𝐥𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 → 𝐥𝐮𝐤𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐦𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬

28. little venice

friday,
november 5th, 2020

EZRA GREYSTONE

From: Luke:
I'm outside, pretty girl

I practically beam at the sight of his text, typing a short reply before tucking my new camera into my tote bag, just in case I find anything photography worthy for my portfolio while we're out.

I spritz some of my favourite Jo Malone before grabbing my keys and leaving my little flat. I lock up, heading for the elevator and making my way down to the ground floor, which doesn't take long at all.

I weave through the common area, exiting through the doors and instantly spotting Luke's Range Rover parked across the street.

I inhale deeply, descending the few steps outside and safely crossing the road. It's as if he senses me coming, because he's out of his seat and opening the passenger door for me before I can do it for myself.

I bite my lip, "Behind me is a building full of students," I comment, "Many of which are in your class."

Luke gets what I'm hinting at, but all he does is smirk, "Rules are made to be broken, darling. And you look gorgeous."

I cock my head to the side, trying to act unimpressed but I can't fight the smile that overwhelms me. He reciprocates, gesturing for me to climb in to his car. I do so, getting comfortable and strapping in while he closes the door and returns to his side of the car. He slides in, shutting the door and turning on the heat.

"Get comfy, we've got a forty-five minute drive," Luke tells me, reaching out to grab the back of my chair to look over his shoulder.

After a swift three point turn, we're on our way and I begin to warm up thanks to his heating system, "You're going to make me wait forty-five minutes to see where we're going?" I say, impatient already.

Luke looks over at me as he slows to a red light, "Patience is a virtue, sweetheart."

I roll my eyes yet I'm smiling so wide I'm afraid my cheeks will ache by the end of the night and it's only just begun.

I flick on the radio, noticing how Luke's bluetooth is connected and it seems like his entire history of liked songs are on shuffle.

As Luke drives, flicking the indicator and changing gears every few moments, I'm sort of enamoured with the way he looks. His hair is curled to utter perfection and he's wearing dark grey slacks with a paler grey knitted sweater. His black and white Converse are characteristically laced on his feet and his silver rings glitter against the wheel in the streetlights. He looks brilliantly accustomed to the cold weather and his scent radiates freshness.

"I can feel you staring," Luke mutters, a smirk forcing his lips to curve upwards and I sink into the leather seat, looking forward instead.

"Sorry," I fumble out.

My breath hitches when Luke reaches a hand towards me, lacing his lengthy fingers with mine. He clutches my hand tightly and I sneak another glance at him. He looks prideful as he takes my hand and brings it to his lips to kiss my skin. I bite my lip, obsessed with this view and he settles our hands back in my lap comfortably.

He flicks his head towards me momentarily, grinning, "You're so fuckin' cute, Ezra," he sighs, almost as if it pains him to confess this.

I giggle, squeezing his hand absentmindedly, "Likewise, Lu."

It's Luke's turn to bite his lip and he shakes his head, "I like when you call me that."

"You do?" I whisper shyly, twisting his rings around his fingers and admiring the generous size of his hands.