“Pizza’s here,” Aden said with a gentle rap against the door. He didn’t linger, understanding that Logan would either come out, or he wouldn’t, and peer-pressuring him into anything was just asking for another loss.

Instead, Aden set out two plates, a few cups, and a jug of grapefruit juice. After retrieving his food with no sign that Logan would leave the room, Aden settled down in his comfy chair and opened his textbook. Lines of medical jargon blurred together, some words Aden knew from his early college days making themselves known with little more than a whisper. Sometimes it all clicked together in an ah ha! moment that made Aden feel more brilliant than he was. More often than not, it gave him a migraine so bad it knocked his ass out with the open textbook remaining snug on his lap. Just another nightmare to wake up to.

Aden hissed out a sigh and reached for a notebook. He didn’t like studying this way, but he needed to make up ground if he had any shot at setting aside the time to begin early work on Henry’s house.

He was about halfway through the third set of repeating processes when Logan finally took a timid step out of the bedroom. Thankfully, Aden’s concentration was already preoccupied and he surprised even himself that he barely noticed Logan’s appearance in the first place.

Aden paused his writing only momentarily to take a bite of cold pizza and adjust his glasses before returning to his pen once more.

“I didn’t know you wore glasses. When did that happen?”

Logan’s soft voice was like an explosion in the quiet of the night. Aden hoped the jump of surprise hadn’t been noticeable. He cleared his throat. “Technically, I don’t need them. Not all the time, anyway. The dyslexia just gets worse when the migraines are bad and this isn’t exactly…uh…my favorite subject.”

Logan’s expression barely changed, though a flicker of realization brought momentary light to his eyes. “Actually, yeah. That makes sense.”

Aden felt his lips turn downward in an involuntary frown. “What do you mean, makes sense?” he asked defensively.

Logan shrugged. “The single letter to Santa that Mary nearly killed you over because you wrote Satan instead? The multiple times you spelled my name wrong?”

“I never spelled your name wrong.”

“Literally all the time. L-O-G-N-A. Every time. You seemed to have issues with N and the swapping of certain syllables the most.”

Aden could feel the vague remembrances of his difficulties as a kid. Logan was right; not even his last name had been safe from the early days of his dyslexia. There was a reason he’d been home-schooled up until high school.

“I can’t believe you remember that,” Aden finally said with an embarrassed huff.

Logan nodded. “I remember a lotta stuff. Wish I didn’t, but I do.”

Aden wanted to pry but he forced himself to stay patient. “I wish I could remember literally anything about this textbook.”

Logan’s brows arched. “You always seemed pretty happy at the academy. I never would have guessed you were having trouble with it.”

“You’ve seen me at the—” Aden abruptly cut himself off. “It’s just not exactly my best subject. Fire Sciences were fine, the excursions and physical tests were fine. This EMT stuff, though…” Aden let himself trail off for the briefest moment.

“Thought that’d be the easiest part,” Logan said, taking advantage of the moment.

Aden shook his head and he felt his expression contort into something foul. He looked down in a thinly veiled attempt to hide it. “Not exactly,” he muttered with a fair amount of spite.

“Hmm,” Logan hummed thoughtfully. “Do you have anything other than grapefruit juice? Shit’s terrible. I don’t even know how you drink it.”

Aden blinked in confusion while his brain caught up. As soon as it did, Logan’s words and disgusted scowl startled a laugh out of him. A light, but genuine chuckle. “Oh-um-excuse me? Yes, I have water-how dare you, though? It’s good for you!”

Aden didn’t know why he felt any need to defend his drink of choice but he felt just in doing so as he stood up and walked to the refrigerator. Inside the door, water bottles were set in neat lines and Aden pulled one before returning to the living room where Logan had settled into his seat, a maroon chair just as old—if not older—than Aden’s. His legs were folded up delicately beneath him, his left leg slightly poking out to avoid any pressure on the burns that lingered there.

With a turn of his head, Aden attempted to break his observations as he handed Logan the cold bottle. “I make it a habit to keep soda out of the house, but if you want anything, let me know. A two liter now and again won’t destroy the habit.”

