savior || luke hemmings

ch. 16

“Luke.” I simply said as I watched him sleep. He was lying flat on his back, chest rising and falling in soft breaths. I brought my finger up to his exposed abs, tracing circles onto his smooth skin. “Luke, c’mon wake up.”

He moaned and rolled over to face me, slowly opening his eyes and smiling sympathetically.

“Listen, about last night-” I was downright ridiculous the night before. I felt really bad about it but, it was the only way I knew how to cope with the new found information that I just learned. I caused a scene, smashing things and yelling at the top of my lungs; it’s no wonder that the cops weren’t called.

Luke brought a finger up to my lips, “shush. Stop apologizing. It’s totally understandable that you acted out. You just found out some pretty fucked up shit.”

I pressed my lips tightly together, not wanting to press the issue any further. Luke had clearly forgiven mean for the ruckus I caused last night.

Luke stretched, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. He walked toward the bathroom and I followed him like a duckling follows its mother. Stepping into the small, cramped space, I nudged Luke with my hip causing him to laugh a bit.

I turn on the sink and run the water, holding my hand under the faucet until the water reaches the right temperature. Splashing some water onto my face, I lather the soap and scrub away the tears and makeup from yesterday. Once again using my finger as a tooth brush, I finish off with some mouthwash before leaving Luke to finish his morning routine and heading back into the hallway.

Stopping at the mirror on the far end of the hall, I take in the sight of my new self. I hadn’t given myself a proper look when I was in the bathroom and now my mouth is agape. What the fuck did I do? My beautiful, bouncy, curly auburn hair is now styled in a pixie and beach blonde. In all honestly, I look like a female version of Jeremy Sumpter in the live version of Peter Pan. I feel the presence of someone behind me and sure enough, a hand is placed on my shoulder.

“You look just as beautiful as you did before this drastic,” he waves his hand, “change.”

“Stop being such a kiss ass, Luke.”

“I’m not a kiss ass, I’m just crazy about you.” He smiles and places a quick kiss on my cheek.

He leaves my side and jogs down the stairs, presumably heading toward the kitchen. I follow him, sliding myself onto one of the bar stools in the center of the kitchen as I prop my elbows onto the island. Luke opens the refrigerator, taking out milk and a carton of eggs. He then moved over to a cabinet, taking out what looked like flour and sugar.

“What?” he said, smirking, “don’t you like pancakes? I’ve been told I make the best pancakes.”

“By who?”

“My mom.” He simply shrugged. “Want some strawberries in ‘em?”

I nodded and watched as he placed all the ingredients in front of me on the counter before turning around and grabbing a red bowl. Very skillfully, he measured out his ingredients before he started to whisk. He looked at me and wiggled his eye brows, causing me to laugh.

“You’re making me bacon too, right? Because I can’t have pancakes without bacon.”

“Of course. And orange juice.”

He smiled before placing some of the batter in a heated pan, leaving it to cook as he went into the refrigerator once more, taking out a slab of bacon and a carton of orange juice.

I watched as Luke moved about the kitchen, pouring and flipping and sizzling up some food. It suddenly dawned on me that his parents weren’t home. Here it was Christmas Eve and his parents were nowhere to be found which undoubtedly struck me as odd considering how close-knit of a family they were. I was about to ask when Luke sat a plate of food in front of me, a glass of orange juice beside it.