Self-Destruction • Luke Hemmings

Chapter 46

The past two days - Monday and Tuesday, have been average. Luckily on Monday Michael was okay with me sitting with Luke. He also said that Ashton could play drums and that they were going to carry on the band without me as before I had said that it wasn't my thing. To be honest, I had forgotten that I said I'd be in their band.

But yesterday Luke proposed we go on a fancy date, even though we're already boyfriend and girlfriend. And I'm still in bed and am pretty sure I should be getting ready. I yawn and grab my phone, trying to work out how long it will take me to get ready. I look at the screen. 3:23. I have little less than four hours. Considering Luke said I need to look 'fancy' that should be enough time. I hope.

I quickly take a shower, shaving everywhere because you can never be too sure what's going to happen. Not that I'd think we'd go all the way yet.

I decide to wear a midi length pale pink silk dress which I found at the back of my wardrobe. To match I chuck on some black heels. I also put on a lot more makeup than I feel comfortable wearing, this includes; eyeliner, foundation, drawn on eyebrows, lipstick, blusher, mascara...everything really. I almost put on fake eyelashes, but decide against it.

When I'm finally ready, I feel like a totally different person, I don't know whether this is a good thing or a bad thing, though. I receive a text from Luke saying he's outside, so I scan myself one last time in the mirror, then leave.

"Wow, hello gorgeous." He greets me, grinning sexily out of the window of his car. I roll my eyes, but check him out at the same time. His hair is in the usual quiff, maybe neater than usual, he's wearing black ripped jeans, a white shirt and a black leather jacket. He basically looks like sex.

"Seriously, you look beautiful." He grins when I sit in the passenger seat. I like that he never gets out to open the door for me. He probably doesn't considering the first time I almost bit his head off, listing off why I was perfectly capable of opening a door.

"As do you, Mr Hemmings." I fake a posh accent, and he starts giggling.

"Have I ever told you how much I adore your cute little accent." He says, pulling off of the drive.

"I don't think you have." I hum, tapping my hand to the beat of the green day song playing, 21 guns.

"Well I do. I also love your eyes, and the fact you have to wear glasses, but always wear contact lenses..." He lists but I interrupt him.

"How do you know I have to wear glasses?" I frown.

"Photos of you wearing them, and I saw you put in your lenses a while ago. Can I continue?" He shrugs, I also shrug.

"I love the fact you don't dress up that much, and still look beautiful. Saying that you look beautiful wearing makeup as well as not wearing it. But it's not all about your looks, I love your carefreeness, and your confidence, I just love you." He smiles fondly at me, and I blush and smile timidly back.

"Cheers, babe." I joke, trying not to dwell on his little rant.

"Where are we going?" I ask, realising I still don't know.

"McDonald's." He grins at me. I look at him dumbly for a second, then realise he's joking and mumble about how I hate surprises.

"I think you'll like this though." He smiles to himself.

After about 15 more minutes of driving, he pulling outside of what is clearly a restaurant.

"What's this?" I ask, looking at the grand building.

"Maybe the poshest, wait, most sophisticated, restaurant in the Southern Hemisphere, maybe the world." Luke grins childishly. I smile at his child-like enthusiasm, it's adorable.