Demons (hemmings au)

Thirty-Seven

Luke’s POV

I wake up the next morning with blonde hair all over my face. Well this is certainly different than the way they wake up in the movies. I sputter, removing some of the hair that has fallen between my lips before brushing the rest away, looking over to see Ellie curled up into my side her head resting lightly on my shoulder. I move some of her hair that has fallen over her eyes and tuck it behind her ear. As I turn on my side she moves closer to me, her legs curling up so that her knees hit my own legs. 

I can’t help myself from gazing at her face as she stays asleep, her mouth slightly agape as she breathes in and out, her hair much curlier from the shower last night, and the shirt that has slid to expose her bare shoulder are all perfect. She looks perfect sleeping on my shoulder. 

I lay flat on my back again, keeping one arm underneath her as I start to think. I am finally at peace, more content than I have been in a long time. I think about what Ellie told me just a few days ago: the guys that ruined my parents, my life are finally getting punished for what they did. I’m here, Ellie is with me and I feel as if she is happy. I hope she is happy with me. 

I lightly trace my lips over her temple, wanting to kiss her but not wanting to wake her up at the same time. I run my fingers up and down her back as I pull her in tighter to me, not wanting to let her go. I can’t help but break out into a smile as I feel her stir in my grip. 

“Good morning,” I say quietly, resting another light kiss on the top of her head. 

“Morning,” she whispers, her voice still heavy with sleep as she brings her head up to give me a small smile. I peck her lips lightly and feel her own lips mold to meet mine, the kiss not leading to anything more as I lay my head back down on the pillow and she lets hers rest back on my chest. I watch in silence as she starts tracing circles into my shirtless hip bones with the tip of her finger, not needing to say anything. 

“Hey El, what do you want to do with your life?” I ask suddenly. I remember her always saying her parents want her to go to medical school and follow in their footsteps, but I also remember her saying that is not what she wants. 

“What?” she asks a question in return, raising her head to look at me in confusion. 

“Like if you don’t want to be a doctor, where do you see yourself in ten years?” I ask, really wanting to know what she wants to do with her life. 

“I don’t know, I’ve never really thought about it,” she mumbles, laying her head back down as if embarrassed to look me in the eyes. “I guess I’ve kind of always wanted to write, but I know that’s not possible,” she continues quietly with a shrug of her shoulders. 

“Why not?” I respond, finding it very fitting that she wants to be a writer. 

“My parents always told me that writing wasn’t a real job, that there’s no way I could make money off of that,” she replies with a sigh, still not looking at me. 

“You can be anything you want Arielle Howell, if you want to write then you can be a writer,” I answer truthfully, pulling her face up so she has to meet my eye contact. I see a small smile come across her face before it disappears again. 

“What about you? Where do you see yourself in ten years?” she asks after a few seconds of silence. 

“Honestly?” I ask, knowing right away what I see for my life in ten years. She nods, letting me know to keep going and I take a deep breath before answering, a little nervous about her reaction. “I see myself with you,” I murmur, watching as her eyes go wide before they light up and a small grin forms on her face.