the kink club • luke hemmings ✔️

39. the one where it's the end.

chapter thirty-nine:
the one where it's the end.

"Go fuck yourself." probably wasn't the best thing to say to someone whose presence I'd been craving for the entire past week, but I said it anyway and I had no regrets at the time as I slammed the door right in Luke's face.

Of course, I was a complete idiot and forgot to lock it, giving him a full, wordless invitation to come inside. He did so, his expression desperate as I struggled to ignore him.

"Sophie, please,"

Silence. "Please talk to me."

Again, no reply. "I need you to listen, to hear me out, at least," he reached a hand out to touch me and I jerked away, the fastest I've ever moved in my entire life.

"Don't touch me," I snapped. "And get out of my apartment."

"I'm not leaving until you listen to me."

"Then you're going to be here a long fucking time,"

"I don't care. It's worth the wait." Luke replied quietly, taking a hesitant seat on the end of one of the couches in front of me. I just rolled my eyes, storming out of the living room with attitude radiating off of my entire body.

I came back not too long after, a good twenty minutes or so spent pacing the floor of my bedroom. I knew I couldn't just leave him there. I knew it would be unfair to wait for the others to come home, to wait for him to become impatient and leave. So I walked back, with tiny, cautious steps; my heart thudding as he looked up.

A mess was the only way to describe what Luke looked like. And I'm not complaining, not at all; I know for a fact that I mirrored him, if not worse.

His blue eyes scored over my body, the reluctance in his expression shining through as he swallowed the lump in his throat. He mumbled something, a sentence in which I rigidly replied back to, and we sat in yet another quiet atmosphere for however long it took me to break the awkward silence.

I clear my throat now, unknowingly guilty for giving him such a hard time earlier on. I feel bad about it but I also feel kind of proud of myself for having the guts to do so; even if it did result in him storming into my apartment.

"Do you want something to drink?" I ask, my words soundless. Luke diverts his attention from the blank TV to me, a little stunned at the lack of my hostility.

"No, thank you."

"Something to eat?"

"I'm fine, Soph."

"Oh. Alright."

"Yeah."

I fidget awkwardly in front of him, my eyes trained on my lap as if it's the most interesting thing in the world.

Luke looks down at his own, jaw clenched together. If this were any other situation, I'd lean forward and kiss it, no questions asked and certainly with no hesitance. But this isn't 'any other situation'; it's me, and him, and the fact that we're in the same room with the hopes of clearing things up, yet he's been here for a little over an hour now and we've yet to make the slightest bit of progress.

"Where is everyone?" he asks, clearing his throat to break the ice. The air around us is nothing but awkward.

I shift my position a little, standing up straighter rather than slouching. "They went out."