Prompt 29 / moonlight
Prompt 29 / moonlight
Title: Exposure
Author: Mari / geeky_apple
Disclaimer: I don’t own anything DA
Summary: The lamest idea ever, and probably done before.
Everybody was staring at him.
The whole room, filled with loose clusters of men and women in expensive evening attire, had gone quiet, the earlier flow of meaningless chatter yielding to a silence so complete that Logan was afraid even to swallow.
He had no idea what was wrong, but judging from the circle of openmouthed people surrounding him, he’d once more managed to shock Seattle’s upper crust.
There was Margo shaking her head in speechless disapproval, sharing a quick, angered glance with his uncle over this latest achievement in embarrassing them in front of their friends and business partners.
There was nosy Mrs. Miller, the Cales’ neighbour for decades, bending over to her husband with a hissed whisper signaling Logan that he’d be the topic of the neighbourhood gossip for the next weeks.
There was Marianne’s admiring amusement, somewhat mirrored by Bennett whose creased brow and tiny smirk displayed the typical concerned adoration towards his nonconformist cousin.
Only Max, stunning in her carmine dress, stuck out in the mass of gaping faces. Seemingly unaware of the discomfort around her, her expression showed no sign of dismay, was in contrary relaxed into completely unabashed, dreamy appreciation.
It was her absentminded focus on a spot somewhere around his sternum that made Logan look down. And suddenly he understood: He wore no shirt, was completely naked from the waist up except for the silk bowtie that suddenly was terribly tight.
Forcing his lips into a tight, apologetic smile, Logan’s hand blindly groped behind his back as if his shirt and jacket had just somehow retreated into the back pocket of his chair. But instead of finding the expected sensation of cool nylon, his knuckles connected with solid wood…
… and suddenly he was safely in his bed, his chest exposed from all his tossing and turning, the pale moonlight revealing an empty room blessedly void of prying eyes.
The faintly glowing alarm clock showed 4:16, and so, with a frowned sigh at the absurd products of his over-worked brain, Logan rolled onto his side to get some more sleep. Lazily he pulled the sheet up over his head in an overt need to cover every inch of naked skin and banished the memory of Max’s enthralled ogling with the considerably safer thought that maybe he should start wearing a shirt in bed.
Title: Exposure
Author: Mari / geeky_apple
Disclaimer: I don’t own anything DA
Summary: The lamest idea ever, and probably done before.
Everybody was staring at him.
The whole room, filled with loose clusters of men and women in expensive evening attire, had gone quiet, the earlier flow of meaningless chatter yielding to a silence so complete that Logan was afraid even to swallow.
He had no idea what was wrong, but judging from the circle of openmouthed people surrounding him, he’d once more managed to shock Seattle’s upper crust.
There was Margo shaking her head in speechless disapproval, sharing a quick, angered glance with his uncle over this latest achievement in embarrassing them in front of their friends and business partners.
There was nosy Mrs. Miller, the Cales’ neighbour for decades, bending over to her husband with a hissed whisper signaling Logan that he’d be the topic of the neighbourhood gossip for the next weeks.
There was Marianne’s admiring amusement, somewhat mirrored by Bennett whose creased brow and tiny smirk displayed the typical concerned adoration towards his nonconformist cousin.
Only Max, stunning in her carmine dress, stuck out in the mass of gaping faces. Seemingly unaware of the discomfort around her, her expression showed no sign of dismay, was in contrary relaxed into completely unabashed, dreamy appreciation.
It was her absentminded focus on a spot somewhere around his sternum that made Logan look down. And suddenly he understood: He wore no shirt, was completely naked from the waist up except for the silk bowtie that suddenly was terribly tight.
Forcing his lips into a tight, apologetic smile, Logan’s hand blindly groped behind his back as if his shirt and jacket had just somehow retreated into the back pocket of his chair. But instead of finding the expected sensation of cool nylon, his knuckles connected with solid wood…
… and suddenly he was safely in his bed, his chest exposed from all his tossing and turning, the pale moonlight revealing an empty room blessedly void of prying eyes.
The faintly glowing alarm clock showed 4:16, and so, with a frowned sigh at the absurd products of his over-worked brain, Logan rolled onto his side to get some more sleep. Lazily he pulled the sheet up over his head in an overt need to cover every inch of naked skin and banished the memory of Max’s enthralled ogling with the considerably safer thought that maybe he should start wearing a shirt in bed.