*Luke’s POV*
As the movie ended thunder cracked and shook the room and the rain loudly hardened on the building. “I guess you won’t be getting back anytime soon” I laughed, lifting my head from her warm shoulder.
“That’s okay, I don’t want to leave yet” she said, giving me a beautiful smile while pushing her hair back behind her ear.
“What should we do now?” I asked biting my tongue at the way that had sounded. “Well, we could talk or whatever… or rob a bank, steal someone’s dog… stuff like that” she said straightening her back up, making it crack loudly.
“Okay… what should we talk about then? I asked. “Wow, you’re no fun. I was really hoping you’d be all for the bank thing” she laughed, which made me laugh too.
“But this is like the perfect opportunity to talk about that one song that makes no sense!” I grumbled. Minimalist frog had this one song that literally made no sense at all but was very catchy, and of course I just had to ask about it. Like where does “hump backed genealogist hiding under your bed with a hatchet” come from?
“Well what do you think it’s about?” she said, turning her whole body towards me, sitting indian style.
“I always assumed it had no meaning” I said, making her eyes narrow and a smirk bubble up on her lips. “Everything I write has meaning to it” she said.
“I knew you wrote it, even though you never publicly said you did” I said, starting to get shy under the glare of her eyes.
“I’m surprised you know about that song, a lot of our fans just like the singles” she sighed. “I love them all” I blurted.
“I like that one song… ugh, what’s it called? Heartbreak girl or something? I’ve listened to it like thirty times, it’s well written” she said, giving me this weird look and I was totally smitten by the fact that she even listened to one song.
“We had a lot of help with that one; we’re all pretty good at concepts and key phrases, but we can never get shit to flow right by ourselves… it sucks” I said, a little pissed off at myself. Being in the presence of one of the better song writers in the business was so embarrassing.
“If you ever need help with anything, I’d be more than happy to-“ she began but I had to cut her off. “Do you mean it!” I squealed.
“Yes” she laughed. With that I quickly ran over to my luggage and pulled out my journal.
I had this one song I’d been working on for ages, and I knew if anyone could help it was Phoebe.
I flipped to the page that the atrocious song was on and tried to hand it to her but she shook her head. “That’s your journal, I can’t just, you know” she said.
“I want you to” I said, giving her a huge smile, trying to tell her it’s okay.
Finally she took it and read over my scribbled words. “What’s this about?” she asked when finished. “It’s about finding someone I guess. Like being in a huge ocean with fish all around you… and not wanting any of them… knowing they aren’t right for you” I said, trying to think of how to explain.
“That’s a good metaphor, you should use it!” she said, reading over the words again. “You are the master” I said, sitting back down on the bed.
“Here look, let me show you something” she said, turning the notebook to me and began again “Instead of ‘Searching is like running but without enough time’ you could break it up. ‘Running. It is searching. It’s timeless. It’s forever.’ And that adds an urgency” she said.
“Sing it. I need to hear it sung” I said. I had to hear it sung to understand it. “I don’t like singing” she whined.
“Yes you do! You do it all the time!” I said, shocked at her. “It’s different right now… you’re better than me…” she said, breaking eye contact with me.
“That’s not true… everything you do is wonderful” I said, putting a friendly, just friendly, hand on her shoulder.
Within a few short hours she’d taught me so much about writing and songs and stuff like that. It was almost like being at school…. And having a hot teacher… in a class that I actually like.
“Wow, it’s late, I really need to get back” she sighed, looking at the window, closing my journal.
I looked at the time, seeing that it was already 8:20. “Phoebe, I don’t think that’s a good idea” I said following her to the bathroom.
She picked up her clothes, that were still wet, and told me “Lucas, it’s okay, it’s not that bad out there.”
“It’s still raining and it’s dark and there are shady men all over the place, you can’t go out there by yourself” I said, trying to get her to understand the danger of the situation.
“Look Luke, I know you’re worried but I’m not going to get raped or shanked or shot or mobbed” she laughed. “I literally heard all of that happened just yesterday on the news!” I shouted as my annoyance with her stubbornness grew.
“I’ll be fine” she said, rolling her eyes trying to exit the bathroom, but I stopped her, blocking the exit. “You’re not leaving” I said as seriously as I could.
She threw her clothes down onto the floor angrily and crossed her arms “Oh? And why is that?”
“Because I said so” I said, moving my body onto hers, making her back up all the way back against the bathroom counter. I pressed harder against her, trying to make her know I’m serious.
“Okay, okay” she said, trying to avoid my eyes as they peered down at her. “Tell me you won’t leave me” I growled. A weird side of me was coming out that I couldn’t control. These weren’t my movements or my words.
She didn’t answer me, and I couldn’t stand it. “Answer me now” I sternly said, pressing myself harder against her cold body.
“Yes sir” she choked out.
