Logan was walking down the street late at night, whistling quietly to himself as he shoved his hands into his pockets. His grandma asked him to go to the store to pick up a few things for dinner. It was only seven, but the sun had set making it feel like midnight to him. Running a hand through his brown hair, so lost in his thoughts he didn’t realize he had tripped over another person’s legs until he was on the ground. “Shit.” He hissed to himself, pulling his body up and helping the other person. “I-I-I’m sorry. I d-didn’t mean t-to.” He stuttered out, placing a hand behind his neck. Smooth, Logan. Smooooth.
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