[ Jesse stares at the guy like he just got told to sit down during a fire drill. Go back inside? Seriously? He could’ve taken a knife to the face, and this guy would probably just shrug it off and keep walking. For a second, Jesse thinks maybe he’s hallucinating again, because who the hell just walks around weaponless in the dark during a blackout while people are screaming bloody murder? But nah, this dude’s real. Looks solid, older, and kind of weathered. Something about the way he moves tells Jesse he’s seen this kind of darkness before, and probably worse.

But still. Jesse’s pride flares just enough to hold his ground. He adjusts his grip on the ironing board before he sets it aside tentatively, leaning it up against the wall beside the door, still within reach. Maybe it'll make him look braver. Probably not. The lighter flickers in his hand, casting light and shadows on both their faces. Logan's expression doesn’t change. Jesse’s heart feels like it's beating louder than the silence when the lighter in his hand starts to sear heat into his fingers. ]

Ah, fuck!

[ He winces, flipping the Zippo shut with a sharp click, juggling the thing back and forth until it cools off enough to shove into his pocket. He shakes his hands out like that’ll quell the burn, giving Logan a stink eye like he's the one who burned him. ]

Go back inside? Nah, man. You seen horror movies? That’s how people die. First one to split off always gets the machete to the dome, and I ain’t about to be that guy tonight.