clandestine.

three. part one.

(((this didn't start off as a lashton fanfic and it's going to seem like that a lot so enjoy the ride)))

one.

two.

three.

I woke up to the sound of the shower running. turning in the sheets i'm tucked in. this isn't my bed. a whine leaves my lips. my head is loaded with hangover from the excessive amount of booze i probably consumed last night. i can't even remember what day it is.

i sit up slowly, trying my hardest to not make a sound. before my eyes open i realize i'm at his place. i rub my face. where the fuck are my clothes. i grab my phone from the side table, looking at the hundreds- literally h u n d r e d s of texts and calls i have missed from all kinds of people.

well shit luke. shit.

i wait to hear any sign of the only other person in this apartment. nothing. he still takes long showers. I make my way out of bed looking for something to wrap around my waist. no. i don't have a boner. i'm really fucking cold.

i find a pair of sweatpants in one of his drawers and i put it on. nobody's gonna know i'm naked under these pants. I mean, i'm for sure not telling.

i fix my way to the kitchen. I still remember his place as good as i remember my own- if not better.

i fix myself some coffee. he has some french bread packed in the freezer so i heated it up, looking for the caramel syrup to add to it. I fucking love his mom's french bread. she would always make it for breakfast when i came over to his house, i would usually choke on it at least ten times. no it wasn't bad. It was so good. but he would whisper sexual jokes and phrases in my ear while pouring the caramel on my bread that it gives me that burning feeling in my chest, making me want him more.

i feel my cheeks light up with the memory hung up in my thoughts. if anything, i'll blame my heated cheeks on the coffee. I run my hand through my hair looking around the living room. he really hasn't changed at all. neither has the was he makes me feel. like a teenage girl meeting justin bieber.

I get comfortable on the bean bag he has in the corner of his bedroom, examining the room we wrecked yesterday. a smirk makes its way to my lips, i open the mini drawer next to the bean bag and reach my hand to the back of it, grabbing the notebook he writes all his secrets in.

oh i'm gonna love this.

-

oh i'm gonna love this.

i saw him looking around, the innocence in his eyes is still there, even when he denies it a million times. he keeps making sure he can reach down to his side hip or ankle whenever he needs to pull his gun or pocket knife out. he's still the same.

i smile at the memories of him in my arms back when i could hold him whenever i want. the fact that he isn't my boy anymore and i haven't felt his lips on mine in forever breaks the sweat on me, i'm nervous.

he makes his way towards me from the crowd so i do the same ending the conversation i was having with i-don't-know-who

we talked for a little bit before i couldn't handle seeing his lips move anymore so i leaned in. i miss him. to my surprise he leaned in too.

the way he felt under me, his voice, the love bites we painted on each other's skins. the sweat from our bodies from the chemical heat between us. the way the night ended, with his body rested on top of mine was purely perfect.

goddamn it luke. i still fucking love you.

i woke up slowly trying to push him off of me without waking him up. he's so fucking soft. i make sure i cover him properly, giving him a small kiss on the forehead before going to the shower, it's gonna take a while to forget about the way he makes me feel.

i let the water run down my body, i wonder if he remembers what happened last night. because to me, everything we do is unforgettable. i smile yet again at the memories. i'm done with washing myself yet quickly, but i stood under the water for a little longer.

i'm so mesmerized by the thought of him.

i hear his light footsteps around the house, smiling at the thought of him trying to walk around without making sound so i wouldn't know he's awake. those little things he does. I shake my head turning the water off when his footsteps go to the kitchen. he knows his way around.

by the time i got dressed with some boxers and shorts after i fixed my hair in whatever style this is called i realized i can't hear his footsteps anymore. meaning he stopped walking around.

i make my way back to my room, taking quick looks at the kitchen and living room to see where he was, as soon as i walked in the room i saw him reaching to reach for my notebook from the dresser in the corner.

i never cared if he knew my secrets. he knew everything about me anyway. he just got the pleasure of sneaking up behind my back and reading what dark, fluff or random shit i write in there. i stay leaned by the door watching him skim through the pages blushing at the facts he hopefully never forgot.

the last thing i wrote in there was, "i miss him." where i underlined and put a tiny star next to him, on the same page was a picture of us together from a while back. i knew he was on that page when his rosy cheeks turned to a little more than a blush when the picture fell down for the book.

he went to pick it up and that's when he saw me there. "i always knew awkward hemmings was my favourite hemmings." i chuckle making my way over there. i pick the picture up and we both said the date, at the same time as if it was a song we memorized.

i gave him a small smile and sat on the bed, watching him. he put the notebook back to its sacred spot and stood up. before i could say a word his phone started buzzing again. i looked over at it before looking at him. he was already walking around to reach for it. he put his finger over my lips and picked the phone up.

"for the love of god. please shut up" he rubbed his finger to the side of my lip and answered the call.

"hemmings."