the rim of his coffee cup, the motion almost like the restless lapping of the waves against the shore.
“Thinks he knows what’s best for all of us.
.. had my life mapped out before I even took my first breath. It’s one of the reasons I ran.”
Adrian’s gaze never wavered. “What are the other reasons?”
Logan’s eyes narrowed, as though something inside him was pulling back, hesitant to speak. It was the first time he ever dared to share it with another soul.
When he finally answered, his voice seemed to shift, ebbing like the tide pulling out, leaving nothing but raw honesty.
“Everything. I ran from it all. The pressure, the weight of it—it crushed me until I couldn’t breathe anymore.
When I was going through this, it was fine, I didn’t really notice it, but over time, it got worse.
So, I had to get away, you know? I had to find air that wasn’t suffocating me.
I didn’t even know what I was running toward.
I just had to go. To find air that wasn’t filled with someone else’s expectations.
” His hands shook, just enough for Adrian to see the tremor, like the ripple of a distant wave ready to break.
“I felt like I was wearing someone else’s skin.
I could make it through college, I had some freedom there, but after that?
The path was already set, my life already planned out.
.. but it wasn’t mine. It wasn’t what I wanted.
I needed air, clean and empty, not this suffocating weight. ”
Logan’s eyes drifted past Adrian, toward the ocean, where the waves kissed the shore with a tenderness that seemed foreign to him.
“I don’t think I even know who I am anymore.
Not without him... without him telling me every move.
For twenty-four years, I was a machine, a thing with a set program.
And now… now I’m just… lost.” His voice cracked then, like a wave breaking too soon, sending foam and salt into the air, leaving only silence behind.
There was a stillness in him that filled the space between them, a deep ache that pulsed like the heart of the sea itself.
He looked at Adrian then, his silver eyes shining with something fragile. “Haven’t spoken to them since I left,” he admitted, his words falling like stones into the stillness between them. “Not a word. Not a call.”
Adrian raised an eyebrow. “Really? They must be worried sick about you.”
Logan’s mouth twisted into a tight smile.
“They are. My phone rings nonstop. Mom. Sisters. It’s like they’re drowning in worry, trying to reach me.
” He let out a hollow laugh, his fingers pushing at the crumbs on his plate, avoiding Adrian’s gaze.
“They keep asking when I’m coming back, if I’m okay.
Physically? Yeah, I’m fine. But I don’t know if I’m really okay, you know? ”
Logan’s eyes dropped to his plate, then slowly, painfully, met Adrian’s. “And then there’s him. My dad. He’ll talk to me, but I know that I’ll hear the disappointment in his voice, like I’ve let him down, like I’ve drifted too far to be pulled back in.”