Veronica thinks it should be a bigger deal than the very vague trembling of her skin as Logan peels back her tank top. His fingers slide up her stomach almost carefully, bunching up the fabric on their way. Veronica really wants to make the situation more even but she can't take off his shirt while he's taking off hers.

The goose bumps lacing her skin make it look delicate and Logan pauses, looking up to her face as the flimsy slip of cotton reaches just under her breasts. He takes stock of the moment and Veronica holds her breath as he slips it up and over, hands skimming the outer edges of her breasts politely.

The anticipation dies slightly as she stretches up her arms, pulling up slightly to help him lift the top over her head, and realizes that she's still wearing her bra—still not exposed to him properly. The pretty pink fabric looks like it could sink into her skin and as Logan drops the tank top onto the carpet next to them he eyes it almost warily.

Veronica takes his pause and uses it against him, pulling at the front of Logan's shirt until she can undo the buttons from the neck downwards. Her fingertips skated over his bare chest lightly, accidentally, as she removed the shirt with determination. Then he's suddenly naked from the waistband of his jeans that curls around his hips all the way up and she's close to being the same. Closer, as his hands reach around her back towards the clasp on her bra.

"You sure you want to—?" his voice is hot and heady against her neck as he fingers the two small metal hooks that are separating them.

Veronica nods, murmuring an affirmative sound as she presses her face close to Logan—kissing him because words are difficult while her throat is tight and a little choked. Emotion is bubbling inside her chest because she is making the decision this time, and although Veronica has no intentions of sleeping with Logan on this occasion it's still a solid step towards that.

Logan has been covered in bruises for weeks now, until his chest is colored a sickly green. It looks painful and rotten under her hands as she pulls him a little bit closer and he holds her with one arm, flicking open her bra with his free hand. He inches the straps down her arms and Veronica leans even closer, trying to cover herself with his chest—to use Logan's body to shield herself from him. She's not quite sure she worked out the logic in that but soon enough he needs to detangle her so that the flimsy scrap of cotton and lace held together by a brashly contrasting metal wire can be removed from the bottoms of her arms, over her hands and down onto the floor by her tank.

And then she's naked from the waist up and her gaze is fixed firmly on the mattress near his legs as a sliver of pink tongue slips out and wets his lips, his eyes taking in the sight of her. Veronica is touchy and the cold air makes her feel even more exposed as her body reacts to it and she presses in closer to Logan, trying to hide against him again. But it's okay because then he's kissing her again and she can close her eyes while his hand slides down the front of her shoulder slowly, building up anticipation with tiny movements.

Logan's mouth moves lower on her body, his kisses following an almost uncomfortable trail down her jaw and neck—harsh breath panting out across her skin, making her shiver. Veronica lets her hand fall solidly onto his lower back, pulling Logan closer until he's forced to break from his downward exploration and move his mouth back to hers. His skin is hot and clammy, Veronica can feel her own overheating and shivering all at the same time, and she's convinced if she traced carefully enough she would be able to feel scars.

She's never seen Logan shirtless this close up before so she's never really checked to see if there are faint white recriminations staining his light tan. When she presses her fingers tightly into the skin and muscle just under his shoulder blade his hand moves against her and Logan tries to guide her down on the bed—to cover her over—but Veronica has other plans.

She says his name, the word forming breathily, voicelessly, "Logan." But he swallows the word and she can't find the heart to detach herself for a few moments. After letting her tongue glide languidly across his lips as she breaks away Veronica tries again.

"Logan," her voice is a little more forceful this time. She has one of her hands snaked in between them, pushing at his chest with the lightest pressure—careful about his mottled skin and newly healed ribs.

Logan pulls back, lips tugging at her mouth as he broke away reluctantly, one hand hovering over her left breast, the other anchoring her back to him. Veronica's hand runs soothingly in a barely there pattern, up and down his spine and the expression Logan shoots her breaks a smile across her face. His eyebrow is slightly raised, face slightly flushes, mouth twisted wryly with a non-dangerous form of frustration.

Her breathing is tight as he scrutinizes her, Veronica tries not to let the words catch as she asks, "Can I?" She flattens one slightly sweaty palm onto his back with the words, letting him know her question.

There is a heavy pause where Veronica can only hear breathing and she thinks—she's convinced—that Logan is going to say 'no'. She's not really prepared for when he moves a half foot of space between them and begins to turn around his voice thick and shaky as he replies, "Sure."

And she doesn't know if she's disappointed when there are no really visible marks marring the complicated network of nervously flexing muscles. One or two very faint tell-tale signs but then everyone has scars, not all of them are sinister. Logan's back doesn't scream for help anymore than he ever has. She runs her hand over the skin, tucking herself into him, chin resting on the crook of his shoulder, breasts pressed into his side.

Veronica lets her skin fit against his comfortingly, and Logan tries to even out his breathing—pushing back down the lump in his throat. Their dynamic is shifting and Veronica moves carefully back to kissing him because it is easier than this, easier to show him her own skin than try to map out the history of his.