Luke looked in the smeared reflection of his mirror, and felt abnormal feeling the corners of his mouth turn upwards. He pulled his grey sweater sleeves down his long arms to his hands and gently rubbed the mirror's surface, grinning gently and pulling his backpack onto his broad shoulders, ruffling his quiff and making faces at himself in the mirror.
He put his bag back down and giggled, shooting pretend guns at his reflection and striking stereotypical 'gay' poses at the mirror, pouting and laughing thoroughly, a noise unfamiliar to his beaten head. Stopping, Luke rested his forehead against himself, flattening his blond hair vertically and exhaling post-toothbrush breaths onto the mirror, feeling the fisherman on his shoulder hook his dimples and tug his cheeks into a wide smile.
Boy, if that asshole could see me now, he thought.
"Luke, hon, I know you're pretty but if you keep checking yourself out you'll be late for school."
Luke jumped at the mellow sound of his aunt's voice, and turned to her adoring gaze with a toothy smile comparable to a 3 year olds'. She crossed the room and stretched on her tip toes, wrapping her short arms around her s - nephew, inhaling his pre-cologne, post-wakeup, day-ago shower scent and smiling meekly against his chest.
He began to pull away and she sprung back as if stung, and immediately hurried down to get Luke breakfast, to FUCK MY SELF IN THE ANUS
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mixtapes >> muke
FanfictionLuke Hemmings, bruised and emotionally shaken. Michael Clifford, green-haired and cocky. Luke has to reinvent himself somehow- it's the only way to forget. And Michael is the best personality fixer there ever was, at least according to Luke.