“Don’t drink soda. Water’s fine, but I won’t touch that juice.”

Aden chuckled. “Well, if you want a better juice, just let me know.”

Logan seemed to contemplate that for a bit and Aden took that opportunity to settle back into his study session. And, this time, when the silent stillness fell, it wasn’t uncomfortable. Aden slipped easily back into his writing until he could write the processes without the helpful glance at his book. How much time passed while he did so, he wasn’t sure. But he heard Logan’s chair creak as he stood to his feet.

“You weren’t kidding. You do essentially sleep out here,” he said, holding his plate while his eyes hesitantly probed the kitchen.

“Just set it on the table,” Aden said as he finished his last line of work and nodded forward. “I’ll take care of it. You going to bed?”

Logan nodded and a yawn accompanied it as though it was called to.

“‘Kay. The door locks; feel free to do so. The bathroom is down that hall,” Aden gestured, “and there’s a linens closest across from it with towels and extra blankets.” He frowned. Due to the heat of the bird, Aden didn’t have much need for blankets. Had he put a heavy enough comforter on the bed?

“Thanks…” Logan said, setting his plate on the coffee table.

“Yup,” Aden said as nonchalantly as he could. He didn’t want Logan to know how much that single fucking word lit him up like a firework. “There’s also an extra key on one of the side tables. The door’s a pain in the ass so I’ll show you how to deal with it tomorrow.”

Logan let out a quiet huffing laugh. “Oh, trust me. I’m sure I’ve dealt with enough shitty doors to learn how to handle another one.”

True. If he’d lived in the Under City as long as Aden now believed, he was sure Logan dealt with far more than just shitty doors. He nodded agreement.

“Well, g'night, then,” Logan said as his feet softly padded across the floor. They stopped just short of it. “Are you going to be here tomorrow?”

The question surprised Aden but he let his autopilot answer the question. “Got a class at eight and a meeting with the Academy’s councilor right after that, ‘round nine thirty-ish. I might meet up with Henry to see if we can grab materials for the floors.”

Logan quirked a brow.

“His floors have a bunch of holes and rotted beams that need to be replaced,” Aden explained. “We wanted to try and get the house done sooner. I didn’t want you to feel trapped.”

And, for the first time in a decade, Aden saw that familiar, warm softness flicker in the otherwise cold depths of Logan’s coal eyes. It was gone only a moment later.

“Why?” Aden asked, shrugging off the disappointment at the fleeting feeling. “Did you need something? A ride to the courthouse, or did you need to meet up with the lawyer?”

Logan shrugged and then shook his head. “Neither. Jess said I have a few weeks to recover before we delve any further. I just…wanted to know.”

A weak butterfly flopped around in Aden’s stomach. “Unless Henry agrees to get the materials after my meeting with the councilor, I should be back by ten thirty. Well, depending on traffic, anyway…” Aden looked at Logan’s dressings. Some of them had started coming undone. “Do you want help redressing those in the morning before I leave?”

Logan flinched. “Oh-uh…no. I think-I think I can manage.”

Aden tried not to let his disappointment show. “If you’re sure. Let me know if that changes.”

“I will,” Logan assured as his fingers gripped the door.

Neither said anything else as Logan slipped quietly into the room. Aden heard the door lock which immensely deflated him, but he returned his attention to his textbook. Or, at least, he tried.

Logan had been so much more docile than Aden could have ever imagined after their recent exchanges. After all, he hadn’t even stayed at the hospital for more than eight hours after telling Aden his presence was undesired. Then he just showed up and, for the most part, that venom had dissipated. All of Aden’s thoughts became consumed with scrutinizing every easy, huffing laugh, that one moment of tenderness softening Logan’s gaze, his timid thank you.

Growing frustrated after reading the same paragraph for what seemed like hours, Aden finally conceded and carefully set his materials back into their designated spots. He pulled his phone from its charging pad on one of the end tables and took it with him to the linens closet where he retrieved his blanket and returned to settle on the couch. His phone read two in the morning. Aden needed to be up in four hours. Cool.

