The Kents

Twenty One

I literally and physically march into Luke's room at 11 AM in the morning. I wasn't planning to execute my casual midnight plan but Luke never sleeps in so late and I kind of sort of got worried. So here I was taking one stride after the other. I stop right before I'm completely in his room and pop my head from behind the compartment to take a peak.

My hairs stood at the unbelievable temperature of this guy's room and at the thrill that currently rushed through my body.

He lay dormant on his bed the duvet covered the lower part of his body. His back shirt was a bit rolled up, showing some on his abdomen's skin. I really began thinking of this as a bad idea. I wouldn't want to wake Luke Kent up. Maybe Erik was joking but I'd bet my fifteen million that Luke wouldn't hesitate killing and burying me under his bed. If anything, he'd do it with a smile.

So I obediently forfeit, by quietly walking myself out of his room and heading downstairs.

Scott has awoken and left to his grandmother's, while Erik was still sleeping. So I decide to bake more of my mom's wonderful muffins. This time I go for Raspberries instead of Blueberries.

At 12:15, I hear someone's footsteps on the stairway.

It was Luke's and he walked with his eyes closed and his hand caressing the back of his head. I start to think he is sleepwalking but he reaches the kitchen counter and takes a seat on the high stool then his head falls into both his hands. No one goes that far sleeping...

"Coffee, please." He implores his voice hoarse.

I pour him a cup of the readymade black coffee and place it in front of him.

"Hung over I suppose?" I tease.

He lifts his head and when his eyelids separate, I was being glared at by two pools of emerald that were surrounded by discomfort and redness.

But really? What type of a hangover was this?

"Shhht-" He shushes me with a finger then turns his attention to the cup of coffee.

I tear my gaze away from him and walk away, back to arranging my muffins in the big basket.

I catch him glancing at me more than once between his lashes.

I glance at him too and this time our eyes meet. He keeps the contact for a while and then his eyes drift to the basket of muffins.

He points at it, and then at a vacant place in front of him.

I beam at him and then at my muffins.

"One for five bucks." I smirk, protectively taking the side of my basket.

"I'll buy-em all." He says with the same serious face of his and taps on the place where he wants me to place the basket.

I wanted to see that smirk of his again.

So I stall...

I pick one muffin up and walk towards him.

I wait for him to reach for it but he doesn't. Instead, he nonchalantly sips on his coffee.

Oh that pride of yours...

I teasingly peel off the muffin's paper and wait for his response.

"If I finish my cup of coffee, and you-" I chuckle midsentence.

He turns to look at me.

"Hand it over." He deadpans. I shake my head smiling at him.

He sighs, and then throws an attempt of rising and leaving but I block him when he rises and then peevishly hand it to him.

He sits back up again and continues peeling the muffin. His face still so expressionless! Ugh!