"Hey mum," I greet, turning away from the flashing cameras behind me as the photographers are pushed aside by the building security. It wasn't often that I got caught in the crosshairs of news or media, seeing as the announcement of my family business take-over hadn't even come out yet, but news of me graduating, and getting the necessary degree was enough to have people in a panic over the inheritance of my parents business. Photos didn't bother me much anyway, not with my mom's growing fashion line and terrible need to have me and Logan model her clothes at any given opportunity. There were no complaints from me though, not when Logan could wear silk that made his tan skin shine appealingly.

"Tripp, honey," She greets in that overly-sweet voice of hers that lets me know (warns me, really) that she's about to ask for a favor. I sigh softly, making my way over to my (our, if you include the love of my life) apartment. Seeing as I would take over my parents business, starting with the company in the west, me and Logan had decided to move out of the house and into an apartment closer to said company. "Do you think you and Logan can come down here this weekend for the Summer Photoshoot?"

"Can it wait till next week? You know our graduation is next Wednesday." There's a curse coming from the kitchen as I make my way inside the apartment. I can't help the soft (kinda creepy) smile that makes its way onto my face as I loosen my tie and make my way over to the sound. Logan had started to cook a year into our relationship (better late than ever am I right) and even though he's improved drastically, his patience is constantly tested with the task.

My heart stops (like it always does when I see him) as I take him in. Logan's wearing a muscle shirt with the logo of the gym where he works at printed over the back, and shorts that fall just below his ass. He's taken to wearing them more often, especially since he became a trainer, since it helps with the demonstration of exercises to his clients.

It also helped me (not) keep my hands off him.

Ever the one for dramatics; my mom lets out a long whine before going off on a tangent as to why she needs me and Logan there ASAP. I hum in agreement whenever her tone lilts into a questioning one as I press my chest against Logan's back. He easily eases back against me, turning to peck my jaw when he sees that I'm on the phone. An excited noise leaves him when he realizes who's on the other line and he's quick to turn around and steal the phone from me - leaving me with kitchen duty once more.

When he comes back, he jumps onto the counter next to the stove, grinning. A fond sigh escapes me as I take him in again, he's so handsome. "We're going to your moms photoshoot this weekend."

A snort escapes me, "Of course we are. What did she bribe you with this time?"

"Bribe me?" Logan asks, tone entirely innocent as he peeks at the food. Like in highschool, he had decided to dye his hair again, this time a light brown. It works to make his eyes gleam more. I throw him a teasing grin.

"Yeah, like the last three times where she bribed you with a new phone, a week-long trip to Canada, and oh! How could I forget the lingerie pack that isn't even out yet." Although there's no complaints on any of them, not really (and definitely not on the last one, since Logan wanted to try something that would "spice" up our evening), they all work to serve my point, something that I have (admittedly) gotten better at doing.

Putting his fingers up like he has some sort of defense, Logan shakes his head. "In my defense-" Called it. "I needed a new phone, a trip to Canada, and lingerie. What? Are you telling me you didn't like any of those presents?"

God, I want to kiss him just to shut him up. And I could (can), whatever, but the food is most important. Turning my attention back to said food, I pout, grasping for another argument. "I really don't know why you needed a new phone."

"Babe," He sighs, easing his head back to look at the very interesting kitchen ceiling. "I broke the camera of my old phone, remember? I got the new one to send you nudes during courses."

And really, how am I supposed to argue with that? Those photos were sent with purpose, and I loved them. Not being able to hold back anymore, I step in front of him quickly, dipping my head to press our lips together. Logan lets out a soft, sweet-filled sigh, returning the touch easily and chasing me until I remember the task-at-hand and reluctantly pull away.

"What did she bribe you with?" I repeat when we pull away, and he sighs, finally giving in.

"She has given me permission to give Kyle and Monroe the dorm house for their stay at the university, rather than struggle to find a dorm or apartment accommodation." The food is finished, so I quickly turn off the stove and move it aside in favor of standing between Logan's thighs. He accepts me instinctively, wrapping his legs around my waist, and combing one of his hands through my hair. Nothing has changed about me appearance wise, the only thing changing being a subtly grown stubble. Where before I had always deemed it necessary to shave, I decided to see how it would look growing out. And there haven't been any complaints from Logan who always finds a way to rub his skin across the prickles of hair.

