Paparazzi || Luke Hemmings

Chapter 5: Quite the outfit choice

We get back to my apartment, and I glance at the beige wall clock that has been hanging in the downstairs lobby since forever.

1:13 AM

Dimly lit hallways lead us to the elevator, me leading a stumbling Luke along.

"I'm so tired, Charlo." Luke groans at me.

I internally cringe at his chosen name for me and press the upwards button by the silver elevator doors.

When we finally make it up to my floor, I unlock the door to my apartment, causing us to stumble in, Luke pushing me against a wall in order for us not to fall over completely.

We're both breathing heavily, and my gaze somehow is transfixed onto Luke's  blue eyes which look- filled with lust.

He glances down at my lips, and I glance at his own impossibly pink ones befo-

RINGGGGGGGGGGG

Luke pulls away from me, startled, and I fall to the ground. I am still wearing my three inch heels, after all.

I groan out loud, pulling my phone out of my large purse.

John, the fuck! Not again.

"Yes?" I snap into the phone.

I watch out of the corner of my eye as Luke makes his way to my leather couch, lying down on his back and staring up at the ceiling, hands folded on his chest.

"How'd the undercover mission go? Did you see the boys? Did you get any nice pictures? I heard th-"

I cut him off, "John, I'm sorta uh busy at the moment," I say, glancing again at Luke who is now tracing patterns on his black skinny jean clad thigh.

"Busy? Oh, I see. You're busy." He laughs over the phone, sounding very pleased with himself for some odd freaking reason.

"Um yeah, so if you don't mind I'd like to um- you know, go now." I scratch the back of my neck awkwardly.

"Sure, no problem. Have fun, Charlotte." The line goes dead.

I breathe a sigh of relief, dropping my phone onto the nearby brown coffee table, before getting up and brushing down my wrinkled dress.

Then I slip off the annoying heels, mentally promising myself never ever to wear them again. As undercover Rosie or my plain old self, just no.

Then I stalk over to where Luke was lying down on my couch.

Lying down on my couch, sniffling like crazy.

"Um-Luke? You okay there?" I say, poking his stubbly pale cheek.

He blinks open one blood-shot blue eye at me.

"N-no. I'm not." Tears stream down his cheeks, and I'm in a moment of shock, not sure what had happened to make him so-so emotional so freaking fast. He was fine a second ago!

"Luke, what's the matter?" I coo, bending down on my knees to be closer to his eye-level.

I'm a sucker for criers, I can't help it.

"I-I- she br-broke up with me, Charlo." He sobs, pulling his knees to his chest.

"Who broke up with you, Luke?" I ask, wiping away his sudden tears.

He ignores my question instead sniffling and saying, "D-do you believe in- finding true love, Charlotte?"

I'm taken aback by his random and sudden question, not sure what exactly to reply.

"I uh- I mean I guess so. If you really love a person, I- uh- I don't know what to say. Yes," I finally stutter out. I don't like being so caught off guard with questions like that.

He sniffles again, his blood-shot blue eyes meeting mine.

"D-do ya think I'll find my true love some day?" He sniffles at me, wiping his nose with the back of his hand.

I get the sudden urge to wrap the poor emotional drunk guy in my arms and kiss away his pain, but I quickly shove the sudden thought out of my mind. No.

I shouldn't be thinking like that, he's obviously both heartbroken and drunk off his ass.

Damn, his ass looks great in those tight skinny jeans.

Now is not the time, Charlotte.

I mentally scold myself, instead giving Luke a quick hug, before standing back up and hovering over him.

He looks really uncomfortable on my small couch, his 6'4 body all jumbled together in a mess of long limbs and uncomfortable clothing.

"Luke, do you uh- wanna like sleep in my bed? I could take the couch,"

He stands up, taking my hand in his and entwining our fingers once again.

I feel a blush coat my cheeks as he sniffles, "Let's both take your bed."

He unlatches our fingers, and I follow slowly after him into my bedroom.

"It's only gonna be one night, and he's so drunk he probably doesn't even know what he just said to me," I whisper to myself, quietly.

I go into my bedroom, and almost gasp at the sight in front of me.

Luke has stripped out of all of his clothes, shirtless and only in some black Calvin Klein boxers.

I try my best to avert my gaze from his toned chest and V-line, instead focusing on my bare-feet.

"You're wearing that to bed?" I ask quietly, voice straining annoyingly.

He just mumbles a muffled "mhmm" before dropping his lanky body into my many fluffy pillows.

I roll my eyes, going into my bathroom to both wipe off my makeup and change into some more comfortable clothes.

I grab a shirt and some sleep shorts from my closet, before walking into my bathroom and closing the door behind me.

Washing off my makeup felt good, and then I reach to put on my clothes.

I pull the shirt over my head, but then gasp when I realize the familiar scent its covered in.

It's Luke's shirt.

Why'd he shove it in my closet?

I sigh, deciding to keep it on, since it's very comfortable, before pulling up my sleep shorts and walking into the bedroom where I can already hear Luke's snores.

I crawl into bed, being careful not to rub against or touch Luke in anyway.

That would just be awkward and all, although it would feel pretty nice to be wrapped up in his nice warm ar-

I gasp when Luke snuggles his arms around my waist securely, placing his face on my chest and mumbling things in his drunken-sleep.

I guess I am getting cuddles tonight, and I sure as hell don't mind one bit.

I sigh contently. This feels right. Even if it is only for one dang night because Luke was drunk off his ass and his friends didn't care.

Ugh, life.

VOTE Y'ALL.

All the love,

-H

OKAY I SOUNDED LIKE H STYLEZ MA MAN LMAO.