London Lucifer || lh

That British Accent

Blaire woke up the next morning, the man she had met the night before was gone, she thought to herself, "I don't even know him, and I agreed to go on a date with him. I don't even have his–" she looked on the coffee table beside her couch, and there, on a sticky note, was a number, probably his cell number. She took out her phone, dialed the number, and waited for an answer.

He had driven home that night, to his house on the outskirts of Los Angeles, which was right beside the beach. It was a big, white, modern style house with wrap around views in the living room and his bedroom. He woke to his phone ringing on the table beside his bed, he picked it up and answered, "Luke Hemmings speaking."

"Hey, um, it's Blaire, you know from last night. Are we still on for that date?" She asked, her brain telling her to cancel, but her heart telling her to go on the date.

"Of course love, I wouldn't miss it." His British accent was thick, "I already have it planned out." He chuckled. "Still want me to pick you up at five?"

She smiled as he spoke, "yeah, five is great...what should I wear?"

"Nothing fancy, possibly something you wouldn't mind getting a little messy," he chuckled "not that you'll get messy, just don't wear super nice clothes," he added. "I have to go, take care of something, see you at five lovely."

She loved the way the words rolled off his tongue in that British accent of his, "see you at five." She went about her day, doing things around her house and trying to figure out exactly what she should wear. Eventually, she decided on a white crop top and some denim shorts with lace on the legs, along with some rhinestone sandals she had bought a few days before. She did her makeup, kind of the 'no makeup' makeup look. "I look good," she giggled to herself confidently. "Now I just have to wait." She sighed.