Voodoo Doll lhxai [discontinued]

Chapter Four

Luke groaned as his alarm clock started blaring a strange alien noise and vibrating. Why the hell did I pick that for my alarm?, he thinks to himself. He blindly reaches across the table to grab it. He flips it over in his hands when he finally gets a hold of it. It lights up the dark room around him. 8:35 the clock shows. I must've slept through the first alarm. 

Luke sits up stiffly in his bed, head reeling as he does. What did I do last night? The last think Luke remembers is something about Slipknot. Well that isn't very helpful.

Luke guesses he was probably drinking, indicated by killer headache and nausea. He doesn't really remember going out and that's strange. Usually Luke gets just drunk enough to forget choice things, never the whole night. He must've drank a lot.

He tips his head back against the wall, trying to remember last night without hurting his head more. Finally deciding that it didn't matter, he starts tugging the blanket off his torso. Well he tries to. Something is stopping him.

Luke looks down at the bed. It's to dark in the room to see anything, but he's pretty sure someone is lying next to him.

Shit, did I sleep with someone last night? Luke's eyes go wide. He's never gotten so drunk that he's brought someone home and did anything with them. Sure he's kissed many, many people while drunken, but never gotten as far as sex. He quickly reaches under the blanket to check to see if he is wearing pants. He is. But that doesn't mean he didn't do some thing stupid.

Frantically he reaches over and flicks on his lamp. He closes his eyes for a few seconds and blinks, trying to get used to the light.

From what Luke can see, the person has curly, dirty blonde hair. That helps. Oh god, what if this is some whore that has so many STD's that even Stephan Hawing wouldn't be able to count! Luke definitely does not want an STD.

Whoever it is has a very strong grip on the comforter. Luke pulls on it, tugging on it softly so he doesn't wake the person. When Luke finally pries the blanket out of their hands, he flips it back.

Luke gulps thickly.

The person lying next to him is a boy. A boy. Boy.

Luke has never slept with a boy. Hell, he hasn't ever kissed a boy!

Why is Ashton in my bed? Why is Ashton in my bed! Where is his shirt! Oh god, is he wearing pants? Why is Ashton in my bed!

Luke coughs slightly. He doesn't know what to do. He has never woken up in a situation. He doesn't know how to handle it. Plus he is fucking hungover.

Luke coughs again, his mouth feels like it is full of cotton. He tries to wet his tongue, still staring at the shirtless - and possibly pant less - Ashton lying face down in his bed.

He checks the time on his phone again; 8:45. He has to be to his first class at ten. Maybe he'll have time to talk to Ashton if he skips on a shower today.

He is still staring dumbfounded at Ashton when suddenly the boy lets out a moan. Luke's breath catches in fear. What is he suppose to say? Or what is he suppose to ask Ashton? Like, what, 'Did we have sex last night,' because that will totally work.

Ashton reaches a hand up and tugs on his curls. Luke suddenly really wants to be doing the same thing. Ashton must realize he isn't is his bed because he quickly pushes himself onto his elbows, staring at the wall with slightly glazed eyes.

We must have been high or something.

Ashton stares at Luke with a look of utter confusion. Luke feels confused to.