AfterLife

chapter 19

The great hall of the dam was transformed, a cavernous space now pulsating with a festive energy. Kyno's people had worked tirelessly, stringing up old, salvaged Christmas lights that cast a warm, amber glow across the vast room. The lights, though faded and flickering, created an atmosphere of intimacy, a stark contrast to the harsh, utilitarian feel of the dam's corridors. Long tables, laden with food and drink, lined the walls, and the air hummed with the anticipation of the memorial and celebration.

As Rory wandered through the hall, observing the preparations, she spotted Logan engaged in a conversation with a young woman. The woman was clearly Angel, the girlfriend who had betrayed him.

Rory watched from a distance, her gaze fixed on Logan's face. She saw the pain, the hurt, and the simmering anger that flickered in his eyes. Angel, her face streaked with tears, pleaded with him, her voice a low, desperate murmur.

Rory studied Angel, taking in her appearance. She was undeniably beautiful, with long, flowing blonde hair, large, expressive hazel eyes, and a curvaceous figure. She wore a delicate pink dress, its soft fabric clinging to her form, a stark contrast to the rough, practical clothing worn by most of the dam's inhabitants. Logan's gaze kept returning to the dress, a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes.

Rory looked down at her own attire, a worn tank top and practical pants, stained with dirt and grime. She had never cared much about her appearance, her focus always on survival and the well-being of her people. But for some reason, tonight, she found herself caring about what Logan thought. A pang of unfamiliar insecurity tightened her chest.

She watched as Angel wiped away her tears and reached out to hug Logan. Logan hesitated, then gently patted her back, a gesture that lacked warmth or affection. A strange, unfamiliar emotion stirred within Rory, a sharp pang of jealousy that she couldn't quite comprehend. She felt her blood pressure rise, a familiar heat creeping up her neck.

Without understanding why, she turned and fled, rushing back to her room, locking the door behind her.

She stumbled into her bathroom, gripping the sink with such force that cracks began to appear in the porcelain. She closed her eyes, focusing on the breathing exercises Kyno had taught her, the techniques that allowed her to control the volatile emotions that threatened to consume her.

She looked in the mirror, her reflection staring back at her with a mixture of confusion and fear. She saw the black veins, a telltale sign of her inner turmoil, creeping up her neck, then slowly receding as she regained control. She took a deep breath, trying to understand the emotions that were swirling within her.

She had never been prone to jealousy, never been possessive of anyone. Kyno was the only exception, the man who had raised her after her father's death, the man she loved and respected above all others.

But there was something about Logan, something that drew her to him, something that sparked a curiosity she couldn't explain. She was intrigued by his strength, his resilience, his quiet determination. She was fascinated by his past, his life on The Nautilus, his experiences in a world so different from her own.

She pushed herself away from the sink and walked to her closet, her gaze scanning the rows of practical clothing. Her eyes landed on a simple white sundress, a relic from a time before the world had been ravaged by war. She took it out, her fingers tracing the delicate fabric.

She stripped off her worn clothes and slipped into the dress. It was a perfect fit, the soft fabric clinging to her curves, the spaghetti straps accentuating her shoulders. The dress stopped mid-thigh, showing off her toned, tan legs. She looked in the mirror, her reflection a stranger staring back at her.

She brushed her silver hair, the long strands cascading down her back. She pulled it up into a messy bun, leaving a few stray strands to frame her face. She looked at herself, a sense of unfamiliar confidence filling her.

In the great hall, Kyno stood on a raised platform, his voice echoing through the room. He gave a heartfelt speech, honoring those who had been lost on The Nautilus, celebrating the survivors, and welcoming the new alliance. He spoke of hope, of resilience, of the promise of a better future.

Music filled the hall, a lively melody that encouraged dancing and celebration. People mingled, laughing and talking, their voices a cheerful hum that filled the space. Food and drink flowed freely, and the atmosphere was one of joy and camaraderie.

Logan stood near the edge of the dance floor, his gaze scanning the crowd. He was happy to see his people safe and enjoying themselves, but his thoughts were elsewhere. Then his eyes were drawn to Rory, who stood near the entrance, her white dress a beacon in the sea of faces. His breath hitched in his throat. She looked stunning, her silver hair catching the light, her eyes sparkling with an inner radiance.

Rory walked towards him, her movements graceful and fluid. "Are you enjoying yourself?" she asked, her voice soft.

Logan cleared his throat, his gaze fixed on her. "Yes," he said, his voice slightly hoarse. "It's… different."

"Different from what?" she asked, her eyes twinkling with amusement.

"From celebrations on The Nautilus," he replied. "We didn't have anything like this."

Rory chuckled, her smile making Logan's pulse quicken. "I can't imagine celebrating in a sterile spaceship," she said.

"It wasn't all sterile," Logan countered, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. "We had our moments."

"Did you drink alcohol?" she asked, her curiosity piqued.

"Kind of," he replied. "It was synthetic, very weak."

Rory gently took his arm and led him to the bar area. She ordered two shots of aged whiskey, the amber liquid gleaming in the dim light. She handed one to Logan and raised her glass. "To new beginnings," she said, her voice filled with warmth.

Logan raised his glass and echoed her toast. They both threw back their shots. The whiskey burned Logan's throat, a fiery sensation that made him almost cough. Rory laughed, a melodious sound that filled his ears.

"You'll get used to it," she said, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "It's an acquired taste."

"I think I'll stick to synthetic," Logan replied, his voice still hoarse.

"Nonsense," Rory said, her smile widening. "Come on, let's dance."

She led him to the dance floor, where the music was now a lively, upbeat tune. They danced, their bodies moving in sync with the rhythm. Logan was mesmerized by Rory's moves, her grace and fluidity. He had never seen anyone dance with such abandon, such joy.

As they danced, Rory noticed Angel glaring at them from across the room. She chuckled, a low, throaty sound. "Looks like your ex-girlfriend is trying to burn holes in us with her eyes," she said.

Logan didn't even look at Angel. His gaze was fixed on Rory, his eyes filled with admiration. "I don't care," he said, his voice firm.

They continued to dance, laughing and talking, their movements becoming more fluid, more intimate. Then, a slow song came on, a romantic melody that filled the room. Rory smirked and gently placed her hands around Logan's neck. Logan hesitated for a moment, then placed his hands on her waist, pulling her closer.

They swayed to the music, their bodies moving in sync, their breaths mingling. The air crackled with unspoken tension, a silent acknowledgment of the attraction that simmered between them.

Suddenly, Levi walked up, his face grim. He pulled Rory away from Logan, his grip firm. "I need to talk to you," he said, his voice urgent.

Logan was about to protest, but Kyno stepped forward, placing a hand on his shoulder, "The last time I saw Rory wear a dress was when she was five years old. It's a rare occasion."

Logan watched as Levi led Rory away, a sense of unease settling upon him. He wondered what Levi wanted to talk about, what secrets were being kept from him. He turned to Kyno, his eyes filled with questions.

"Don't worry," Kyno said, his voice reassuring. "They'll be back soon. In the meantime, let's enjoy the celebration." He motioned toward the bar. "Another shot of whiskey?"

Logan hesitated, then nodded. "Why not?" he said, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. He had a feeling it was going to be a long night.