I snort against the skin of his neck because - "You know she would've done it anyways, right? Without having to hold something over your head?"

"Yeah. But I feel bad asking for favors, and this makes it feel like a win-win situation." Logan reasons, cupping my face so that our eyes meet. "And besides, it's not like we have anything to do this week. We already verified our graduation date and planned for it, you shouldn't worry too much - that's my job."

He does have a point, but I don't tell him that, instead wrapping my arms around his torso and falling back into his shoulder, inhaling the sweet smell that is purely Logan.

-

There are times that I think about what would've happened if we had never moved here. If we had left our chances up to fate in the selection of dorm rooms, or if Logan hadn't been accepted into the university I got into. The memory of him coming into my highschool during a random lunch afternoon just to give me his acceptance papers never fails to send me into a wreck of fluttery emotions. He had never been one to shy away from our friendship, instead broadcasting it to all those who were around. Even now, as boyfriends and lovers, he doesn't hesitate to link our arms together, or kiss me in public, or tell me he loves me at any given second of the day (despite it making me cry at every given moment).

And while that seems like something almost everyone could do, I know he struggled with himself and his father for a large part of it. We have both struggled, it all brings me back to the (my) actions the night of moving had made it almost painful to breathe for the following weeks, and I regretted my very existence. I suppose that's common with life; the regret of actions that can;t be taken back. What if we hadn't made-out? Or: What if I had come out as gay instead of bi? Or: What if I had told him that one time that the person I loved was him instead of making it this big, great mystery to have him open up to me?

All these questions, all of these possibilities, have regret in them.

People will say that there was another way to go about it, the right way, but I don't think such a way exists. Everyone's opinions work to cloud the result of the actions for the belief that something better could have been achieved if different measures (actions) were taken. But I don't think that is the case. I think that everything that occurred, has all worked to lead us up to this point. And that the result of me and Logan being together is the best outcome, there isn't anything better that could have come of it.

Logan and I are graduating together, and even when we have been stuck at the hip far before college, I don't think I can imagine a day without him by my side. He seems to feel the same way, leaning closer to whisper, "You need to stop looking at me like I'm your world and look at the cameras, babe. Your mom wants to see at least one decent picture of us enjoying the celebration."

"Impossible." I argue with a grin, not tearing my face from his. "You are my world." His cheeks turn a pretty pink at the blunt statement and he smacks my shoulder in an attempt to hide his embarrassment. "And besides, we always look decent."

"I guess you're right." He mumbles weakly, linking our arms together. A second passes before he turns to look at me again, eyes swarming with pure fondness. It makes my heart do this weird (annoying, quite frankly) thing where it speeds up. Yup, that hasn't changed at all in the past 3 and-a-half years. "Thank you, Tripp."

"For what?"

"For being with me, for being you, for loving me, and letting me draw on your skin too." He lists off quickly, averting his gaze when he finishes. I grip his arm tighter, only vaguely paying attention to my surroundings enough to know what is going on but not looking away from him.

"I deserve you, Logan." I whisper, after identifying the flicker of doubt that twinkled in his eyes. Logan let's out a long sigh at the words, turning to smile as a flash of a camera flashes across his face. After the last therapy session, Logan had become more stable mentally, the case with Kai and Logan's father seemed to be more of a case of closure for Logan. His doubts were reasoned, and ceased, and he worked with himself to stop caring about the opinion of someone who didn't care about him.

I had my doubts as well. Voices of guilt that would torture me into thinking that I wasn't enough for Logan. They were quickly thrown out the window (adios, losers) with Logan's sweet words, and soft touches, and reaffirmations that it was me he wanted.

"And I deserve you, Tripp." He says with a grin, and tears brimming the rim of his eyes.

And really, we're the only ones that need to know that, no outside opinion needed.