The King of Beasts (beastclaws) wrote in we_coexist, @ 2015-04-18 20:59:00 |
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Entry tags: | giselle, logan, zz:status complete |
Precious time (Giselle)
Logan had been so busy lately putting the current finishing touches on the last part of the gym that needed tending to. The only thing left to work on was the name. He had something he had been toying with, an idea of what to entitle the place but he had no right to even attempt to name something with a title that didn't belong to him. The work he had poured into the facility showed; he was glad to see Steve Rogers utilizing it for its purposes on the regular. It pleased the Wolverine a great deal knowing his place was useful. That he could still amount to something.
But completion of the building meant that the time spent with Giselle working on the task was also done and she would once more need a task to occupy herself with. He enjoyed her company a great deal and he knew he could get caught up in his work, which he had. When Giselle retired from painting her mural and retired to the cabin, Logan often found himself working onward without her. On the promise to return soon, of course. Though some nights had turned into days and then nights again before he returned to the cabin exhausted and in need of a shower. The exhaustion never lasted, he was built with more stamina then anyone would know what to do with, but still.
It had paid off, though. And he was satisfied with it.
He waited patiently at the table in the kitchen for Giselle. Perched in the seat, Logan browsed the last bits of the day's previous paper though the sunlight pouring through the kitchen window dwindled. His keen eyesight allowed sharpness of the words despite the growing darkness. Logan had promised to take Giselle out, whatever she wanted to do, for being away from her so much. He felt he owed it to her and he wanted to ask a favor of her. That unfinished part of the gym commanded it. Steve Rogers needed a name to call the place he went to blow off steam. Logan would give it to him one way or another. But first things first.
"Hmm...intrestin'," Logan breathed softly to himself. He closed the paper, folded it gently and set it aside so that his hands were free to devour the last of the beer in the neglected brown glass bottle nearby. It was warm and bitter but it soothed him while he waited. Ever so patiently.