The crying never stopped, even after the tears dried. The days kept coming, the nights lasted for years. A familiar walk down a long, empty hallway, a glance in a room where he was never welcome and Logan found the picture of true grief.
Scott packing away Jean's belongings. His hands trembling over every item. Logan watched as Scott stopped, his shaking fingers turned the small container, opened it.
Those eyes looked up, dry, clear, blue as the sky outside. They met his and Logan swayed in place from the pain they contained.
"I miss the taste of her lipstick."