Take Off All Your Cool - A Luke Castellan Fanfiction

already over

You wake up the next day, your mind still lingering on the events of the night before. You can still feel the after-effects of the encounter, the sensations and sounds from last night playing on repeat in your mind.

You get up slowly, wincing as your body protests the movement. Your muscles are sore and achy, the evidence of the activities from the night before making themselves known. You stumble out of bed, the memories and sensations still replaying in your mind

You make your way to the bathroom, turning on the shower and letting the water run hot. You step under the spray, the water washing over your body and helping to ease some of the soreness.

As you stand under the water, your mind is still stuck on the night before. You can't help but replay the events over and over in your mind. The sounds, the touches, the way he looked at you...

You can feel a faint pang of regret and wistfulness in your chest, knowing that it was just a one-night encounter. Despite yourself, you find yourself wishing things were different, that it could have been more than just a one-time thing.

You shake the thought away, telling yourself it's for the best. It was just a moment of weakness, a moment of passion that meant... nothing.

You finish showering and get dressed, pulling on a pair of comfortable jeans and a soft t-shirt. You know you should stop thinking about the night before, but your mind keeps drifting back to it, reliving the memories and sensations over and over.

You exit the bathrooms and head towards the dining pavilion, hoping that some food and a distraction will help take your mind off of last night.

You take a seat at the table with your cabin mates, forcing yourself to focus on the conversation and banter. But even as you chat and laugh, your mind is still on the events of the previous night.

You keep stealing glances across the pavilion, looking for a glimpse of him. You tell yourself you're just looking out of curiosity, but deep down you know it's more than that.

You pick at your food, your appetite diminished by your distracted thoughts. The conversation around you seems distant and muted, as if you're in a fog. You catch snippets of conversations, people asking about your night and commenting on your disheveled appearance.

Eventually, breakfast ends and everyone starts to disperse. You linger for a moment, torn between wanting to see him and knowing you should stop thinking about him. Your siblings make comments about your distracted appearance and the flush on your cheeks, ribbing you good-naturedly.

You force a smile and a laugh, shrugging off their comments as nothing. But deep down, you know they're not too far off the mark.

You head to the training arena, hoping some physical activity will help clear your mind. You pick up your weapons and start going through the familiar motions, the rhythm and the physicality of the movements helping to distract you.

But even as you go through your routine, your mind still drifts back to him, memories of his touch and his words haunting you.

You push yourself harder, pouring more energy and effort into your training. Sweat beads on your brow and your muscles burn with exertion, but even that pain and exhaustion is not enough to drown out the memories of last night.

You pause for a moment, leaning on your weapon and catching your breath. Your mind is still spinning, fragments of memories and sensations assaulting you from every angle. You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself.

You hear a noise behind you and turn around, your heart leaping into your throat as you hope it's him. But it's just another camper, practicing on the other end of the arena. You feel a pang of disappointment and a twinge of embarrassment at your hopefulness.