Hazel's POV

It’s 5p.m when I decide to put on my trainers and go out for a jog. The ground outside is wet and the cool air smells fresh after all the heavy rainfall.

I think of a time when I loved the rain, because my mother loved it too. She thought it was the most magical thing about nature. And when I adored nature, I adored myself as part of it. As nothing but divinely and beautifully feminine just like my mother. But I lost touch of it a few years after she died, and never had a magical experience until… well until Logan showed up.

When I return home, it’s not dark, empty and silent like I subconsciously imagined it to be. Linda is relaxed on the barstool while Logan moves around the kitchen preparing dinner. It’s warm, and the smell of something delicious is wafting through the living room. I smile. “This never gets old,” I say as I join them.

“You’re back,” Logan states. He’s wearing a black apron that says ‘no bitchin’ in ma kitchen’ which makes me giggle. I never found it funny when Li