Make it Stop ⇼ Luke Hemmings

Four.

Peeling my eyes open, I saw a sleeping Luke. He had a small frown indented in his features and his hair was sticking up in some places, other places it looked absolutely horrible. I smiled at the sight. He still looked so beautiful. Disgruntled and stressed out, but still beautiful. It's like he has my heart wrapped around his finger. But... It isn't tied. It's literally right in the middle. He jabbed it in there and now he can't get it out, and it hurts. It hurts to have him jammed in the middle of my heart and unawaringly jerk it around. It hurts to look at him and know the vulnerability he holds at this very moment is not for me, it’s for the girl he is dreaming about. I suppose he got hot in the middle of night, as his shirt was peeled off and thrown on the floor, he looked amazing, tangled in the mess of the sheets. The sun was beaming through the window, landing right on his body, my back was faced to the wall, and all I wanted to do was turn towards the cool, blue surface and bury my face in it, hide from the sun and the pain it inflicted on sleepy eyes. But I couldn’t turn away from him. I was finding too much bliss in the sleeping boy next to me. I wanted to roll over, and go back to sleep, but my face was pounding and I was nearly in tears from the headache it caused. I wanted Luke to roll over and kiss me good morning, but I knew that would never happen in a million years. He began to stir, and I closed my eyes once again, pretending to sleep.

 

Luke sighed quietly, and I could imagine him doing the cute arms-over-head stretch he does whenever he wakes up, placing his hands behind his head. Without thinking, I slowly opened my eyes, reaching up and rubbing them, quickly jerking away, as the pain from my stitches was immediate.

“Shit,” I cursed, holding my eye as I punched the mattress, trying to revoke the pain.

“You okay?” Luke asked, his voice slow, sleepy, and raspy. I looked at him, well, his lips, and I forced a smile.

“No.” I let out a dry laugh. Luke stood, collecting his old shirt from the floor and pulling it on quickly. and grabbing his car keys from the floor as well.

“We should go pick up your pain medication.” He said. I complied, standing and following him out of the house. We’d been in the same clothes for two days now, I was in his trackies and shirt that he lent me after I’d shown him my bruises, and he was in shorts and a black t-shirt, but I’d rather be in the same clothes with him than be alone. Luke opened the car door for me, closing it after I climbed in and nonchalantly walking to his side. As he drove, I took it to my liberty to dig through his things. “What are you looking for?” He asked. He wasn’t angry or surprised. It was like he simply did not care that I was going through his property.

“Sunglasses.” I mumbled, Luke turning onto a back road. He leaned in the door pocket, pulling out his sunglasses and handing them to me.

 

Before I put them on, I pulled down the sun visor, lifting the flap to see how bad it looked. Gasping slightly, I slammed the visor back up and quickly put the sunglasses on, unable to bear the sight.

“It’s not as bad as you think it is.” Luke offered sympathy, pursing his lips.

“Luke.” I spoke seriously. “I look horrible.” I frowned.

“I mean, yeah it’s horrible to see you like that…” He began, pulling at his hair in attempt to fix it. “But you’re still beautiful.” He glanced at me, to which I immediately looked away. Why does he keep pulling at my strings like that? “But have you seen my hair?” He joked, pointing towards his bed-head. I laughed.

“Your hair is outrageous.” I teased, causing him to laugh as well. As we shared our laugh, I unbuckled my seatbelt, sitting in the middle seat of his truck, pushing the cup holder up in the process.