Page 10 of Written in Scars

The pizza arrived. They opened the box between them and took a huge slice each. Logan was ravenous and devoured it without a pause. Sam seemed to share his hunger, eating enthusiastically.

“It happened down there,” Sam said, finishing a slice, and pointing at the street. “About a hundred yards along the road.”

Logan looked at him quizzically before realising he meant the night he was stabbed.

“About one in the morning. We’d been having the best night. It was a Saturday, there was a big group of us out. I didn’t smoke but most of my friends did, so when they came outside for a cigarette, I joined them like I always did. It was dry and there were a lot of people smoking that night. Nothing out of the ordinary until this guy walking along the pavement, suddenly veered towards us. I didn’t even know I’d been stabbed. It happened so quickly, it took a while for the pain to register.”

“What was the motive? Homophobia?”

“Partly. Roy Lynn had a lot of mental health problems too. Paranoia, psychosis. He was on probation at the time for another assault but hadn’t been attending his appointments. He just slipped through the net until the night he turned up here with a knife.”

“You’re incredible,” Logan said at last. “To go through some much and still be so positive.”

He shrugged. “I have to be. No point dwelling and being miserable. I survived. My friend Benjamin wasn’t so lucky. The paramedics and doctors did all they could for him, but he lost too much blood. When I recovered from my injuries, I realised I had a lot to be grateful for. It wouldn’t be right to wallow in misery. I owed it to Benjamin to keep going.”

They continued talking as they finished the food. Conversation flowed easily as Sam asked him about his life, his work, his books. Logan told him everything, no topic was off limits. How it took so long for him to accept his sexuality. How he married a woman despite knowing he was gay.

“So how come you’re single now?” Sam asked. “You’ve got yourself straightened out. Got a great career. A house. How come there’s no boyfriend?”

Logan shrugged. “I often ask the same question. I hope it’s not because there’s anything freakishly wrong with me. I like to think it’s just because I haven’t met the right guy yet.”

“I know what that’s like,” Sam said, looking at the ring on his finger.

Once again silence sat between them.

Logan looked at Sam, wanting him with every part of his body, his spirit, and fighting it, knowing it would be wrong. Sam was married–in a bad place. Even if he finished with his fucked-up husband, he was vulnerable. Logan wouldn’t take advantage.

“Do you fancy me?” Sam asked at last.

“Yes,” he whispered.

“Can I come home with you?”

Oh, God, don’t do this to me. “That wouldn’t be a good idea.”

Sam leaned across the table, fixing him with those tiger eyes. “I want to.”

“You don’t know what–”

“Don’t say it,” Sam said, putting a hand on top of his. “After everything I’ve been through, I know exactly what I want.” He squeezed his hand. “And I want you.”

---