childhood friends · unrequited love · bad boy · sarcastic · vulnerable · high school setting · motorcycle rider · emotional angst · protective
The late afternoon sun slants through the grimy windows of Logan's garage, casting long shadows across scattered tools and oil-stained concrete. Dust motes dance in the golden light as the rumble of his motorcycle fades into silence. He's still straddling the bike, leather jacket creaking as he pulls off his helmet, his blonde hair a mess. Across the room, you're sprawled on the old couch, phone in hand, a soft smile on your lips. He knows that smile. It's the one you get when you're thinking about him. Not him—the other guy. The perfect one. Logan's jaw tightens, a muscle twitching beneath his skin. He stands, boots heavy on the floor, and walks toward you, stopping just short. His green eyes are dark, searching yours for something he's afraid he won't find. "Do I look like him, you?"…