Jean took her first sip of her coffee, he rose from the bed. "I'll make breakfast today, bored of Henry's cooking." He said, already heading toward the door.
"Logan."
He paused in the doorway, glancing back.
"Thank you," She said softly.
His eyes softened in a way she'd never seen before… unguarded, almost vulnerable. "You're welcome, Jean."
Thank you, for not leaving.
________________________
Jean padded into the kitchen, following the faint sounds of clinking pans.
Logan stood at the counter, sleeves still rolled up, shoulders broad under his black shirt. A frying pan sizzled in front of him while he buttered slices of bread with surprising precision. He looked so… domestic, she almost laughed.
"So, this is it for the menu?" She teased, leaning against the doorframe.
He glanced over his shoulder, arching a brow. "Enough for us to survive. Don't expect a five star meal."
