𝐥𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 → 𝐥𝐮𝐤𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐦𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬

05. boy toys

friday,
september 4th, 2020

LUKE HEMMINGS

"Ezra?"

I blink, my eyebrows tugged inwards at the giggling mess that is my student flat out on the cobbled ground.

Her giggles cease by the second and she tilts her head, narrowing her chocolate eyes up at me. It makes me feel like she completely forgets who I am until her lips form an O and I almost have to slap myself across the face to keep my filthy thoughts from bubbling in my mind.

Fucking hell, Luke, I sigh, She's your student.

"Hemmings?" Ezra's tone rises an octave as she examines my face, which is undoubtedly scrunched in utter puzzlement.

"Ezra, what're you doing here?" I ask her, trying to be gentle as I grip her forearms and help her stand up.

She does so, grabbing on to my biceps to steady her swaying self. Once she realises that she's touching me, her eyes widen momentarily and she sharply retracts her hands. I clear my throat, bending down to grab her phone she still hasn't picked up. I hand it to her.

"Are you gonna answer me?" I bite back a smirk, "Or are you just gonna stand and stare?"

Ezra's pink cheekbones darken further and somehow, I don't think it's because of the alcohol she has clearly consumed, "Sorry. I— uh... sorry. Wait, I said that already. Sorry. Fuck, what did you ask me? Shit! I cursed again! Oh fucker, I cursed again, I—"

"Stop rambling," I interrupt her, bringing a hand to her chin and pushing with my thumb to seal her swollen lips. I lick my own, drowning in the way her brown eyes swirl drunkenly and the way her lips form a guilty pout. "Just tell me why you're here. Do you live around here? Where are your friends?"

Ezra blinks up at me, gaze flickering to my thumb that's still resting on her chin. I purse my lips, embarrassed, and pull my hand away from her face.

You don't just touch your students, Luke.

"You think I live here?" Her cheeks puff out as if she's swallowing a laugh that's threatening to spill out. "In Bromley?" Ezra snickers, ring-adorned fingers coming up to hide her giddy grin.

I frown, "What's wrong with Bromley?"

Her laughter only heightens, "Wait, Professor Hemmings, do you live in Bromley?"

My arms fold over my chest and I stand up straight, eyes on the boisterous, drunk girl, "No, actually, I don't. And would you stop calling me that? You're making me feel old."

"You are old," Ezra deadpans, laughter coming to an all time halt as she quirks a perfectly shaped eyebrow at me.

I scowl, "I am not old! You're, like, four years younger than me."

Ezra giggles again, stumbling closer and pressing an accusative finger in the middle of my chest. My arms fall to my sides and the greasy man from the coffee cart announces that my drink is ready. I turn away from Ezra, thanking him and paying for my hot drink.

"Right then, Luke," Ezra pipes up again and I swear I have to resist the urge to roll my eyes but I can't deny that I love my name on her tongue, "What're you doing here then? If you don't live here."

"I met a friend for a drink," I reply, sipping my strong coffee, "Your turn."

Ezra half-heartedly shrugs her shoulders, "I'm at a party. Well, I was, but then I saw coffee and I wanted coffee, now I'm not even sure which direction I came from."