paper rings (l.h.)

25

Luke's phone buzzes in his pocket, his arm wrapped around my neck as my eyes are glued to the beginning of chapter thirteen, Luke's focused on The Office. My eyes were tired already, after having read a million pages by now. I feel his breathing rock me to sleep, and his heartbeat in my ear. He shifted in his seat to grab his phone. "Hey, Calum," he says, as I finally close my eyes after fighting it off for so long.

I felt his hand play with the chain of my fake gold necklace around my neck, his gentle fingertips against the soft skin of my collarbone while my chest rises slowly with each breath I took.

"No shit," he scoffs, and I readjust myself to rest my head on his thigh. Slowly, sleepily, I try to fight the bright lamp's glow so that I could open my eyes. It was rough, I was squinting more than I was keeping them open, Luke's blue ones glanced down to meet mine. "Tonight?"

I flutter my eyes closed as I realized that my time with Luke will be ripped from my hands, now that his career basically moved to be closer to him. I wrapped myself up in a blanket, my gentle breaths filling the otherwise quiet room between Luke's voice breaking it. My time with him might be coming to an end a lot sooner than I had wanted it to, as his eyes move from the floral wallpaper around the two of us, and the TV screen, to my half-conscious smile.

"She might be too tired," he says quietly, reaching down to pet my head. "I'll ask her."

I place my bookmark between the pages that I had fallen asleep on just as I did a thousand times before. I raise my hands above my head, across his lap.

"Calum's throwing me a party," he moves his phone away from his ear, his lips curling into a dimpled smile that tells me he sort of wants to go. He glances from my eyes, down to my lips, trying to read my face for a response before I even open my mouth. I could lay here and stare up at him all day. "He wanted us to come."

"A party?" I raise my eyebrows. "Around here?"

"His sister's out of town apparently," he shrugs. "She said he could use her apartment if he wanted to. It won't be any more than maybe ten or so people."

"I haven't gone to a party since high school," I scoff, running my fingers through my long hair above my head, Luke's hand eventually combing through it as well.

"It might be fun," he shrugs. "I'm a good dancer."

"Are you?" I laugh, sitting up and moving onto the edge of the bed. "I didn't know that."

I turn to face him, my hair falling down my back and the book on my lap. He waits for my response, and the slight raise of his eyebrows tells me he wants to go, but not alone. "Usually only when I'm wasted," he admits. "But I'm sure I still got it."

If it was anyone else, I'd tell them off for even asking this late. My eyes were red-rimmed and heavy, and all I wanted to do was crawl back into bed, with him, and fall asleep warm and with my face buried into his neck.

But plans change. Birthdays happen, friends fly back into town unexpectedly and all of a sudden I feel my heart burst into a thousand pieces when he grabs my hand from where it lays at my side.

"But you're sober?" I pull myself out of bed, and towards my vanity. I had already made up my mind before he tried his hand at convincing me.

"Calum won't let alcohol in, he said they've got chronic. That's it."

"Huh?" I look back at him, over my shoulder, as I run a brush through my hair.

"Sorry," he chuckles under his breath. "Weed."

"Oh," I nod, turning back around to face my mirror. I comb my hair and watch as the bristles smooth out the mess of hair I've got around my head, tangled from the pillows and whatever else it has submitted itself to. He watches my every movement, watching how I place it down carefully once I was finished. I saw how he was so focused on trying to read me, and predict whatever I might say before I say it.