"I love you," she whispered one night. Logan pretended to be asleep so he wouldn't have to answer.

He heard her sigh, a soft, sad sound, and his heart tightened. He was sure she knew that he wasn't really sleeping. But she didn't say anything further, just slid under his arm and rested a gloved hand on his bare chest. Her breathing grew steady and even, but he stayed awake for the rest of the night, staring at the ceiling and wondering how she could love him when he could be such a jackass to her.

Wondered if what he felt was love, after all, or if this was just some kind of trial run. The thought made him sick. God, she deserved better than that. She deserved better than all of this, and he was too twisted with fear of getting tied down to be able to give it.

He hated that about himself, hated that he was holding back from the one person who loved him, who he could always count on to love him, despite everything he was.

-- "Butterfly Net" by MollyTM


It was the look in his eyes that made her fall again. Of course, it was his eyes that made her fall the first time. To any normal passerby, they looked like any other hazel eyes, but she had gotten close enough to see the difference.

They were more green then brown, and with just enough gold to remind her of a deep forest with shafts of sunlight. They had always been his one telling sign. No matter how much he tried to hide things from her she could always see a hint of what he was really thinking in his eyes. Obviously, she could never really read his mind. But when they had first started going out she couldn't remember the color of his eyes so when she finally found out again she committed it to memory, and it stuck.

Now, when she thought she had blocked him out enough to have a casual fling, he looked at her like that again. It started innocent even though both knew how it would end. Some pointless banter, discussion of current events, some tickling and then they were kissing. It didn't take long for their bodies to remember how they fit together and soon the clothes were discarded.

But as he stood over her as she sat on the edge of the bed suddenly shy again, he pushed his hands through her hair framing her face and looked down at he with that look in his eyes.

And so she fell hard this time. Because this time, it wasn't reciprocated. She was loving a man who had walked away from her simply because he felt tied down. Yet he still wanted her as a friend and as a lover, but not the commitment. They were young, yes, she would be the first to agree to that, but no one said forever had to happen now.

So they made love, twice. And it was wonderful and great. But when she realized that she had to leave instead of staying like she would usually do, reality hit that her dream was over now. It was time to go home and return to that close but not too close situation.

His eyes, his damn beautiful eyes. They would be what she remembered from now until the end of time. Even if she did fall in love with someone else and live happily ever after. In the quiet moments, between happiness and hope, she would see his eyes. Then she would relive everything all over again, but maybe by then she'll be able to look on it and smile instead of cry.