𝐥𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 → 𝐥𝐮𝐤𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐦𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬

59. that girl of yours

friday,
january 14th, 2021

LUKE HEMMINGS

My head hurts.

Everything always fucking hurts without her.

It's been almost two whole weeks since she confessed to me in my car that she may be falling in love with me. What does that even mean? Does it mean she potentially isn't in love with me? Did she mean for it to just float around in the air, open to interpretation and certain to twist my heart in all directions?

"I fucking love her," I determinedly growl, tossing back another shot and Cal pats my back from the barstool next to mine.

"Can we prioritise your liver right now?" Calum mutters, handing me a glass of water he must've ordered, "You're never gonna get to dramatically profess your love for her if your liver is fucked."

I honestly have zero recollection of even getting to this bar. I don't know how much I've drank and I can't bare to think of how I'll feel in the morning. All I know is that I wouldn't know what to do with myself if it weren't for Calum Hood.

"I love you man," I mumble, pressing my palm to my forehead in attempt to cool me down. I take a sip of the water too. "God, fuck, you're always just there. Always fuckin'—" I interrupt myself with a drunken hiccup, "Always fuckin' there for me, Cal."

Calum chuckles from beside me and I'm sure my nausea is brought on by disgruntled images of Ezra swimming through my mind and the thought of even living another day without her.

Dramatic, I know. But I'm so hopelessly in love with the girl that I'd do anything to get her back.

Anything.

Shit.

"I'm quitting Riverside," I declare, shooting up from my seat and shrugging on my leather jacket, "That's it, I'm— 'm done. Rocky Ravensfield can find another fighter. Won't be better than me but—"

"Okay, okay," Cal cuts me off, grabbing the collar of my jacket and dragging me back down into the chair, "Luke, breathe. You're fucking drunk as shit and you're not thinking straight. You aren't quitting Riverside right now."

I start to feel sweaty and frantic, messily pulling off my jacket once again as my breathing heightens, "Cal, Cal I gotta quit the ring. I need her in my life. D'you not see how fucking in love with her I am? Fuck."

"Hey, I know," Cal says, placing the glass of water in my hands. The condensation cools me down a little and I breathe in relief. "Anyone on this planet could tell you're head over heels for the girl. I know better than anyone. And if you want to quit boxing for her then you need to do that with a clear head, not after you've downed four pints and countless shots."

I nod my head, taking a shaky breath and gulping down some water. I slowly lower myself to sit back down in the cushioned stool, my heart rate evening out.

When I next look at Cal, I feel a bit sick to my stomach at the pitiful look he wears. I frown, my lips pursed as I avoid eye contact with the brunette.

"How'm I gonna see her Tuesday?" I exasperatedly sigh, bringing a palm to my face and eliciting a low groan, "Fuck. What am I supposed to do when she's sittin' there all pretty in my fuckin' classroom?"

I'm back teaching on Tuesday after a long Christmas break. The fact that I don't have Ezra's class on Mondays gives me an extra day to prepare myself to see her, I guess. Even though I don't know how I'm supposed to feel ready to see her when the last time I did, she told me how she's falling in love with me.