[ Logan's first day in the Complex-- that he's been aware of, at least, who knows how long it took them to patch him up --had been...difficult. To put it mildly.
In a way, Storm had made something of the past couple of days...not better, but less sharp somehow, not as unbearable. She hadn't been his confidant for some time, but they settled back into it like things hadn't changed, when irrevocably they had.
How he'd found the liquor was a mystery he wasn't keen on sharing, but he was well on his way to shitfaced by the time Ororo pulled him away. That was fine, actually, he did what he'd set out to do: put some distance between a whole lotta fucked-up upheaval and forget everything again for a little while longer.
This morning he's paying for it in spades.
His mouth tastes sour on waking, his tongue sandpaper-dry, a pounding headache competing with the heaviness in his limbs. His pillow smells like 'Ro, summer breezes and spring lightning, tied to too many memories- had she stayed to keep an eye on him? ...What if she had, did it even fucking matter?
Awareness comes on the same time he realizes she's indeed there with him, and she's talking to...someone else, someone over the phone. TAB. Whatever the shit those things were. Annoyed and enormously crabby, Logan growls beneath his breath, and turns to sulkily press his face into the pillow. ]
.action
In a way, Storm had made something of the past couple of days...not better, but less sharp somehow, not as unbearable. She hadn't been his confidant for some time, but they settled back into it like things hadn't changed, when irrevocably they had.
How he'd found the liquor was a mystery he wasn't keen on sharing, but he was well on his way to shitfaced by the time Ororo pulled him away. That was fine, actually, he did what he'd set out to do: put some distance between a whole lotta fucked-up upheaval and forget everything again for a little while longer.
This morning he's paying for it in spades.
His mouth tastes sour on waking, his tongue sandpaper-dry, a pounding headache competing with the heaviness in his limbs. His pillow smells like 'Ro, summer breezes and spring lightning, tied to too many memories- had she stayed to keep an eye on him? ...What if she had, did it even fucking matter?
Awareness comes on the same time he realizes she's indeed there with him, and she's talking to...someone else, someone over the phone. TAB. Whatever the shit those things were. Annoyed and enormously crabby, Logan growls beneath his breath, and turns to sulkily press his face into the pillow. ]