Without You

Sequel Chapter 8 "The sour to his Skittle"

*AUBREY'S POV*

The week following my spider/ant incident, I walked around my room very carefully. I couldn't get the possibility that the ant took the spiders place to save him and that there still may be a spider in my room.

Luke has attempted to dismiss my theory but I'm not too sure he really knows what he's talking about.

My stomach lets out a loud growl and I look over at Luke's sleeping form. I pull at his arm that's around my waist and he lets out a deep, throaty sound of disapproval.

"Luke, aren't you hungry? I'm hungry," I turn in his arms and smooth down his messy hair. He grunts and holds me closer to him.

He's like an anaconda; the more you struggle to get out of his grip, the harder he grips.

I run my hand over his arm and after a second, I pull some of his arm hair. He lets out a hiss in pain, yanking his arm away, and although I feel horrible for committing such a mean action, I'm just really hungry.

And it's the bad hungry. Like the hungry where you're so hungry you could throw up, but there's nothing to throw up if you actually did throw up.

I shoot out of bed while I still can and he looks up at me with his cute tired eyes and bed-head hair.

"Is french toast okay?" I ask and slightly wince as he rubs his arm.

"I guess that'll make up for you injuring me beyond repair," a small smirk plays on his lips as he raises his arms up behind his head.

My eyes travel to his strong biceps and the smirk on his face grows, knowing exactly how to get reactions out of me.

"Stop," I point at his handsome face before walking into his bathroom. I put my thick, crazy curls up into a bun and I brush my teeth before heading out into the kitchen.

I grab the cinnamon to put in the french toast batter, something I know that both Eli and Luke love about my french toast and I get to work.

______________________

I hum to myself quietly as I dip the bread into the batter now making it 'french toast'. I hear footsteps behind me and I turn to tell Luke how long until it's ready, knowing he's probably now hungry.

An averaged height brown-haired girl stands at the end of the kitchen island and I jump in surprise, nearly dropping the slice of bread.

She adjusts her shirt, actually Eli's shirt, and she gives me a tight-lipped smile.

"Hi," I smile at her.

I'm glad I wasn't able to hear them last night at least. After all, Luke did threaten to sever Eli's jugular if he or I heard it again so I am thankful no sounds were heard. Although, I do remember falling asleep before Luke and I'm quite the heavy sleeper.

"Would you like some french toast?" I offer with a friendly smile, not wanting to make her feel uncomfortable by any means.

"You don't have to," she shakes her head.

"Oh don't worry, It's no problem," I assure her.

"I didn't realize Eli had a roommate," she voices from her seat at the island.

"Oh no, I'm not his roommate," I explain and her eyebrows furrow as a flicker of hurt crosses her eyes.

"I'm his roommate's girlfriend. Eli's a good friend of ours," I smile and the hurt dissipates.

I turn back around and focus on making the food, dipping a couple extra pieces of bread into the batter, and placing them on the pan on the stove.

A warm hand touches my waist and I look beside me to see Luke's bare chest. I turn towards him in his grip and I peek over at the girl who is trying to avert her eyes away from us and Luke's shirtless form.