A Little Bit Of Joy | ✔

Chapter Forty Nine : The Girl He Chased

Third Person's POV [Logan's POV]

Logan got up groggily, an acidic taste lingering in his mouth. His brain felt like it was going to burst into million tiny pieces and his body ached from sleeping in an awkward position the entire night. Why did he drink alcohol anyway? The last thing he wanted was to turn to that poisonous liquid whenever he was in crisis.

He stumbled towards the bathroom. Where was he? Never mind. The only thing he wanted was water against his skin. He leaned forward the small sink and twisted the tap handle several times until the water dribbled thinly. He repeatedly washed his face and mouth, the muddled questions in his head increasing with each passing second.

He swung open the bathroom door and stepped outside. In the darkness, his feet hit several objects as he cursed under his breath, making his way back to the couch. He found his phone and was blinded by the sudden light when he switched it on. He narrowed his eyes at the screen.

What the hell was he doing in Marilyn's apartment at seven in the morning?

"Chill out, we didn't fuck," Marilyn's deep voice came from the other end. He hadn't noticed her sleeping on the matresss this entire time because of no brightness. "I don't fuck neighbours, they become too clingy."

"What did we do then?" Logan asked warily, checking if his clothes were in place.

"We drank, talked, laughed, cried. Well, you cried," she said and he winced, recalling the events of the night. "Feels like shit huh?"

He didn't know what felt like shit, he was shit so he shrugged. "Yeah."

"It'll go away soon," she reassured.

Logan realized she was referring to the hangover. He cleared his throat, suddenly feeling suffocated in her apartment. "I should go, thanks for uh . . . "

"It's all cool kid."

"Cool," he mumbled and found his way to the door. He didn't know why he was hurrying, it wasn't like he had done anything with Marilyn. But he didn't want to be here anymore or go back to his own place. He didn't know where exactly he wanted to be, but certainly away from this grubby building.

Logan rushed outside with no destination in his mind and as he reached the top of stairs, he heard Marilyn calling him. He turned around and found her droopy grey eyes studying him lazily. She was still clad in her black bra and crumpled white skirt. All Logan wanted to do was throw the thickest blanket over her- to protect her from everything evil and simultaneously run away as far as possible from her and this sordid place.

"You left your phone." Marilyn showed him his phone, stretching her hand. "Are you going to see---"

"No," he cut her off, taking his phone from her. "I'm not seeing Joy. In fact, I'll never see her. She's too good for me. She's too good for anyone."

"Nice decision kid," she said dolorously. "Such kind angels don't deserve dirt like us."

Logan nodded, smiling ruefully. Just then, he heard a soft thud. Marilyn and Logan both looked down at the source of noise and saw a baffled Rosemary at the end of the stairs. She had tripped, but she didn't look hurt. At least not physically.

Rosemary's wide eyes darted between Logan's untidy and Marilyn's scantily dressed shape. For an outsider, it definitely seemed like something wicked had happened between the two the entire night. Before Logan could explain, Rosemary scurried downstairs leaving behind only a whiff of lavender perfume. "Shit."

"What happened?"

"I went on a date with her a few days back. I promised for another date," Logan replied, the repentance of his past actions gnawing him in the inside.