AfterLife

chapter 20

The celebration surged forward, a tidal wave of revelry that swept through the great hall, transforming it into a vibrant, pulsing heart of the dam. The music, a carefully curated blend of old-world melodies and newly composed rhythms, resonated through the cavernous space, each note a spark igniting the collective joy. The air hummed with a palpable energy, a tangible manifestation of the relief and camaraderie that had blossomed in the wake of the Sang Shi attack.

The salvaged Christmas lights, strung across the ceiling, cast a warm, amber glow, painting the scene in a romantic, almost dreamlike light. The scents of roasting meats, spiced wines, and sugary pastries mingled in the air, creating a heady aroma that tantalized the senses. Laughter, loud and uninhibited, echoed through the hall, a symphony of human connection that drowned out the lingering echoes of fear and uncertainty.

Angel, clearly determined to assert her presence, moved through the crowd like a predator, her eyes constantly searching for Logan. She clung to Chris, her movements exaggerated, her laughter forced and brittle. She draped herself over him, her body a constant, provocative display, her eyes darting to Logan, gauging his reactions. It was a calculated performance, a desperate attempt to reclaim his attention, to rekindle the embers of their past.

Logan, his jaw clenched tight, watched the spectacle with a growing sense of detachment. He tried to ignore it, to focus on the festivities, to lose himself in the rhythm of the music and the warmth of the crowd.

But the image of Angel and Chris, their bodies entwined, their laughter a mocking echo of their betrayal, kept intruding on his thoughts, a relentless reminder of the wound that still festered within him.

Then, a soft, almost ethereal touch grazed his back, a gentle caress that broke through the wall of his anger and resentment. He turned to see Rory standing behind him, her eyes sparkling with a mischievous glint, her lips curved into a playful smile. "Do you want to make her jealous?" she whispered, her voice a soft, teasing murmur that sent a shiver down his spine.

Before Logan could even respond, before he could process the question or anticipate her next move, Rory gently pulled him down, her hand cupping the back of his neck, and softly kissed his lips.

It was a fleeting touch, a delicate brush of her lips against his, but it was enough to shatter his composure, to send a jolt of raw, untamed electricity through his body. The world around him seemed to dissolve, the music fading into a distant hum, the laughter becoming a muffled echo. All he could hear was the frantic pounding of his heart, a drumbeat that resonated through his chest, drowning out every other sound.

Her lips were soft and sweet, a taste of something forbidden, something intoxicating, a fleeting sensation that ignited a fire within him. He was about to pull her closer, to deepen the kiss, to explore the warmth and intimacy that beckoned, when she pulled back, her eyes dancing with amusement.

She glanced over at Angel, whose face was a mask of shock and anger, her eyes wide with disbelief, her lips parted in a silent gasp. Rory giggled, a soft, melodic sound that filled Logan's ears, "Well, that did it," she said, her voice filled with a playful satisfaction.

Logan stood there, stunned, his mind reeling, trying to process what had just happened. His lips tingled, the sweetness of her kiss still lingering, a phantom sensation that refused to fade. He could still taste her, the subtle flavor of something sweet and something else, something wild and untamed, a taste that lingered on his lips, a constant reminder of the moment. Now that he had gotten a taste of her, he wanted more. He wanted to feel her lips on his again, to explore the depths of her kiss, to lose himself in the intoxicating warmth of her embrace.

Before he could say anything, before he could even form a coherent thought, Connor ran up, throwing his arm around Logan's shoulders, his voice slurred with excitement. "Dude, you have to try this drink at the bar," he exclaimed, his eyes sparkling with drunken enthusiasm. "It's amazing!"

Connor pulled him towards the bar, away from Rory, his grip firm and insistent. Logan glanced back at Rory, who had a small, enigmatic smile on her face. Then, she turned and walked away, disappearing into the swirling crowd, leaving him standing there, his heart pounding in his chest.

Connor dragged Logan to the bar, where a group of people were gathered, laughing and talking, their faces flushed with alcohol and excitement. He thrust a glass into Logan's hand, the liquid inside a vibrant, swirling mix of colors, a potent concoction that promised a temporary escape from reality. "Try it!" he urged, his eyes sparkling with drunken enthusiasm.

Logan took a sip, the drink a potent mix of sweet and sour, a burst of flavor that momentarily distracted him from the lingering memory of Rory's kiss. The drink was strong, and he felt a warm buzz spreading through him, a pleasant sensation that chased away some of the tension he had been feeling.

The celebration continued, the music growing louder, the dancing more energetic, the laughter more uninhibited. Logan, caught up in the festive atmosphere, found himself laughing and talking with his people, his earlier anger and sadness fading into the background, replaced by a sense of camaraderie and shared joy.

He kept searching for Rory, his eyes scanning the crowd, but she was nowhere to be found. He wondered where she had gone, if she was still watching him, if she had thought about their kiss as much as he had. He wondered if it had meant anything to her, or if it had been a mere ploy, a calculated move to provoke Angel.

As the night wore on, the crowd began to thin, people heading to their rooms, exhausted from the festivities. Logan helped Connor to their room, who was incredibly drunk, his words slurred, his movements unsteady. Logan helped Connor into his bed, pulling the covers over him, a sense of camaraderie and affection washing over him, a reminder of the bonds that held their community together.

The dam now quiet and still, the echoes of laughter and music fading into the silence of the night. He lay down on his bed, placing his arms behind his head, staring at the ceiling, his mind replaying the events of the evening. He couldn't sleep. All he could think about was Rory's kiss.

It made him feel… strange, a mixture of exhilaration and confusion, a sense of longing that he couldn't quite comprehend. Even though he knew it was a calculated move, a ploy to make Angel jealous, he couldn't deny the effect it had on him. Her lips were soft and warm, a fleeting touch that had ignited a fire within him, a spark that threatened to consume him. He could still feel the tingling sensation on his lips, the phantom taste of her kiss, a constant reminder of the moment.

He replayed the moment in his mind, the way she had looked at him, her eyes sparkling with mischief, the way she had pulled him close, her hand cupping his neck, the way her lips had felt against his, soft and inviting. It was a brief moment, a stolen kiss, but it had left a lasting impression, a mark on his soul that refused to fade. He wanted to feel it again, to explore the connection that had sparked between them, to understand the feelings that were swirling within him, threatening to overwhelm him.

He knew that he was drawn to her, captivated by her strength, her beauty, her spirit. He was drawn to her mystery, her secrets, her untamed energy. He was drawn to the contrast between her and Angel, the difference between the familiar and the unknown, the predictable and the unpredictable.

He wondered if he was falling for her, if he was being foolish, if he was letting his emotions cloud his judgment. He wondered if he was ready to move on, to let go of the past and embrace the future, to open his heart to a new possibility.

He closed his eyes, the image of Rory's face filling his mind. Her eyes, sparkling with mischief, her lips, curved into a playful smile, her touch, a gentle caress that lingered on his skin. He fell asleep with her on his mind, a warmth spreading through him, a feeling that was both exhilarating and terrifying, a sense of anticipation for what the future held.