FIC: Defying Metaphor
Title: Defying Metaphor
Characters: Logan/Veronica, lil' reference to Logan/Parker
Rating: R
Word Count: 633
Disclaimer: I don't own any aspect of Veronica Mars or its characters
Spoilers/Warnings: None that I can think of.
Summary: A look at how Logan's relationship with Veronica Mars evolves and devolves.
A/N: I'm practicing writing some VM fic (especially getting acquainted with Logan) before I undertake something epic for candlewaxdreams. Partially beta'ed by the good-looking dragynflies; all mistakes though are mine. Concrit totally encouraged!
Falling in love with Veronica Mars was like being strangled with a garrote. There'd be times he'd feel unable to breathe, times when he'd struggle just to function - eat, sleep, be overwhelmed by thoughts of Veronica, rinse, repeat. Just when he felt like finally dying, the feeling would finally relent. A weekend spent in Mexico, an evening getting shit-faced with friends, and he'd forget about her existence completely for a few brief hours. But then she'd enter his mind again when he'd least expect it: she'd be there in his dreams, gazing up at him with lips pursed and her eyes hard and hateful; with her ragged dyke haircut and steel-toed boots poised to kick his ass; or sometimes in her middle-school soccer uniform, cleats covered with mud and knees green with grass stains. When he remembered her like this, he thought for sure that love for her would kill him.
Being in love with Veronica Mars was like walking across shattered glass. When the sun caught them just right they were the golden couple, glittering and sparkling in the light, but there was hardship all around them. If he watched carefully enough where he was going, Logan could avoid the larger problems, navigate his way around them. In doing so, however, he almost always stepped on a shard he did not see, one small and unassuming and unnoticeable until it was already under his foot, pressed into the the sole of his foot. If he was slow and even enough, he could stand on these pieces, these tiny, unexpected problems, and they wouldn't break the skin; they'd merely push and push and push against the surface, a dull throbbing ache until he tried moving on. Balance was never Logan's forte, and more often than not he'd step squarely onto the sharp side of the shard and it would rip right into him.
Making love to Veronica Mars was like wrestling a wild animal. She was untamed and fierce, whether it happened in the bedroom, various other places in his suite, or the back of his Xterra. Only then, stripped of her clothes and her inhibitions, did she seem free of whatever concerns she might have otherwise dwelled on. It was just the two of them roughing each other up, and Logan had the scratch marks to prove it. It was just one of the reasons he liked to call her "Bobcat." But, as always with a wild animal, Logan had the niggling feeling that she was more afraid of him than he was of her.
Breaking up with Veronica Mars was like picking the scab off a festering wound. It stung to rip her out of his life like that, but he couldn't go on in such debilitating pain all the time. She needed him - his protection, his support, his embrace - but she denied it constantly, and her rejection cut him to the core. It was never intentionally hateful, but it felt like a continual pick-pick-pick that hurt a little more each time. When he decided to rip her out of his life all at once, he felt for the first time in a long time that he was free to relax, but once a scab is gone there's nothing to keep you from bleeding to death.
Logan found that living without Veronica Mars defied metaphor - it was, rather, an oxymoron. He didn't know why, but he stopped eating, he stopped sleeping, and he was sure that breathing would follow suit in time. Another blonde replaced her for a while, someone just as pretty and just as skinny and just as fucked up in a lot of ways. She could set his pulse racing, especially below the belt, but as far as sustaining a heartbeat... well, his heart was already too broken.
Characters: Logan/Veronica, lil' reference to Logan/Parker
Rating: R
Word Count: 633
Disclaimer: I don't own any aspect of Veronica Mars or its characters
Spoilers/Warnings: None that I can think of.
Summary: A look at how Logan's relationship with Veronica Mars evolves and devolves.
A/N: I'm practicing writing some VM fic (especially getting acquainted with Logan) before I undertake something epic for candlewaxdreams. Partially beta'ed by the good-looking dragynflies; all mistakes though are mine. Concrit totally encouraged!
Falling in love with Veronica Mars was like being strangled with a garrote. There'd be times he'd feel unable to breathe, times when he'd struggle just to function - eat, sleep, be overwhelmed by thoughts of Veronica, rinse, repeat. Just when he felt like finally dying, the feeling would finally relent. A weekend spent in Mexico, an evening getting shit-faced with friends, and he'd forget about her existence completely for a few brief hours. But then she'd enter his mind again when he'd least expect it: she'd be there in his dreams, gazing up at him with lips pursed and her eyes hard and hateful; with her ragged dyke haircut and steel-toed boots poised to kick his ass; or sometimes in her middle-school soccer uniform, cleats covered with mud and knees green with grass stains. When he remembered her like this, he thought for sure that love for her would kill him.
Being in love with Veronica Mars was like walking across shattered glass. When the sun caught them just right they were the golden couple, glittering and sparkling in the light, but there was hardship all around them. If he watched carefully enough where he was going, Logan could avoid the larger problems, navigate his way around them. In doing so, however, he almost always stepped on a shard he did not see, one small and unassuming and unnoticeable until it was already under his foot, pressed into the the sole of his foot. If he was slow and even enough, he could stand on these pieces, these tiny, unexpected problems, and they wouldn't break the skin; they'd merely push and push and push against the surface, a dull throbbing ache until he tried moving on. Balance was never Logan's forte, and more often than not he'd step squarely onto the sharp side of the shard and it would rip right into him.
Making love to Veronica Mars was like wrestling a wild animal. She was untamed and fierce, whether it happened in the bedroom, various other places in his suite, or the back of his Xterra. Only then, stripped of her clothes and her inhibitions, did she seem free of whatever concerns she might have otherwise dwelled on. It was just the two of them roughing each other up, and Logan had the scratch marks to prove it. It was just one of the reasons he liked to call her "Bobcat." But, as always with a wild animal, Logan had the niggling feeling that she was more afraid of him than he was of her.
Breaking up with Veronica Mars was like picking the scab off a festering wound. It stung to rip her out of his life like that, but he couldn't go on in such debilitating pain all the time. She needed him - his protection, his support, his embrace - but she denied it constantly, and her rejection cut him to the core. It was never intentionally hateful, but it felt like a continual pick-pick-pick that hurt a little more each time. When he decided to rip her out of his life all at once, he felt for the first time in a long time that he was free to relax, but once a scab is gone there's nothing to keep you from bleeding to death.
Logan found that living without Veronica Mars defied metaphor - it was, rather, an oxymoron. He didn't know why, but he stopped eating, he stopped sleeping, and he was sure that breathing would follow suit in time. Another blonde replaced her for a while, someone just as pretty and just as skinny and just as fucked up in a lot of ways. She could set his pulse racing, especially below the belt, but as far as sustaining a heartbeat... well, his heart was already too broken.