Friction || Luke Hemmings

Alli- 18

Heat. Explosions. Fireworks.

I willed the feeling to come. I threw myself into the kiss, needing that connection. I needed that connection. I needed to feel that... that heat. That fire. Anything. But all I got was warm.

The only thing I could feel was a faint tingle, his lips moving harshly against mine. His hands gripped my hips tightly, his own hips pushing down, forcing my own on into the couch. I let out the whimper that surfaced from the feeling, but that's all it was. An empty feeling. This all just felt empty.

I didn't even get the same feeling when he attached his lips to my neck, teeth nipping at the skin covering a vein he's recently attached himself to. Anytime he would go for my neck, he went straight for the vein, running his tongue along to feel the way my heart rate would increase from his touch. Which it still did, increase I mean. But it didn't feel the same.

Frustrated with myself for not getting that feeling, I pulled him back up to me, his weight resting on his forearms in either side of my head. My head lifted off the couch cushion to force my lips agains his, instantly slipping my tongue through to meet his own. He chuckled against my lips, putting more pressure against my lips and forcing my head back down. Even with the harshness, the urgency in our actions, I still didn't feel that fucking fire. But I needed to. I needed it.

My hands untangled from his hair, pushing lightly on his chest to create some space, quickly ripping his shirt from his body. He was shocked, his body tensing as I ran my hands over his tattoos, paying special attention to the butterfly on his sternum. It really was a beautiful tattoo.

"Allison." He said breathlessly, green eyes shining in the dark of his living room, lips red and swollen, chest rising and falling just as mine was- quickly and harshly.

"I like your tattoos."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. I want one."

"You do?"

"I do."

"Of what?" I shrugged, continuing my tracing of the ink on his chest. "I'll come with you, you can squeeze my hand."

I smiled, genuinely happy in that moment. But when I pulled him back down to me, I still didn't get that feeling. That stupid feeling I got when Luke kissed me.

I still couldn't believe he had actually kissed me. Or that I kissed him back. It was just... as soon as he pulled me into him it was like I was glued. It was like we were pulled together, I didn't want to pull away. I wanted to stay in that moment forever.

But as quickly as I had given into him, I pushed him away. I didn't want to, God knows I didn't want to, but I had to. I was just... it was too confusing. I had waited for that moment the entire time we were actually friends, and of course now that we weren't he decides he wants to kiss me. And it was more than I had imagined it would be. It was lifetimes better than what I had imagined.

But he didn't like me. So why the fuck would he kiss me? What was his game? What the hell was he playing at?

The only answer I could come up with was Harry. He had everything, and I had nothing. Maybe he liked to see me suffer, so seeing me happy with Harry was threatening him. All he wanted was to take that away, and he figured he could. That has to be the only reason he kissed me. Harry was making me happy, and he wanted me to be miserable. He wanted to pull me away from Harry only to break me again in the end.

That's why I needed to feel that same connection. Before, Harry's kiss had been wonderful, his lips soft and skillful, and he never rushed anything. But after, it just didn't compare. Luke's lips were softer, he was gentler, yet just as skillful.