Sunshine || l.h. {complete}

Thirteen

author's note: sO i'm terrible let's leave it at that

also you'll probably hate me more after you read this chapter

happy reading :-) and don't forget to comment/review!! x

9:09 a.m.

Wednesday, November 22nd, 2014

"Luke!" Belle calls with a widespread grin on her face, walking towards him in the hallway. He wasn't at her locker this morning before class so she decided to go grab breakfast and come back; she figured he had something important to do.

The past two days have been so nice between the two of them. Luke has been wonderful. He's been concerned and touchy and somewhat protective, Belle notices the looks he gives other people who approach her. They hold hands all the time — underneath the lunch table, between classes, after school — and he walks her to the classes he can and they talk as much as possible and...

Belle thinks she likes him.

When she approaches him, her hand reaches up to tap him on the shoulder, a little giggle escaping her lips just at the sight of him.

"What?" he snaps when he turns, eyes cold.

Belle grins and reaches down, grabbing his hand, "Where were you this morning?"

He pulls his hand from her grasp and turns his face back to his backpack on the floor. "Busy," he mutters as if the response is insignificant. Belle glances down at his hand that's now curled into a trembling fist and then looks at her hand, palm open and receptive. Why did he brush me away? Her brow furrows, "What's wrong?"

Luke shakes his head and walks off, leaving her standing there in a now empty hallway. Instead of standing there in perplexity, Belle jogs up to catch him. "Hey," she calls, grasping his elbow and making him turn, "you can talk to me, Luke. We're friends, remember?" Belle nudges his shoulder, pulling on his arm again. Luke's demeanor is tense, rigid. He's angry and brooding and it's very attractive.

"Leave me alone, kid," he retorts sharply.

Belle steps back, her eyes instantly clouded, "Oh...o-okay then."

He looks sorry, his eyes foggy just like hers as he darts away to homeroom class, but he doesn't say anything and that just makes the situation worse. Belle's standing there and looking at her clothes and hands, trying to figure out where she went wrong. All good things must come to an end, but she thought things were going so well.

A tremor shakes its way up her bones, reaching her chest and she's afraid if she lets it become too violent it'll shatter her glass heart and spill forth tears. Her fists clench in a hopeless effort to try and hold in the trembling, as if she could create a dam to hold back the feelings of betrayal and hurt.

Of course he doesn't like me, she talks to herself as she forces her feet to pace down the tile hallway to homeroom, and I really shouldn't like him if he's going to be so abrasive and rude.

Belle tips her chin up, mentally chanting to suck it up and move along, he wasn't worth it anyways. She doesn't need him, she doesn't need anybody.

12:36 p.m.

Wednesday, November 22nd, 2014

She might not need him, but she wants him.

Belle wants him so badly he's like a drug and she's an addict. She never knew how much she'd miss having his brooding broad shoulders or his icy blue glare or his snarky comments until they were gone.