Alternate ending number 2...
But now, at the end of Lilly's story, with the proof of his father's violence on Veronica's face, he found himself hoping for anther miracle. That Veronica Mars had it in her to give Logan Echolls another chance.
He stared into her eyes, looking for any sign that she still cared. She glared at him, trying to stare him down, but he held her gaze.
She looked away, not wanting to see anything in his eyes, not allowing herself to believe again.
His hand on her chin gently turns her face back towards his so their eyes meet again, and now he can see the walls coming down. He can see her uncertainty.
Veronica swallows, trying to angle her chin free of his hold but while he releases her, his hand doesn't leave her, he slides it around the back of her neck, his fingers tangling in her hair, sending shivers down her spine. The voice inside her head, angry and jaded, yells at her. "Get away from him! Don't let him do this to you."
But as his thumb lifts her chin again, this time so their mouths meet, the voice of reason is drowned under a tidal wave of emotion. She tries to be firm, tries to hold on to her sanity as his lips slide over hers her unbearable softness, making her stomach clench and roll.
She turns her head, breaking the contact. "No, I..."
But she doesn't finish her statement. The need in his eyes silences her, then as he inches closer to her, she feels the delicious warmth emanating from his body and she can't help but remember the comfort of it. A small voice inside pipes up, reminding her that she had the right to feel like this again. That it was her choice. His warmth or the cold prison of being alone. The chance to be happy or the security of being alone. She doesn't know which she wants, which she needs.
It is his words that seal her fate. Deep. Soft. Full of emotion. "Please Veronica..."
She wants to feel like his voice sounds. She wants to feel. And he gives that to her. He takes that from her. Despite her best efforts.
Blue eyes mesh with brown and he smiles faintly seeing her answer in her eyes, then settles his lips back on hers, brushing her lower lip with his tongue, asking for entry. Her breath shutters in her chest but the voice in her head is silent for once.
She's still not sure. Not sure of him, and defiantly not sure of herself, but as she opens her mouth to him, she knows that she's sure of one thing and that is that whatever this is, feels right.
Neither notice the sudden swell of conversation, the cell phone cameras snapping their picture, the shock or confusion that races through the students who see them.
None of that mattered. What was between them mattered. It didn't make sense, but it was. It existed beyond both of their best efforts to kill it.
Finally he steps back, both breathing deeply.
His face is full of desire, some sexual, but something else, something more. He needed her to believe in him. Forgive him. Find him to be worthy. He needed her.
Her face is full of uncertainty. Her instinct is still to run. Forget taking the high ground, forget sticking it out despite the worst they could dish out. There were other schools, other towns. Schools without him. Schools where she wouldn't have to see him. Safety. She would never be safe with him. She knew that.
When he smiled at her, a little happy, a little questioning, a little desperate, she just stared back at him. But when he held out his hand, offering it to her, she only hesitated for a moment, before meshing their fingers together and letting him lead her to his car.
Maybe nothing had changed, and maybe everything had changed.