𝐥𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 → 𝐥𝐮𝐤𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐦𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬

19. leather jacket

friday,
october 15th, 2020

LUKE HEMMINGS

"Alright," Calum's voice snaps, capturing my attention for once, "What is it? Hm?"

"What?" I breathe, turning to face him properly and gripping my pint glass in my hand.

"Is it a girl?" he asks, confused, "Do you want to get laid? I can get you laid. Look, the blonde over th—"

I scoff, "Shut the fuck up."

Cal raises his hands in question, scowling at me, "Then what is it? Because you haven't been listening to me all night."

I frown, "That isn't true."

But it is true. And it's got nothing to do with Calum, I actually find him one of the most tolerable people I've met, as much as I'd like to lie about that. It's just got everything to do with the pretty girl sitting across the bar with her friends, in such a stunning little dress that she looks so lovely in.

Cal raises an eyebrow, knowing that even I don't believe myself.

I sigh, "I'm sorry," I say, and I actually am, "I'm just, distracted."

He nods, thick eyebrows raising high on his forehead, "I can tell, mate. Who is that?"

I snap my head towards him and he's nodding over to the table Ezra is sitting at. I follow his gaze, softening at the sight of her as she laughs with Lola. I shake my head, straightening up.

"What?" I say quietly, "Nobody. No. I don't know," I stutter, avoiding eye contact at all costs and bringing my drink to my lips to gulp half of what's left down.

Cal only laughs, "Oh please."

I clear my throat. It isn't like me to be such a fool over a girl, so nervous yet so addicted to her presence. But she makes me feel so... different. Different to anything anybody's ever made me feel, and that alone is fucking intoxicating.

She's so good, but I don't think she'd let anyone take advantage of that — of her kindness — and she's so intelligent. I couldn't get over her essay, how eloquent her writing is. She's fantastic at English, which only draws me to her even more. Even the fact that we have similar music taste and our humour is on the same spectrum intrigues me. Not to mention how fucking gorgeous she is.

"So," Calum says again, slowly and teasingly, "Who is she?"

I look over at her again, this time she's taking a shot and wincing at the taste. I stifle a chuckle, looking back at my own drink and gliding my thumb along the side of the glass, collecting condensation.

I sigh, "She's my student," I tell him honestly.

He coughs, "What?" His brown eyes widen and I nod my head. "Well fuck."

"Well fuck indeed," I purse my lips in thought before knocking back some more of my beer.

Calum belts out a laugh, catching the attention of a few bystanders and earning a scowl from myself. I roll my eyes, asking the bartender for another drink.

"Well this is fantastic!" he enthuses, smiling widely.

My eyebrows tug inwards in annoyance, "How the fuck is that fantastic, Calum?"

"Because," he exaggerates, "You can see her all the time!"

I scoff, "Yeah. In a fucking class of, like, 40 other students. That's not even the point, Cal."