[He is not giving her his hand. He looks at it, feels the pull to, but - there's something about her that strikes a chord in him. A femininity, a care - it's like she's there looking at him, reaching out with the same desire to look him over but in a lab coat and her red hair tied up. He doesn't pull away though, either, because Logan's got a stupid crux in the form of women being much harder to tell to fuck off and go away - he's done it but it's never worked out the way he wanted. They often die.
He has his hands by his sides, fingers flexing. He feels the ache in his muscles already, but rolls his shoulders and gives a shrug.]
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He has his hands by his sides, fingers flexing. He feels the ache in his muscles already, but rolls his shoulders and gives a shrug.]
I know. I'm fine.