Five Whispered Words

Chapter 6

The second week of September was eventful, filled with rain, clouds and wind. Luke could practically smell something changing in the air and he didn't know how to feel about it. His anxiety had always made change unappealing since he was small, never switching brands of cereals, cookies and even juice. It's probably why he found Blake's everyday breakfast so endearing if he was being honest with himself.

Luke had an interview at another tattoo parlour that week and he was feeling good about. It was not too far from his apartment, in a cozy part of town between a record store and a coffee place. The store wasn't too big but it had enough room for a couple working stations, a bathroom and a waiting area. Crossing his fingers he closed his car door in front of the parlour and hoped for the best.

                                ***********

"Hey, I'm home!" Luke yelled closing the heavy door to his apartment and hanging up his light fleece jacket. Shivering he half hazardously threw his keys on the table beside the infamous chalkboard that had acquired quite a bit of decorations which included both of their names- hers in cursive and his in big childish bubble letters- random doodles, old messages and reminders. Not finding any new ones he followed the sound of the T.V. in the living room where he found the brunette girl watching "Friends" which she frequently obsessed over. "Hey." she said over her shoulder, her eyes trained on the screen where Chandler had just made a sarcastic remark.

"Haven't you seen this episode a million times? Hell, I've watched it with you three times already." Luke chuckled toeing off his shoes near the couch. Luckily she was neat but didn't seem to obsess about the little mess he often made. He sat next to her on the comfy couch as she muttered a quick "Can't blame them for making this show as funny as it is." Smiling a little he dug his phone out of his pants checking for any new texts. "Shit." He mumbled not finding the text he was hoping for. "You okay?" She asked turning away from the sitcom.

"Yeah I just interviewed for a position at a tattoo parlour downtown and they said they'd let me know if I have the job or not today. It's already nine and I haven't gotten a single text that wasn't from my mom asking how I am or my dad telling me to reply to my mother." She giggled and rested her hand on his thigh trying to comfort him "Don't give up just yet: it's Saturday they are probably a little busy, I'm sure they'll text soon." Blake said.

"Thanks, roomie." He smiled using her usual nickname for him. She raised her eyebrows and opened her mouth but was interrupted by a ding coming from Luke's phone. "It's from them!" He exclaimed, quick to open the text and read the rest of it. Her eyes glancing at his dim screen to take a peak she threw her hands in the air "You got the job!" Luke jumped up from the couch to throw his hands in his hair excitedly "I can't believe it! There must've been twenty people there more qualified than me!" He shook his head incredulous. She on the other hand shot up from her seat to hit the back of his head. "What are you on about?!" He rubbed the back of his head looking at the sudden outburst, her eyes were filled with what he thought was happiness and she was shaking her head. "Oi! That hurt..." Luke pouted playfully.

"Are you crazy?! I've seen your drawings! You are amazing and if anyone deserves that job, it's you!" Blake exclaimed to the blond still holding the back of his head. "C'mon, we are celebrating." She walked quickly towards the kitchen and took a bottle of champagne out of the fridge. He looked at her smaller body running around the kitchen grabbing glasses and opening every drawer. "Where did we put it..." She trailed off still opening cupboards. His mouth opened in shock looking at the expensive looking bottle and back at his roommate. "Where the flying fuck did you get this?!" Grabbing the bottle he examined the back but couldn't understand anything as it was in another language. Was that French? Italian? All of a sudden she stood up from the floor where she was rummaging through other drawers holding a bottle opener. "Ah! Found it!" She began opening the bottle answering his question "Was saving it for a special moment, hid it behind the leftovers where you never look. I've seen how much beer you go through, who knows how fast this would've been gone."

Shaking his head he took the bottle opener from her hands in protest. "No, I'm not letting you waste it on this. You should keep it for when something really good happens, or at least something good for you."

"First of all dumbass," she began "this is a good thing for me; it means I'm sure you'll be paying rent. And second, this is good. Don't worry we can always get another one." She took the bottle opener back as if to prove her point smiling. Luke shook his head at the older girl. As hard as he tried to be stern he couldn't help the giant grin that was making its way onto his face; he realized he did that often around her. Putting that thought to the back of his mind he walked to the cupboard where they stored glasses grabbing two and setting them down beside her. "Let's celebrate then."

**********

"C'mon just a little more." Blake insisted pouring more bubbly liquid into Luke's glass. "You're lucky it's Saturday night." He said pointing to his roommate all the while giggling. Like actually giggling. God knows what she had poisoned him with for him to be this happy he wondered while drunkly trying to read the ingredients.

After a couple glasses of champagne on the kitchen island the two found themselves seated on the floor between the kitchen and living room. While Luke's legs were sprawled out in front of him due to his height she was sitting crisscrossed, both of their backs rested on a wall with the the city sounds as the perfect soundtrack.

"Fuck we finished it." Blake laughed shaking the empty bottle as proof. Standing up on slightly shaky legs he rummaged in the second drawer to the left from the fridge where he magically pulled out a bottle of vodka. With one eyebrow raised he looked at her mischievously while holding the bottle in the air like a trophy. In his tipsy mind it was greater than any trophy could be.

Setting the bottle near Blake he found two shot glasses which he handed her. Going back into the kitchen he looked for some liquid that could suit the liquor nicely. Not that he was an expert or anything but his junior year of high school, without his mother's permission of course, he had tried all the different (cheap) combinations out there as a personal experiment. Adding milk was great for hiding the strong liquor smell but tasted awful, with orange juice the liquid became easier to swallow but he quickly found the combination of vodka and lemonade was the best tasting mix. His eyes lit up when he spotted a yellow drink in the fridge and reading the label he felt the luckies man in the world; it was lemonade.

"You didn't tell me you bought.." He trailed off looking at his roommate spotting the bottle already opened with a shot glass in hand. Filling it up with the transparent liquid she quickly threw her head back swallowing the strong liquor. "Don't you need something to help it go down? You know it could be better if you-"

"Dude," she interrupted "I spent all junior and senior year practically practicing with vodka shots, I'm good." Shaking his head he made his way over to his original spot with a small smile gracing his face. "You sure are something else Blake..." He stopped realizing he didn't even know her last name. Before he could get embarrassed about the painfully obvious information he lacked she filled in the void. "Jackson, Blake Jackson." She whispered leaning in closer, so close he could feel her hot breath on his neck which made him shiver.

Trying to change the subject he said "I think it's fair that I ask you some personal questions now. After all, you did see my glorious ass." Then quickly adding "Don't you think I deserve to see yours?" the liquid courage spurring him on. He had no idea what produced the words he just uttered because the Luke he knew certainly did not. How had he not thrown up yet? This is where she slaps me, he thought, and if I'm lucky she won't smash the bottle over my head, he continued. He did have a point, he had just bought it the other day. Although the stars must've been aligned that day because all she did was laugh.

Has her laugh always been this melodic sound? Was her her hair always this soft-looking? Did she always smile that bright? Luke almost wanted to stroke her hair. Almost.

Furrowing his eyebrows in frustration he shook his head to clear his thoughts. What has gotten into him?

Laughing nervously with her he swallowed two shots without lemonade to be sure he could really forget his earlier thoughts. Surely it must've been the champagne.