Title: Your Heart is an Empty Room
Author: Marianna
Characters: Logan, Veronica. Lilly mentions. Allusions to Aaron and Lynn.
Spoilers/Warnings: Everything up to this point would probably be good, especially the preview for next week. If you haven't seen it though, even though it's referenced, you can seriously just file this anywhere under Logan and Veronica do angst!fic.
Word Count: 533
Rating: R, for language
Summary: Cut straight out of the preview for next week's episode. Full of speculation, so don't read it if you don't want to know what I think will happen, which is this. Very angsty. Also written for the 100_situations prompt 'choke'.
Author's Notes: None.




He has never been so aware of silence in his entire life.



Even when Lilly died, and his world was suddenly filled with sweeping shadows and empty voids and darkness, there was always something. The cracking sound of a belt maybe, or sometimes the clink of ice cubes against glass; not the pleasantest of memories, but something to hold onto; some goddamned noise.



It’s so quiet now, he’s choking on it and she’s not looking at him, and her bottom lip is bleeding, and her fists are balled up so tight at her sides that her knuckles are turning white.



He wants to yell. He wants to scream at her, to tell him, to say the words; I don’t love you, Logan, but he can’t, because he’s so tired, he’s so fucking sick and tired of this game that they’re not really playing, and he just wants it to stop.



Get out; is all he manages, and even that’s weary, the sounds of his words making creaking noises as they slip past his lips. Her eyes are wide as she turns back to face him, her face the very picture of surprise.



He can’t imagine why that is. He’s not surprised.



He’s expecting something from her. A witty retort, or maybe something scathing, but as she reaches the door, he knows nothing will come. Her chin is wobbling as she turns back to look at him for less than a fraction of a second.



Normally he would want to know what was going through her mind. How she could possibly be leaving him like this? How she could possibly not love him after the hell they’ve been through together? How can she not feel what he feels? It makes him want to burst inside, and yell at her, and shake her and make her see-but as it is, all he really wants is for her to leave so he can drown out his sorrows and not have to look at her anymore.



I’ll leave the key with the front desk; she says quietly, and her voice is filled with things like resignation, and maybe a little relief. He isn’t sure.



The door clicks shut loudly, and the sound resonates loudly through the suite, winding itself around him. This wasn’t what he’d been looking for when he’d wanted a change from the silence.



He throws his head back, fingers reaching forward for the bottle of water he’d grabbed out of the mini fridge before she’d even gotten there. It’s still cold, and he wonders if it was her intention to do this today, if she’d known it would be so quick, and so easy, and so relatively painless.



The plastic is cool around his fingers, and as he gulps it down, he can feel the tears sluicing down his cheeks. He doesn’t move to wipe them away, he doesn’t even move, and he wonders if he’s still breathing, and if he’s not, if it’ll kill him.



The door, firmly shut, keeps the silence locked into the room, and he knows what it means. He’s always known-he even kind of expected it at this point.



It’s over.



He wonders if it even ever really started.