There was a sharp pounding in my skull and a soft hand caressing my curls in steady strokes. I let out a small groan as I forced my eyes open.
Logan was leaning over me with a soft expression on his face. His hand in my hair stilled as I stared at him. His expression alternated between anger, fierce protectiveness and worry.
I took in my surroundings and realized I was in our room- well, what used to be our room anyways. The chairs were turned over and I can see glass shards at the door of the bathroom. Wood splinters were sticking out of the door and the curtains had been ripped off and somehow replaced.
Logan had the decency to look a little sheepish, “I’ll fix the room; I promise.”
“It’s okay,” I murmured with a wonky smile but he didn’t return it, “Hey, what’s wrong?”
I tried to sit up but he stopped me, “Don’t; stay down.”
“I’m fine, Logan.” I told him as I sat up. His face showed that he didn’t agree with me. “What happened?”