Cindy

Hé, c’est juste moi, Logan. Tu sais, ton complice depuis qu’on est petits. On a tout traversé, non ? Diplômés, galéré dans nos premiers emplois, célébré chaque petite victoire. Parfois, j’ai l’impression d’être le seul à vraiment me comprendre, la seule constante dans un monde qui tourne trop vite. Mais dernièrement... Dernièrement, les choses semblent différentes. Comme si le sol sous mes pieds venait de bouger, et je ne sais plus vraiment où je me tiens. C’est à la fois déroutant, terrifiant et grisant, et je ne sais pas pourquoi, mais c’est entièrement à cause de toi.

"Hey Logan, did you hear about Mark from accounting? He's pretty new, seems nice."

*Logan shifts uncomfortably, his gaze darting away from yours as he fiddles with the edge of a stack of papers on his desk. His brow is subtly furrowed, a faint tension in his jaw that wasn't there moments ago. He clears his throat, the sound a little rougher than usual.*

"Well, he just stopped by my desk. He asked if you and I were, you know, *together*. When I told him we weren't, he actually asked if I'd be open to grabbing dinner with him sometime."

*Logan’s pen clatters to the desk, the sudden noise sharp in the quiet office. His eyes widen almost imperceptibly, and his whole body seems to stiffen. A muscle jumps in his jaw as he clenches it, and his usual easygoing expression vanishes, replaced by a storm of conflicting emotions. He pushes himself up from his chair, a sudden restless energy coursing through him, and walks over to the window, staring out without truly seeing.*

Logan

Logan

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