Mend Me? ➸ hemmings a.u

16. Tyndall Effect

A/N: yes my preferences just reached 3M reads. INSANITY

Who knows how long I spent in Luke's arms. All I know is that my hair was bone dry before Luke shifted from underneath me and positioned himself at my side, deciding to pull me back towards his chest by my lower back. I smiled, for some reason causing his breath to hitch. "You okay?" I searched his eyes, only to realise he was searching mine. "I-I've never seen you smile like that," he breathed. "So beautiful," he mumbled, and with his fingers preoccupied, had nothing to do but blush and avert his gaze.

"No," I stopped him quickly, "I like it when you look me in the eyes." He locked his gaze with mine again and I swear I saw those blue tiger patterns somewhere deep inside them. "Your eyes are really pretty," I mumbled. "Yours are," he argued quickly, making me chuckle. I looked momentarily up at the cloudless sky, and found no difference in its colour from his eyes.

"Wait! Do you know your eyes are the sky?" I asked randomly and he laughed quietly. "I know they're blue, but-" "No really," I interrupted. "There's a spongey layer in your iris, and mine has melanin, which make them brown." He nodded. "But your spongey layer has no melanin, which makes it clear. Though it does have floaty particles, which cause the Tyndall Effect. Different colours have different wavelengths, and the particles in your spongey layer scatter the blue ones. It's the same effect that makes the sky look blue," I smiled. His brows furrowed, obviously not understanding my explanation. "Your eyes aren't really blue, it's an optical illusion involving the scattering of light that enters your iris," I clarified seriously, but he couldn't help but burst out laughing.

"What?" I pouted. "I knew that," he admitted. "Then why'd you-" "I thought it'd be cute watching you try to explain it," he smirked.

We lay there in a completely comfortable silence for longer, me almost falling asleep in his arms. Unfortunately, during this time, my mind refused to be at peace. My moronic brain couldn't stop my mouth from asking, "how's Rose?" He sighed and placed a finger on my lips. "How's you?" He changed the subject. "Amazing, now," I smiled and he nodded. "Me too. I like looking in your eyes because it's like-" "an abyss?" He huffed. "No, like chocolate. Or teddy bears. You never see a teddy with blue eyes, that'd be creepy, I'd be freaked out," he rambled. "Stop trying to make my eyes feel special. They're blushing," I joked. "You're the first person ever to say your eyes blush." "You're the first person ever to make someone's eyes blush." He leaned in slightly to kiss the tip of my nose.

"You're my teddy bear," he said, seeming to regret his words as soon as he realised them. He closed his eyes and shook his head. "Am I, now?" I taunted. "I like to cuddle you," he bit his lip ring. "And I want to take care of you," he added quietly. I smiled. "But I'm doing a terrible job, obviously, because-" "Shh, we never speak of that again," I told him.

"Come on, we better get going." He picked me up with ease. I felt his chest rumble with laughter at my squeal. "You're just too cute," he whispered in my ear, causing shivers to run down my back.

So you could say the messy files in the drawers of my mind were pushed aside for a little while. The incident with Rose, to her disappointment, was no longer eating me alive. If anything, I'd thank her devilish ways for pushing Luke and I closer together. I spent the rest of that afternoon sewing together the symbolic tank top. My terrible skills left it looking like something Frankenstein would wear, but Luke said it'd make it more punk rock.

I jumped onto the creaky bed of hell, feeling a thousand times more happy than the first time Luke was over for the project. I think it's obvious my current joy is due to Luke's confession of love.

I despised Romeo and Juliet for falling in love that night at the masquerade. I despised Shakespeare for making me believe in love at first sight. I despised Luke for not running towards me in the halls the moment our eyes first locked. This universe, although, wanted to make love difficult for me. Luckily this love isn't as problematic as Juliet's, though with the devil on my heels it might as well be Shakespeare at his desk writing out this play himself.

Just before the darkness of my eyelids pulled me into the most peaceful sleep I'd have in a while, a piercing ringing startled me wide awake. I groaned and tried grabbing for my phone amongst the nest of blankets around me. I gave up eventually and cuddled back into my pillow. The disturbances, however, refused to leave me alone. My mum started banging violently on my door shortly after. "Ava!" She yelled. "It's Michael on the phone, he says it's urgent!" She yelled. I was out of my bed in an instant, flinging open the door and snatching the phone from her hands. "Michael, are you okay?" I asked quickly. "You have to come out now, I'm-" he took a moment to breath. "I just got to your door." Then I heard the knocking through both the phone and from downstairs. I heard my mum open the door in a rush. "Ava!" He'd hung up, and I was already gliding down the stairs. "What's wrong?" I asked, and the look on Michael's face was the strangest and most unsettling expression of terror and joyful anticipation. Though when he caught my stare, it softened to one of regret and sorrow. "I'm fine, but first of all-" he finished his sentence with a hug. "You were so brave. I'm so proud. My little warrior," he whispered. "I'm sorry," he apologised again, his voice breaking. "It's okay, Michael. What's happening?" I asked, needing to know what was so urgent. "You need to come with me," he demanded, taking my hand and pulling me out into the cold air of the evening.

The wind screamed and tore against my ears and skin as he wrapped his arm around my shoulder and directed me to his car. "You need to see this. If it's actually happening, oh my gosh," he seemed to be at a loss for words. I slammed the car door shut and the deafening sound of the wind was instantly transformed into an ominous rumble. I watched as Michael's wide eyes focused on the road as he drove.

"It is a good or a bad thing?" I decided to ask. His eyes flickered to mine for a moment, thinking of the right response. "Depends on how attached you are to the devil."