Imagine A World (Luke Hemmings a.u.) [in editing]

12 Dialogue

Madeline's POV

I wake up the next morning with Luke beside me. I try to remember last nights events. He's still fully clothed, thank goodness, as am I.

Then I remember. Truth or Dare. Talking. Feelings. Revelations. Love. Us.

I smile and shake him a little, causing him to groan.

"Happy Birthday, Lukey. You're legal now," I whisper in his ear, a smile tugging at my lips. He perks up and looks over his shoulder at me.

"Happy Birthday to you, too, Mad," he replies, sitting up and stretching his long arms, yawning.

"The boys probably aren't awake yet. It's only 8:15," I tell him, looking at my iPod screen.

"Yeah, probably not. Want to go out back?" he asks randomly. I nod. "Okay, I'll let you do what ever girls need to do in the morning. Meet me in a few minutes."

"Okay."

He grins at me and throws back the covers, swinging his legs around so his feet are on the floor. He strides to my door and smiles one more time before leaving.

I sigh and get out of the bed as well. I stroll over to my dresser, pulling out a simple blue t-shirt and my white shorts.

I get dressed, throwing my clothes from the day before into the laundry basket at the foot of my bed. I straighten my hair, put on a touch of concealer, and put on my favorite necklace, a cookie with my late grandmother's image glued on the back. I had made it when I was about 12. Then I go to find Luke.

I find him on the back porch. I slide the glass door open, stepping into the humid, fresh July air. He has his guitar.

"Hi again," I say, sitting on the ground next to his chair.

"Hey. You don't have to sit on the ground. There's room on the bench," he says, motioning to the cushion beside him.

"I know. I like being smaller than you," I say simply. He laughs.

"Not much you can do about that."

"You can say that again."

"Not much you can do about that," he repeats, smirking.

"It's an expression, Hemmo."

"I know, it's fun to mess with you though," he chuckles.

"Shut up," I glare at him.

"Come on, St. George, lighten up! We're 18! We can legally drink in most of the countries of the world!"

I laugh. "Yeah, but not this one."

"You think that's going to stop me?"

"Lucas Robert Hemmings!" I exclaim, slapping his hand.

"Madeline whatever your middle name is St. George!"

"It's Lily."

"Madeline Lily St. George!"

"Nice," I say, lying down on the wooden boards of the porch, letting my hair spread out, not caring if dirt or anything gets in it.

We don't speak for a minute. Luke strums his guitar thoughtfully, occasionally writing notes down on a sheet of staff paper that he had brought out with him.

"What are you writing?" I finally ask.

"A song."

"Obviously," I roll my eyes. "What kind of song?"

"Um, a song, like, one that you play guitar to and sing and stuff?" he says, more as a question than statement.

"You're very straightforward, you know. I like that." I grin. "You're also very cheeky."