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⚡︎⟡₊ ⊹
you hum to yourself as you head down the hallway toward ashton's room, a little spring in your step.
you don't bother knocking—neither of you ever do—but the second you step inside, you regret it. ashton is leaning over luke, their lips locked in a heated kiss.
"holy shit!" you yelp, slapping a hand over your eyes as you stumble back into the hallway. both boys freeze, looking at you like a pair of startled deer.
after a moment, your step-brother comes to the doorway, his cheeks bright red.
"maybe we should start knocking from now on." he says, attempting a laugh.
you shake your head, trying to hide your grin.
"i'm sorry! i didn't know luke was here."
he waves it off.
"no worries. just if you so much as breathe a word to our parents, i might have to spill about your little sexcapade with harry on friday night."
"ashton!" you gasp, giving him a playful shove.
just then, luke appears beside the dirty blonde haired boy, his arms slipping around his waist.
"hey, (y/n)," he says with a shy smile.
you give him a wave, trying to stifle your laughter. just as you're about to tease them both, your mom's voice rings out from downstairs, calling all of you.
ashton shoots you a warning look, and you pretend to zip your lips, smirking as the three of you make your way downstairs together.
✰
sunlight spills over the kitchen table, casting warm stripes across the plates and mugs scattered in front of you. there's a lightness in the room, an ease, as your mom, ashton, and luke chat away, voices blending with the sound of cutlery and sizzling bacon.
ashton's dad cracks a joke that makes luke snort into his orange juice, and even though your head still feels foggy with sleep, a faint smile sneaks onto your face.
it's a quiet morning, one of those rare moments where everything feels stable, like you're exactly where you're supposed to be.
you reach for another bite, the shrill ring of the landline cuts through the calm, jolting everyone slightly.
your mom's eyes shift to you, and she nods towards the phone, nudging you gently.
"can you get that, pet?"
you nod, pushing back your chair and shuffling over to the wall-mounted phone, expecting it to be a telemarketer or maybe a friend of your mom's.
"hello?" you say as you lift the receiver to your ear, a voice you haven't heard in a long time echoes on the other end—a voice you'd tried to lock away, far from mornings like these.