But something more concerning lingered in Aden’s notifications. A social media message that made my blood boil because he was supposed to have been blocked.

KylesWorld9195: Heyyyyy handsome ;)

Aden scowled and quickly blocked the account. If he didn’t need it for relationships tied to the Academy, Aden would have shut down all his social media years ago.

Without another thought, Aden set his phone back on its charging pad and made a more valid attempt at sleep.

***

Dancing oranges and reds decorated the skyline as a brisk fall evening began its quiet decent. Skyscrapers loomed in the distance. Away from the lower roofs and spaced buildings of the outer edges of the city. Birds were chirping in the small bunch of sycamores standing alongside the parking lot and a squirrel sprinted from tree to tree, its tail jumping against its back.

“Oi! The fuck was that, mate?”

Aden shrugged languidly as he slicked his wet bangs back. It was true that he was in a mood of sorts—bitter remnants over Kyle’s message souring his attitude and it didn’t help that whatever progress he’d made that first night with Logan had seemingly dissipated that following morning. Logan had made an effort to inquire about Aden’s schedule so he assumed Logan had intentions of spending more time with him. He’d assumed wrong, and it was making it just that much harder to get through every day without rage quitting.

“Eh, fine. Patience never was your strong suit, ya fucker,” Henry grumbled under his breath.

Aden couldn’t tell if Henry was referring to their current interaction or to Aden’s earlier confession of his current aggravations.

“Listen…I know you’re frustrated over the last few days, I get it. And today’s class wasn’t exactly your favorite subject. But you don’t gotta leg it right out of the shower, especially not in this cold,” Henry grumbled, slicking auburn strands out of his face. Water left dewdrops over his skin, reflecting the fading light in scintillating patterns. It gave the illusion that they were glowing sparks. “I mean, look at you! Barely gave yourself time to dry off. You’re gonna catch somethin’ and I guarantee you don’t want anythin’ to do with those hospitals.”

Aden tentatively touched his icy hair and grimaced.

Henry noticed and a wad of something soft thumped against Aden’s chest right before he managed to somehow catch the item. It was a thick, wool-knitted hat.

Aden sighed, his shoulders burdened by the sudden weight of guilt. “I’m sorry,” he said, slipping the hat on and letting the immediate warmth thaw his frigid hair.

Sickness will overtake your stubborness, the bird drawled. Use the—

Aden attempted to blot out the noise by continuing, “I just-I need to…” he trailed off again, unsure of what to say. Yeah, he was impatient. That was a given. But a part of him worried his redemption was a dream written on paper and tossed into a tempest that shredded it without stopping.

Henry’s eyes softened, understanding adrift in gentle waves of azure. “Sure, look. Don’t gotta explain yourself. I think-I’m pretty sure I understand what you’re gettin’ at.” His lips lifted ever-so-slightly and he gestured to the dense woodland park across the lot. “Maybe a hit in the woods, yeah? Give it a lash, see if it brings any calm to that storm in your heart. Don’t quite like seein’ you torn to bits like this.”

Aden thought about it as they continued toward his car, parked snug against the trees at the far back of the lot. He’d decided before Logan even stepped into the apartment to rid it of anything addictive; a few bottles of varying liquor and a tidy gram of flower. Most of it had already gone to Henry so, of course, he’d known Aden hadn’t had a smoke for a few days.

“Sure,” Aden finally answered as the looming sycamores and contrasting deep, green-needled fir trees grew closer. “Might as well waste an hour or two out here.” Aden had no idea where Logan was or when he’d return, and Aden hadn’t pressured Logan to inform the former of his comings and goings. It’d only cause more bitterness and distrust.

With his car nestled up against the trees, Aden dropped off his bag and traded his light track jacket for his heavier winter coat. After grabbing a bottle of water, Aden turned back to his friend.

“Ready?” Henry asked.

Aden took a deep breath of the crisp, forest scent. “Let’s go.”

Will You Walk The Line?