benevolent. ❀ lrh

Chapter Twelve.

Luke Hemmings is confused.

Hardly a minute has gone by and yet, he's finding it difficult to breathe, hunched over the kitchen sink like his dinner is going to crawl up the back of his throat at any second. It's an unfamiliar feeling tugging deep within his chest.

The whole situation, on the outside, seems very cut and dry. Avery and Calum were married and now they're in the middle of a divorce. But Luke knows there's more to it than that. He may not have known Avery very long but she doesn't seem like the type to hide something like that unless she has a fairly damn good reason.

Not that it's any of Luke's business, anyway, like Liliana had said. Luke isn't entitled to the details of Avery's personal life and what she's shared already was ten times more than he ever would if he were in her position.

But Luke would be a damn liar if he said it didn't hurt.

It isn't betrayal he's feeling, it's simpler than that. The fact that Luke's completely lost when it comes to the whole dating thing, and before he thought he'd been floundering desperately in the middle of the ocean but now, he's sinking deep into the pit of it and there isn't a life preserver being thrown his way.

Luke, still drenched but a little less so now, retrieves two packets of hot chocolate mix from the pantry cupboard after he's regained his breath. By the time he's flicking on the electric kettle, Avery emerges from the hallway.

She looks small in his old band t-shirt and sweatpants, rolled at the hips so they'd fit her decently but pooling at her ankles. Her hair's dampened and brushed back, face void of mascara and eyeliner and sparkly lip gloss. Bare.

And she's still the prettiest fucking thing he's ever seen.

Resisting the hearts that threaten to form in his eyes, Luke clears his throat and reverts his attention to the kettle that beeps softly. "I uh– made some hot chocolate."

"Thanks," Avery's bare feet pad softly on the wooden floors, much quieter than Luke's own footsteps. "Thank you for the clothes, too."

Luke hands off a mug to her, watching as Avery cradles it with both hands so carefully and delicately that Luke forgets the hot chocolate, is, in fact, hot, and burns the tip of his tongue. He exhales sharply.

"I'll get out of your hair soon." Avery says, blowing softly on her own mug.

"You don't– I won't make you walk home in the rain," Luke says, ignoring the sharp, tingling sensation on the tip of his tongue. "You're welcome to sleep in the guest bed. I can throw your dress in the dryer, too."

"You don't have to do that," Avery frowns. "I don't want to put you out. I've caused enough trouble for one night."

"Avery," Luke holds his mug loosely, shoulders deflating as he rolls his lips in thought. "You shouldn't feel guilty. Your situation with Calum isn't any of my business. Sure, it might make things a bit complicated but my feelings haven't changed."

"Your.. feelings?" Avery swallows rather harshly.

Luke averts his eyes. "Look, I don't know what I'm doing here. I'm way out of my depth, to be honest. But I like you and I want to figure it out," A small, soft oh escapes Avery. "And I understand you won't– uh, pursue anything until everything's been finalized. So I'm– I'm willing to wait."

"Luke, I can't ask you to do that." Avery says in a near whisper.

"You're not asking me to, I want to," Luke jerks one shoulder in a shrug. He stares down at his mug, the tiny little marshmallows nearly melted in the muddy brown liquid. "And.. school's finished in June, so by July maybe.."