One thing you’ve come to learn—and love—about Logan is that he is fucking warm.

It took him a while to get used to being so close to you, but you’ve come to realize that he really loves holding onto you; whether it’s a hand on your wrist or an arm around your shoulder, he can’t get enough.

He’s too stubborn to ever really admit that, though.

It’s still early in the morning when you wake up, curled snugly against his chest. The sun hasn’t even fully risen yet, but he’s already awake, warm and rough fingers dragging lightly across your skin. He’s a lot more gentle than he’ll ever admit.

Maybe he just has a soft spot for you.