the kink club • luke hemmings ✔️

30. the one where he's staring again.

chapter thirty:
the one where he's staring again.

Weddings are supposed to be fun, that's what I've heard. They're supposed to drag but they're meant to drag in a good way; in a happy, joyous, worth-it sort of way, like the afterparty of a tamed high school event that everybody wants to go to.

They're not supposed to be like this, like a prison where the guests can't even excuse themselves to go to the bathroom because Poppy's self-absorption has reached the point where she wants all eyes on her. I'm not supposed to be bored, sitting on one of the church pews, my head lolling lazily against Luke's shoulder because it's taking her an hour to get down the halfpoint of the aisle.

I think even the organ player's growing restless, too. There are only so many piano key combinations he can play before he runs out of material and we're stuck with lone-voice acapella.

"This is so long," Michael hisses, his face furrowing into a frown. It's all I can do not to give in, for that would result in a scene being made as we try to exit the building. "What time is it?"

"Time to keep quiet. If she hears you, she'll start all over again." Calum mutters unhappily, shifting in his seat and readjusting the bowtie wrapped around his neck. He'd come to the wedding completely unprepared, a blazer and a pair of sensible trousers that didn't even belong to him packed sloppily into his suitcase, so naturally Poppy stepped in.

"You can borrow one of Matt's ties," she'd told him eagerly, as I looked on from the doorway; biting back a laugh. "He's got plenty."

"I'm not sure-"

"Here," she stuck her hands out, each other clutching a long fabric of silk chain, embroidered with irrelevant patterns. "Try one on, and see what you like best."

Calum liked neither of them. There was a pineapple one, oddly enough, and out of all the somewhat-normal looking stripes and dots and dashes, the fruit was what he went for.

"What kind of grown ass man wears a pineapple tie?" he groans now, folding his arms with an expression ready to kill. Luke just rolls his eyes, arms folded as we stare at the blushing bride.

Poppy had told me earlier about the sort of people that would be here. I make eye contact with a few family friends, aquiantances from high school. There's the odd ex-boyfriend of hers, and the former cheerleading squad she was once a part of. Poppy knows a lot of people and seeing as I'm her sister, they somewhat know me, too.

"He's looking at you," a voice says, and I turn my head away from Poppy's pastry-shaped dress to look at Luke.

His gaze is focused forward, his fingers sneakily interwined with mine. The only thing worse than being bored to death at a wedding is looking as if you're willing to steal the spotlight.

"What?"

"That guy, over there. He's looking at you," Luke repeats, as if I hadn't heard him the first time or caught onto where he was suggestively nudging his head towards. "Do you know him?"

"No," I frown, trying not to make it obvious as I sneak a glance at the guy on the opposite row. He moves his face before I can even acknowledge who he is, making me sigh slightly.

"Then why is he looking at you?"

"I don't know, Luke."

"He's looking at you pretty funny."

"I don't know, Luke."

"I'm gonna go talk to hi-"

"What are you doing? Sit back down!" I say, quite frantically as I pull him back into his seat. This act alone causes a few heads to turn our way, looks that I counteract with an apologetic smile.