The air around them seemed to hush. The music kept playing somewhere behind them, laughter rising and falling but Logan couldn't hear it anymore.
All he saw was her.
Jean, who had built walls taller than anyone, who had learned to wear coldness like armor… and yet, somehow, kept a door unlocked just for him.
Logan exhaled, his jaw tightening, pulse loud in his ears. Slowly, deliberately, he lifted her free hand in his and brushed his thumb over her knuckles.
"Then don't," he murmured. "Don't shake anyone's hand. Ever. Let them say what they want. I don't give a damn."
Jean's lips parted, surprise softening her gaze, something unspoken blooming in her eyes.
"Just keep letting me touch you," Logan added, his voice rougher now, the promise coiled tight in every word. "That's enough."
And for the rest of the evening, Logan stayed even closer to her side than before… his hand never far from hers, as if daring the whole world to try and come between them.
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