Title: "Bring It On"
Word count: 690
Summary: This is a little ficlet in response to LJ user, acinogan's prompt: Logan's thoughts after the Camelot kiss. I really hope this qualifies ; )
Disclaimer: Not mine, and unfortunately, will never be. I don't make any money from this either.
A/N: This is my first attempt at second person. I'd love your honest opinions.
It takes you a moment before the shock wears off. Veronica Mars kissed you. She kissed you and you are both suddenly and infinitely glad she did. You really have no idea why but you are a guy so the reason never matters too much. Veronica Mars kissed you – out of nowhere- and it was good. It was better than good; it was life-changing. And now you sound like a girl.
It occurs to you that what had always been foggy and faded before suddenly became ever so clear. You loved her once, bright innocent eyes and long blonde hair - still so different then, clouded in ways you can barely even see through even now. You think you should have seen this coming. Memories of limos and homecomings flitter through your mind and you realize now, that maybe you didn't, but Lilly did.
It takes a while for your brain to catch up and your hands seem to be a tad reluctant. Luckily, fate, or whatever has brought you two together on this balcony of a flea-bag motel, has made her slower and you wiser. Your fingers wrap around her bicep, easily stopping her from fleeing. You pull her body against your own, leaving no room for second guesses, and press your lips to hers.
You kiss her soft but not gentle and hold her in place with the palms of your hands. It's funny to you that this may just be the best kiss you've ever had and you immediately wonder if it's hers. You find out quickly that the thin line between love and hate really must exist. You have to wonder though, if you've really ever hated the girl your kissing like this.
Her arms slide up to your shoulders and everything is feeling rather natural – like you've done this a thousand times before. It shouldn't, but it does and you're already wondering when the next time will be. There will be a next time, you're sure -chemistry like this can't stay dormant for very long. You wish that there would have been a before. If you'd known then what you're feeling now, there most certainly would have been.
Suddenly she's breaking away and your hands instantly feel like they've been burned. The spark exploded and now you both are like opposite sides of an ion, the past both pulling you together and pushing you away. And whoever said opposites attract clearly never had a couple of magnets. You think that's probably what you both are: she's a magnet for trouble- causing it and getting into it and you're a magnet for pain – giving it and receiving it.
So you can't blame her when she turns and runs as fast as she can down the stairs and away from you. If your feet weren't frozen to this exact spot you'd probably be doing the same thing. You can't take your eyes off her, though, and it seems as if she can't either. You've both started something that you have a feeling will never be finished and you're sure this won't be the first time she runs from it. You don't know how you know all these things- you just do.
Her car has long since peeled out of the parking lot and thankfully your feet don't feel nearly as sticky. You want to run after her, track her down and make her talk to you, make her tell you what the hell possessed her to kiss you, but you think there will be plenty of time for that later.
You've both stated something and you already know it isn't just a momentary thing – it's been building for a while. You have a strong feeling that it's going to be tough, impossible even, but your mom always said they didn't write songs about the ones that came easy. If anyone should know, it would have been her. You know it's going to be pretty powerful when dying is the only way out.
Right now, though, in this moment, the memory of Veronica Mars' lips burned upon yours, the only thing you can think is – bring it on.
Forget crack! It's comments I'm jonesing for ; ) Feed my addiction… pretty please?