Life was easier when you had someone to confide in, to tell them your darkest secrets, and your deepest worries; life was easier when you had a best friend. There wasn’t a time in Logan’s memory where he recalled having to face life by himself.

It had been before he was even old enough to learn how to ride a bike, the day he had met you. The friendship you had built since kindergarten was stronger than the sand castle you had built on the very first day you had met.

By your side, the days seemed brighter. Your smile was golden like the daylight—and he was sure everything would be black and white without you by his side. Logan could simply exist when he was with you, no judging, no pressure, just you.

He wasn’t quite sure when his affections towards you had taken that subtle but crucial twist. Suddenly he began noticing the way your lips curled whenever you laughed, or the way you’d bite your lip when you were deciding which ice-cream flavour you’d get. He could only hope you noticed that about him, too.

Logan laid on the grass, using his red hoodie as a pillow, a hand on his stomach, and the other under his head. He hummed as the wind blew by both of you, moving your hair around, much to your discomfort. you were still gorgeous, dishevelled, and all.

“Have you—uhm—done the physics homework yet?” Logan reluctantly asked, merely wanting to create a conversation to distract his thoughts from the beauty of this best friend.