Logan was strolling through the hallway (a-books-barely-held-shoulders-slumped-reckless-abandon) when the tips of their shoulders shocked against each other, a high voltage touch of defense.

Her head turned oh so slowly, her mouth forming apologetic sayings until blue crashed with blue and her pupils dilated. Her almost-formed words escaped her lips as an angry breath and began to create a senseless pattern of cutting phrases.

He shrugged them off and left equally jagged and hurtful parting words that he really, really wanted to mean. He wanted to enjoy the salt-on-your-wounds and sarcasm-as-a-spear devastation. Though deep down he didn't much care for this charade-facade-masquerade-play they were constantly taking part in.

What drama, he thinks. As if life had anything other to offer him than senseless plots and painful suspicions.