attractive catastrophe ❧ hemmings au

❧ 07

"Dude, she gave you her number?" Ashton cheered through the phone, making Luke roll his eyes, "do you have any idea of how hard it is to get her number?"

"How?" Luke asked with amusement clear in his voice.

"So hard! My classmates just sit and complain about how that girl is like, stiff as a rock or something, yet here you are! How on earth did you manage to do that?" Ashton celebrated.

"Well, well, settle down," Luke calmed him down, chuckling, "she was kind of drunk, and I drove her home and she gave me her number."

"Oh I see, so you made her a favor and she paid you by doing you a favor." Ashton added, talking like having Konstantine's 9 digits was a blessing, and it really was, at least that's what Luke thought.

"Something like that," Luke agreed as he plopped himself into his bed, looking up at the ceiling and holding his phone up to his ear.

"Dude, you're so lucky," Ashton sneered, "so what are you going to do?"

"Call her, I suppose." Luke shrugged.

"What? Like, today? No, you have to leave her waiting, that makes girls desire you more."

"She's not like most girls, Ashton, may I remind you," he stated, sitting up this time.

"True, but anyways that's not what I meant," Ashton rectified, "I meant the plan, you know."

Luke stayed silent, thinking about the plan he had forgotten about. "Well, it's still there; I now have an easier way to contact her and get to know her."

"Oh cool, just reminding you, because I know that dude wouldn't be happy with the fact that you're fucking someone he paid you to kill."

"Charls knows I take my time, and besides, what's wrong with a little fucking?" Luke chuckled, Ashton joining not long after.

-----------------

Konstantine felt confused and played, and even though she didn't want to, she knew exactly why. She knew herself pretty well, her likes and dislikes, and that's something people often told her they admired.

But that one night when she was in the car with that blond guy, Luke, if she remembers correctly, she felt out of control, and none of her actions felt like hers at all.

She didn't exactly know what possessed her to let that guy drive her home, or worse, trust him enough to give him her number. Either way, she felt like she would be mad at herself if she didn't give him that number- but now she was mad because she did, in fact, she was mad because he hadn't called her yet. For someone who seemed quite desperate to get close to her, he sure didn't take his opportunities serious.

And the thing is, it wasn't like her to get upset over a guy not calling her- nor over a guy she doesn't even know well. But yet here she was, in a coffee shop downtown, burning her tongue with the latte she'd ordered to punish herself for being so stupid.

She sighed, putting her coffee down and staring at her laptop- college was killing her.

Is not like she needed college, but she did want to master in psychology, despite her family's business and whatnot, she still wanted to live a normal life and have a normal job, but now that she looked at her screen, the empty document with the blinking bar pressuring to type something for her essay, she reconsidered if a normal job is indeed what she wanted.

She closed the word document tab, and quickly put Spotify, pressing play to one of the playlist which contained Daughter, The Drowners, Placebo and what not. She plugged in her earphones and listened to Broken Promise by Placebo as she cautiously sipped on her coffee, the lyrics reminding him of a certain blond, blue-eyed block.