redamancy // l.h au

twenty-one

There was something comforting about sleeping in someone else's bed. If you set aside the little differences here and there of their bed and yours, it's a welcoming gesture. Letting someone sleep in a place where you have your dreams and your nightmares is somehow personal, but open.
I
woke in a bed that wasn't mine, which seems to happen more frequently nowadays.
My head was pounding, and it had taken a moment for me to adjust to the brightness from the open windows.

The images of last night came flooding in all at once; Luke's lips on my forehead, my cheeks, my nose. Surely, I was dreaming. I must've been. . . right?

I sat up abruptly, and the tangled mess of blankets and pillows nearly knocked me off the bed.
I looked over to the bedside table, seeing my cellphone plugged into it's charger. Sighing, I grabbed it, turning it on to check for any messages. Charlotte had texted me, and I hesitated to open it:

Charlotte: luke called me. Said you were staying over. Is everything okay?

She sent it an hour or two ago, and I typed back a reply, rubbing the sleep from my eyes:

Me: yeah im okay. Bit confused. Ill see u soon and explain

After pressing send, I tip toed to the bathroom near the doorway. When I opened the light, I nearly scared myself to the sight of bed head and smeared makeup.

"Jesus," I breathed out, running my fingers through the knots in my hair.

A knock on the door made me jump ten feet in the air, but I slowly opened it, revealing Luke.
He was dressed in flannel, his ripped skinny jeans, and his hair was perfectly "quiffed" as always. He smiled at me, a flush of pink reaching his cheeks. "I made you breakfast, when you're ready."

"Wow, Hemmings," I smirk, attempting to sound as casual as possible, considering my heart was lodged in my throat, "I didn't know you cooked."

"Well, it's eggs. I'm no Rachel Ray." He laughs, flipping his non-existent long locks.

"Do you have ketchup?" I ask, suddenly realizing how I look. Luke didn't seem to notice, even though his focus was locked on me.

"You eat ketchup with your eggs?" The boy tilts his head, and I nod. "I do, too."
We stood in awkward silence for a moment before he excused himself.

I brushed my teeth with my finger, and washed out my mouth several times with Listerine, before brushing out the tangles in my hair and smoothing down my outfit.

When I walk into the kitchen, Luke is peering into the fridge; a towel was draped over his shoulder and he seemed in deep thought.

He grabbed an orange juice, and I spoke, "Where are all the guys?"

Luke set the orange juice on the counter before looking up at me, "I'm guessing they all went over to Misty's."

"Do they always do this?" I ask, setting myself down in front of a plate of delicious sunny-side up eggs and ketchup. "Leave you here?"

Luke shrugs, "Technically, I left them."

"Still." I say, quietly. I pour myself a glass of orange juice as Luke settles into the seat directly in front of me, taking a bit of his breakfast. He chewed for a moment before I continues, "Have they called?" 

Luke's eyebrows knitted together as he shook his head, as if I should already be aware of this. "Don't need to. They're usually back by noon." 

I was taken aback by his blunt attitude; did he feel odd about the almost-kiss last night? I felt weird as well, but more so elated and happy, rather than regretful. I hoped Luke didn't feel the latter, or at least maybe he'd forgotten it completely. 

I nod, chewing on my eggs, and taking a sip of my drink. I scroll through my phone, avoiding Luke's eyes. I'm in the middle of stalking Kendall Jenner's instagram when he speaks up, though quietly at first. "I'm sorry about last night." He mumbled, "I shouldn't have-um, done anything." 

I was about to open my mouth to say the opposite, but he continues, "I know you said before that you didn't--that I wasn't--" He takes a deep breath, "I'm really sorry." 

"Your apologizing for nothing, again." I smile, and Luke's eyes widen in response. I say nothing more, finishing off my plate and rising from my chair to drop it off into the sink. I sip my orange juice until I've drained the glass and place it next to the plate. 

It was nearing ten in the morning now, and I knew I couldn't have gotten more than four hours of sleep. I yawned before I told Luke that I have to be on my way home. 

He smiled, and nodded, following me to the foyer. He watched as I shuffled on my shoes and jacket, opening the door, and muttering a goodbye. Before I closed it, however, I spoke up, on impulse. "Luke?"

"Hm?" He looks up from his laces and I swallow my pride. 

"If you ever hesitate when choosing between me and her," I start, breathless, "don't choose me." 

We both knew who I was talking about when I mentioned "her". I didn't see his reaction to my words, though, because I was already out the door and down the hallway. When I reached the elevator, heart pounding, my phone buzzed in my pocket. I expected it to be Charlotte, but instead it was Luke, giving me a comforting sense of Deja Vu: 

luke: i am yours.

I look up from my smartphone just in time to see Luke before the doors closed; he was leaning up against the wall next to his apartment door with a smile that reached his eyes. 

me: and i am yours 

luke:  :-)

me: STOP with the creepy face 

luke: :-)))))

me: im not urs anymore 

luke: :-((((((