aggression | luke hemmings

Chapter Thirty Two

Luke's POV

My eyes fly open at 9. Becca is still asleep but I untangle my arms from around her body and brush my teeth. I run a hand over my hair later and see Becca sitting up in bed, clutching her stomach.

"Hey, what's wrong?" I ask, frowning as I sit next to her.

"My stomach hurts," she mumbles, literally wincing in pain. I lift her up so that her legs are on my shoulders, I kiss her stomach and whisper things like I had before. Although she's in pain, Becca laughs and kisses the top of my head. I set her down and she stands up to brush her teeth and hair, holding her stomach the whole time though.

I walk down to the kitchen and search for some Tylenol. I find the small bottle of pills and get a glass of water for her, laying them on the table. Becca walks slowly down stairs ain a minute, now wearing cream colored sweats and a white band t-shirt. Her eyes are directed at the pills on the table, and she sits down across from me.

"How many of these do I need?" She asks.

"You're 21, right?" I ask. She nods so I look at the side if the bottle for however many pills she needs to take: 2. I pour two into my hand and give them to her.

After swallowing them, Becca lays her head on the table with her arms hanging down at her side. I try to hold in a laugh because it looks funny but it comes out as a muffled school girl giggle, and I am glad she can't see me blushing like a cherry right now. Becca stays in that position for a few minutes, eventually her arms snake over to her stomach again. I swear I can't help it but I stand up, and pick her up like I do almost every night now. I kiss her lips briefly and lean against the kitchen counter, staring down at her. I notice that her stomach has gotten a little bigger throughout the past few weeks, and it's cute to be honest.

I chuckle to myself and smile when Becca throws her arms around my neck for support. I walk over to the lounge and sit on the couch, picking my phone up off the coffee table. It reads 9:28, and I have a reminder on my phone that says: Monday, court @ 4.

I frown down at the screen, and Becca looks up at me with a puzzled expression on her face.

"Court is at 4:00," I say quietly. Bec nods in acknowledgement and sighs. She lets go of me and walks back upstairs, probably to change. I follow her but get in the shower.

As soon as I turn on the hit water and step in, my nervously tense muscles loosen up and I sigh at the relieving contact. I wash my hair and body and dry myself off. When the towel draped lowly on my hips I walk into the bedroom, Becca is laying down and staring at the ceiling but she is changed in a tight black dress. I pick up some nice clothes to wear and return to the bathroom.

When I finish putting on the black jeans and white t-shirt (I will put on a dress shirt later), I brush both my hands over my damp blonde hair. Becca smiles when I sit down next to her again. She stands up in front of me, pecks my forehead, and goes to style her hair in the bathroom mirror. I watch as she literally ties her hair into a knot in top of her head, pinning down the extra part, but it looks really good with her classy attire for Court. She applies chap stick and lip gloss, puts on a few bracelets, and sits back next to me.

"You look nice," I compliment.

"You don't," Becca teases. I playfully push her arm, chucking. "I'm just kidding, you always look nice."

"Thank you. I could say the same about you, Bec," I shrug, making her smile. I wrap my arms around her waist for a few minutes and look at the retro clock on the wall. It's already 11, I guess I take long showers? Or maybe I zoned out again without either of us noticing.