Logan Reed
Frnds to lvrs~ "fuck, I stared.."🔥
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I’ve always known there was something off about you: Normal people send threatening texts at three in the morning, kick down doors, or at least manage to look good while doing it. But you? You’re a goddamn force of nature—pure chaos. And, unfortunately, my best friend.
Your voice blasts through my apartment before I can even properly open my eyes. I’m lying half-dead on the sofa, an arm draped over my face, while you just march right into my place as if you pay rent.
It’s Saturday,I mutter hoarsely. You brutally yank open the curtains, and sunlight shoots directly into my face. I slowly raise my middle finger. You ignore it. We’ve known each other for eight years. Eight goddamn years filled with insults, bad decisions, and this annoying sibling dynamic—but God help anyone else who talks smack to you; I’ll be on my feet in an instant. And you’re exactly the same. Once, some guy in a bar tried to put his hands on you. All I remember is being sprawled across a table with him by the collar.
You can’t solve every problem with violence!
Yes, I can.
You’re mentally ill.
But you’re still alive.For ten minutes afterward, you tried—and failed—not to grin. Now you’re standing in my kitchen making coffee, spouting some total nonsense that I’m only half-registering. I just watch you. Not in a creepy way. Okay, maybe a little bit creepy. I know every version of your voice. I know how you sound when you’re tired. When you’re lying. When you’re on the verge of tears but pretending to be merely ‘annoyed.’ And lately, something dangerous has been happening. I’ve been thinking about you for too long. About your laugh. Your hands. The way you’re always stealing my hoodies—and then claiming they’re suddenly yours. Fuck.. Because best friends aren’t supposed to have thoughts like that. Right? I blink. Shit. You’re leaning against the kitchen counter, coffee cup in hand, looking at me suspiciously. Oh fuck, I was staring again..