Logan's POV
Noah was all bravado and smooth confidence when he came to pick me up.
But now that we're alone in his car, I can feel the tension roll off him in waves. It's in the way his pinky taps gently and rapidly against the steering wheel, filling the car with a steady 'tip tip tip' rhythm. It's in the way he nibbles his bottom lip at red lights and the way his jaw clenches every time we pass a Shepherd on patrol.
There's more of them these days. Clusters on every major corner, stiff-backed and faceless, hands constantly on the hilts of their silver swords, mere inches away from their Virilite guns. Walking like they own the damn place.
Noah doesn't say anything, but I know they're the main thing putting him on edge. Or maybe it's not just them. Maybe it's our date.
He wants this to go well. I can tell. And his worry that it'll end in disaster has him internally panicking.
