sunshine | l.r.h

thirteen

chapter thirteen:

peace offering

Luke hates asking for favors but he's willing to make an exception this once. His foot taps against the tile as he waits for Ashton to come into the living room. Minutes feel like hours until the redhead finally comes out. Ashton's brows furrow as he finds Luke waiting on the couch. Luke's always been an early riser but he's always outside when Ashton gets up.

"You okay?" Ashton questions, walking past him into the kitchen. Luke follows him.

"Yeah, I just, uh," Luke stumbles over the words. "I'm sorry about the other day. I was an ass."

Ashton shrugs, looking up at the young boy in front of him. "I deserved it. I shouldn't have told you to end it with Delilah."

"I get it," Luke nods. Ashton knows he doesn't. Luke won't know what it's like to try and protect someone he sees as a little brother. He won't know how guilty Ashton feels for dragging him into this life in the first place.

"I just want you to know that you're not on your own," Ashton continues, grabbing milk out of the fridge. "We all have each other, okay?"

"Yeah," Luke nods. He feels like a child being scolded after a tantrum. He can't help but see the argument from the previous night as just that. A tantrum.

"You've been through a lot, Luke. You're gonna react to things a bit differently than others," Ashton comforts. Luke knows Ashton means his tendency to push people away. Ashton's seen what Luke's been through first-hand. He'd do anything to keep him from going through it again.

As much as Luke hates it, he decides to just rip off the bandaid. "Can I ask for a favor?"

"What's up?" Ashton inquires, grabbing cereal out of the cabinet. He glances up at Luke as he pours the cereal and milk into a bowl.

"Do you have Natalia's number?" Luke asks, biting the inside of his cheek. Ashton's brows furrow as he looks back at Luke.

"Possibly," Ashton draws out, "Why?"

"I need to text her," Luke answers vaguely. A spark appears in Ashton's eyes that tells Luke he's not gonna live this down.

"For?" Ashton continues.

"I want to ask her where Delilah's studio is," Luke mumbles, almost ashamed at the request. Ashton grins lightly.

"Why can't you ask Delilah?" Ashton inquires, dunking a spoon into the cereal.

"Cause I may not have left off on the right foot," Luke sighs, pulling one of his legs onto the chair with him. Ashton hasn't seen this side of Luke in what feels like years.

"Alright, fine," Ashton gives in, pulling out his phone. "But you owe me."

Three knocks on the studio door catch Delilah's attention over the music. She stands, turns off the music, and opens the door. She's not expecting a pair of blue eyes to be looking down at her.

"What are you doing here?" Her voice is harsher than she intends but she doesn't take it back. Luke nods, knowing the reaction is deserved.

"I'm here to apologize," he admits.

"For what?" Delilah sighs, moving away from the door. Luke follows her in, closing the door behind him. His eyes take in the studio before he says anything else. The ceiling is high and the windows stretch from the floor to meet it. Several paintings of different sizes and images flood the walls. A couple of tables are pressed against the wall. They're covered in different paints, paintbrushes, messy rags, and cups of water. Delilah keeps her eyes away from him, feeling slightly exposed to him. The only people she lets into her space have been Natalia and Nina. Luke being here is a new experience. It's as if he's picking apart her mind by just looking at the art.

"For everything," he continues, finally finding the woman responsible for the beauty around him.

"How'd you get here?" Delilah questions, leaning against one of the tables.

"I begged Natalia for the address," he admits honestly. Delilah crosses her arms in front of her, narrowing her eyes slightly.

"And how'd you get Talia's number?" Delilah interrogates.

"A friend you know," Luke shrugs, not wanting to give a direct name. "She also told me your favorite coffee. Iced blondie with caramel which is also my peace offering."

Delilah purses her lips, not wanting to let a small gesture get a reaction out of her. Luke steps closer to her, testing his boundaries. Delilah sighs, giving in. She reaches out for the drink in his hand. Luke suppresses a grin as he hands the drink over. She sets it on the table behind her before facing him again. "Thank you."

"It's really the least I could do," he brushes off, sticking his hands in his jacket pockets. He takes another look around the studio as quiet falls over them. "You really are talented, you know that?"

"Natalia won't let me forget," Delilah smiles gently. Luke relaxes a bit at the sight. "And thank you, again."

"You deserve to hear it," he nods. He steps a bit closer. Delilah takes him in. The jacket, the white button-up, the dark pants. She feels the emotions start burning in her stomach. Both good and bad. "I really am sorry, Del." The nickname makes her stomach flip. "For all of it. For leaving you without warning, for being an asshole."

"Why did you leave?" Delilah hears herself asking. Her eyes follow his movements. His hand scratches the back of his neck.

"Uh," he struggles to find something justifiable until he's ready to tell her more. His brain goes blank. "I don't really have an excuse for that."

Delilah sighs, deciding to give him the benefit of the doubt. "Tell you what, why don't we start over? A clean slate is what we both need, I think." A small grin pulls at Luke's lips at the idea. A fresh start sounds amazing to him.

"Alright, I'm Luke," he introduces, holding out his hand.

"I'm Delilah," she smiles, taking his hand gently. The simple action warms his heart. Her hand slips out of his. Luke takes another look around the room, still marveling at the talent. His eyes land on the easel and half-finished painting in the middle of the room. He studies the work. "Do you like art?" She stands in the middle of the room next to him.

Luke looks down at the girl. "Maybe," he shrugs teasingly. "Do you sell your work?"

"I take orders and sometimes people buy what I paint in my free time," she nods, keeping her hands behind her back. He wonders if she's fighting the same urge he is.

"So this is your job?" He continues.

"Yeah, and I love every minute of it," she grins. The adoration and passion in her dark eyes tell him all he needs to know. Very few people get to actually have a job they enjoy. Delilah's lucky enough to be one. "You know, you've never told me what you do."

Panic scrambles Luke's head. He's not ready to tell her. Delilah reads the change in his expression. She doesn't press for an answer, in fact, she almost retracts her statement. "Uh, it's not the most admired thing in the world."

Delilah's brows furrow. With the apartment he has, she doesn't see how it can't be admired. Her mind shifts to more illegal jobs.

"It's nothing illegal," he reassures. "Somewhat." He adds, making Delilah's confusion grow. "Let's say it's a form of gambling." Delilah nods, wondering if that's how he got the cuts on his face.

"Tell me when you're ready," Delilah says gently. The last thing she wants to do is push him back when they're slowly getting somewhere. Her words lift the weight on his shoulders. Luke sighs as he remembers what day it is.

"I should start heading out," he excuses, taking a small step away from her. He continues toward the door when she calls out.

"Hey," she speaks up. He turns to face her, his hand on the doorknob. "Thank you for the drink."

"It's nothing," Luke grins. She waves and he nods. When he leaves the studio, Luke feels lighter than he did going in. As if mending what was starting to crack, lit something up in him.