Misconduct

twenty three | soon you'll get better

Please, please, please.

My fingers shake as I let the phone slip out of my palm. It makes a soft thud against Logan's hardwood floors. Not loud enough to cause any damage but enough to make any phone-owner wince.

But I don't. I don't even bother to pick it up from off the floor as I mutter, "I-I need to go."

My broken murmur is met with silence. Static, tense, silence.

"Okay." He finally replies, the warm feel of his fingers leaving my skin. "I'll pack us a bag."

I peel my bleary eyes open slightly, a treacherous tear escaping past my waterline and daring to venture down my flushed cheeks.

"I'll get you a change of clothes." Logan's voice is like velvet grazing against my ears, soft and buttery. Yet it has no effect on my frozen pulse.

I'm not sure i've even taken a breath since she called.

"You- I- Us? You're packing us a bag?"

He offers me a short nod before he slips into his walk-in closet and returns with a duffle bag and 2 sets of folded clothes. "Yes. I'm coming with you."

I blink at him. Once, twice. Maybe even three times. I'm not sure I can even remember my own name anymore.

All I'm capable of doing is spiralling down, down, down. Down to the absolute worst part of my subconscious, down to my worst fears.

"Nova." His voice isn't as soft this time, more stern and authoritative. Like a teacher's would be while they scold you for sneaking an extra cookie off of the plate at recess.

"You didn't think that I'd let you go alone, did you?"

"Well," I clear my throat, the lump in it getting slowly pushed further and further down until it may as well join the knots in my stomach. "I, erm, yes? I was going to get a cab I-"

"Get a cab? To the hospital, at 3 AM, on New Years, with tears streaming down your face?"

Well... When he puts it like that, it does sound pretty dang stupid. "I'm sure I'll be fine. I just-I just need to go. I can't be here any longer. I just-"

"I'm not leaving you, November. Not like this." Logan leaves no room for negotiation as he drops some of his clothes onto my lap and packs the other pile into the bag.

My heart lurches, the lump in my throat returning with vengeance as I watch him rush around the room, gathering anything we might need for the hospital.

Tears prick at the corner of my eyes, my vision blurring while my shoulders quiver, desperate to choke back my sobs.

"Come on." He whispers so softly, with so much care, his eyes boring into mine. "Get dressed. I don't want you to catch a cold."

My bottom lip trembles when his thumb glides against my damp cheek, capturing the salty tracks. The look in his eyes is haunting, bone-chilling even. It's a look of pity.

Something I never asked for, never wanted. But in this moment, I almost welcome it. The sympathy. The care. It's not something I feel very often. Especially not from Logan of all people.

"I-I can't. I can't move. I-I'm so scared." My words are barely audible- the syllables blending together in strangled sobs.

"You can't get changed by yourself?"