Stepbrother: Luke Hemmings |a.u.|

. . . Trash.

Y'all, I know Luke didn't write Amnesia. Just go with the flow plz.

"Luke!" Andrew, Luke's dad, yells. Luke leaves me in his room alone while he tends to whatever his father needed. I walk back to my own room and stop. I am dumb as hell. How do I like Luke? We don't ever talk. Is this lust? Taylor Ashley Dawson doesn't do lust. I sit in my room and ponder at the thought of me and Luke.

*about an hour later*

"Taylor, help me set the table!" My mother yells from downstairs. Ugh. I hate setting the damn table. I take my time in getting down the stairs.
"Okay! Be down there in a few!" I go to the mirror to check for any signs of hickeys or bruises before I go help my mom. I jog down the stairs and help my mother.

*about 10 minutes later*

"Andrew! Luke! Dinner!" My mom yells to them. They both emerge from the room Andrew and my mother share and take a seat at the table. We sit in silence while we eat our Alfredo.
"Hmm. Hmmm. Hm. Hm." Luke breaks the silence with his humming. He starts....the tapping.
"Quit it, Luke." I look up and glare at him.
"Asht- I'm working on a song and I can't get it out of my head. This is about to be better than Blink-182, All Time Low, McBusted, Ed Sheeran-"

"Pshhhh. NO ONE is better than Ed Sheeran. Let alone you." I interject. This is about to be WWIII.
"I'm telling you, Taylor, Ed Sheeran is just a man with his guitar. He's great and all, but I'm about to have electric guitars, drums, bass . . ." He starts naming all of the extravagant things his so-called "band" is going to have.
"I totally get that, but your lyrics are going to be . . . what's it called? Trash." I'm totally winning right now.
"Oh, but Ed Sheeran's career . . . trash" Luke spits.
"How fu-" I start, but my mother cuts me off.
"Taylor and Luke, that's enough! Upstairs, in your rooms. Now." My mom instructs. I take my plate and drop it in the sink. I go to my room and leave the door cracked. Luke soon follows . . . into my room. Of course.
"How fucking dare you?" I continue, but whispering.
"You called my lyrics trash. You've never even heard them." He's right. I haven't.
"But, you trashed Ed Sheeran." He really didn't, but it's too late to go back now. Luke sits at the edge of my bed.
"Can I hear your lyrics?" I ask. Luke looks surprised, but goes to retrieve some of his handwritten lyrics. I read a song called Amnesia. It's definitely not trash.
"That's great, Luke." I genuinely say.
"Really? Thanks." Luke replies. We just sit and stare. Then, the question reappears in my head. How do we even like each other. We barely talk.
"Luke, how do you like me?" I blurt.
"Huh?" He's confused.
"We barely ever have serious conversations. How do you like me? You don't know me." I look down. There's silence.
"Yeah. I guess your right. I don't know how focused you are on school. I don't know how much you care about being successful. I don't know how you're a perfectionist. I don't know how you fangirl over Ed Sheeran. I really don't know." Luke laughs almost the whole way through. Why does he know all of this stuff? What the hell?
"Really? Y-You pay attention to all of that?" I light up just a little.
"Hold on, Taylor. This isn't some cliché chick flick where I say 'I've always noticed' or some shit. It's pretty obvious. Everyone knows." Well, shit. Way to rain on my little cliché parade.
"Oh."

"I just like those things about you." Luke dries up the rain on my parade. Then, he sneaks out of my room without being seen. I remain on the edge of my bed. How am I letting Luke do this to me? I am so fucked up.

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