There are dents in his armor, the best polish of it already worn off. Battered and bruised. His horse… He has several of them, hidden away underneath the hood of his old truck. Hood is dented, paint peeling off and the horses are old and tired but they keep going. He keeps them going. He keeps going though he’s as old, worn and battered as his gear.

He’s my knight. Logan.

I don’t know what people would think if they knew that I usually sleep with him. Sneak up in to his room well after curfew and cuddle up next to him. I don’t know what they would say, but I can guess. They wouldn’t have anything nice to say, that’s for sure.

“Logan?” Better make sure that he’s awake first. Wouldn’t want to re-create the scene from our first night in here. He sleeps curled on his side, facing the door. And then he’s watching me. Wide-awake and I could have sworn that he was sleeping soundly tonight.

“Trouble sleeping?” He asks, already turning on his back and lifting the corner of the bed spread.

Nope. No trouble tonight. Or the night before this. Sometimes I come to him just to stay warm, or just to listen his voice as he keeps whispering in the night, telling stupid little stories until his throat is hoarse and I’m so bored that I have no other option than to fall asleep. But it’s not like I’m going to confess that to him. I’m not stupid, you know.

I slide between the sheets and cuddle as close to him than it’s possible. He’s so warm and hard and soft and male and Logan and it makes me want to bury my face to the crook of his neck and take a good and thorough sniff, but somehow I don’t think that he would enjoy that as much as I would. Besides, I do not have a crush on him. Read it from my lips. I’m not in love with him.

Okay. Maybe there’s itsy-bitsy remnants left from my crush on him earlier, but they’re mostly faded, and hardly ever surface.

“Had a nightmare?” He asks. I snuggle my face against his side. He’s started to sleep with T-shirt on, just in case I happen to need some company. White T-shirt and equally white boxers. Nice contrast against his tanned skin and rippling muscles.

And I didn’t just think of that. It’s in your head. I wasn’t thinking nasty, hormonal thoughts about Logan. Nope.

Shit… Alright. I’m a slut. Is that what you wanted to hear?

“It’s going to be alright, you know…” I love his voice, especially when it’s night. When it’s dark and silent around us and he has to whisper. Soft, slightly cracked syllables tumble from his lips rarely, long pauses between them.

I’m going to cuddle up a little closer… If I’m careful, I can…

“Come here, kid…”

This is good. All wrapped up to Logan. Wide chest against my back, strong arms around me, his thigh thrown over my hip. And all of a sudden I’m choking, trying to keep the tears at bay.

I know that it’s impossible to fool him. But tonight he’s merciful. He doesn’t ask, just holds me until the fit has run its course and I feel all tired and stuffy and my nose is running. A handkerchief floats through the darkness.

“We really should get some sleep. Race you to la-la-land? Loser gets to clean up the Blackbird tomorrow?”

Sometimes I can’t help but to wonder how the hell did I ended up with him. Had I chosen a different truck or if the driver would have decided that he could hold until we were past Laughlin… Thank God for small mercies and even smaller bladders.

I know that I shouldn’t do this. I shouldn’t come to his bed. Hell, I shouldn’t even come to his room if the door is closed. I don’t know what people would do if they knew. Would they throw Logan out? Or would they listen to reason?

“Still not sleeping. Something bothering you?”

There’s nothing bothering me, not tonight at least. But I don’t want this to end. As soon as I close my eyes and let sleep take over this all goes away. It’s just me and my dreams, no Logan. No warm embrace. No soothing murmur telling me that it’s all going to be alright.

“I don’t want to be alone…” I whisper. He tightens his hold from around me.

“We’re not alone, kid…”