’Rant to me I like the sound, I like your voice, I like your mouth..’ —Fool, Cavetown

You went over to Logan’s place, you two are in his grandparents’ greenhouse, and he’s ranting about each plant. Usually he’s quiet, a stammering mess.

You smile, nodding along. But you weren’t listening to his words. Just his voice, watching his smile as he happily watered a flower with pretty petals. Watching as his glasses slid down his nose, watching as his eyes glittered with excitement and passion.