If anyone sees us, and thinks it’s weird, they don’t comment on it.
Maybe no one does see us, and that’s why Luke isn’t in the process of being arrested right now. Because if I saw a tattooed and pissed off looking guy over 6 foot carrying a screaming, drunk, and upset girl over his shoulder as she demanded to be put down, I would be concerned enough to call someone. Someone big enough to stop him.
“LUCAS, PUT ME DOWN THIS INSTANT, YOU’RE NOT THE BOSS OF ME!” My screaming goes unnoticed by him as he gets out of the elevator to his floor, a few above mine. Being taken against my will did a lot to help sober me up, though looking down at the floor from this far up only made my initial nausea worse, even if I did get to look down his backside. I tried to ignore that part.
“LUKE, I SWEAR TO GOD, I’M GOING TO MAKE YOUR LIFE A LIVING HELL IF YOU DON’T LET GO.”
He ignores me.
Sliding out his keycard with one hand while holding onto me with the other is effortless for him. He storms inside his room with big steps, jostling me enough to show his displeasure.
Luke goes past the couches, the bed, into the bathroom, and it’s almost too much for my still semi-drunk mind to process.
The door to the shower pops open with a flick of his wrist, and suddenly, I’m being lifted off of Luke’s shoulder and onto the cold tiled floor as he reaches around me. The tile is cold against my feet, and I just now realize I’ve lost my shoes somewhere along the way. I’m momentarily stunned into stilling.
“What-“ The spray of cold water hits me mid-sentence.
Stepping back quickly, Luke closes the shower door in my face, oblivious to my screeching from the inside as I pound on the glass, trying to escape the water blinding me. It’s cold and pounding and helps clear my mind enough to remember to yell at Luke.
“LUKE!” I don’t even know why I’m screaming his name anymore, I just know I’m now cold, wet, and ready to murder him. The cold is seeping into my bones, dragging me down.
Luke laughs, but it’s not a humored laugh, it’s a dark laugh that would send shivers down my spine if I wasn’t already freezing.
“Are you sobered up yet?”
I feel around blindly for the water controls, feeling my mind grow a little sharper with the cold spray still pounding my body.
“Shit, yes, Luke, I’m not drunk anymore, now open the goddamned door!”
“Say please.”
“Hell no, now let me out!” The glass suddenly moves away from my fists, and I fall out of the now open shower into the towel Luke’s holding out.
He wraps me in the towel gently, at such contrast to his earlier actions. I jerk away from him, quivering like a leaf in a storm as the cool air of the room assaults my sopping wet skin, clothes, and hair. It doesn’t help that he’s staring at me so intently.
“Now, you can either change your clothes yourself, or I can peel you out of your clothes myself.” His voice is icy.
The look I give him makes him take a step towards me, pulling himself up to his full height.
“What am I supposed to wear?” I hiss, wrapping the towel around me like a blanket, well aware of the way my already risqué dress is now clinging wetly to my skin.
Without missing a beat, Luke takes the hotel robe hanging on the hook next to the door, and tosses it at me.
Before I can open my mouth to let lose the string of curses rolling around my head, he ducks out the door, closing it.
“You have one minute before I come in there and do it myself.” He reminds me.
I don’t think for a second he’s bluffing. I peel the wet clothes off my shivering body as fast as I can, donning the robe in record time. The extra material pools at my feet, covering them. Weariness envelopes my body and I want to wilt right there, I’m so tired.
When Luke storms in after only 37 seconds, I’m already attempting to remove the smeared makeup around my eyes.
“That wasn’t even a minute. You’re an asshole.” I tell him point-blank.
“Don’t even get me started on you.” Luke’s eyes harden further.
Satisfied I don’t look like a drowned raccoon, I seize the nearest comb and start to attempt to pull it through my tangled locks,
Irritably, he grabs the comb from my hands, picking me up in the process, considerably calmer than last time.
I don’t even bother to fight this time, just letting it happen, my cheek pressed against the soft worn fabric of his t-shirt. “Why can’t you leave me on the ground?”
Luke deposits me on the bed with his stuff scattered around it. It smells so achingly of him I have to resist burying my face in the covers and letting myself sleep.
“Let me do it.” Luke says quietly, the rage slowly ebbing out of his voice as he sits down behind me.
Almost instinctively, I move in between his legs, leaning back towards him as he gently starts combing out my long hair. He picks out the tangles carefully, not pulling on my scalp once. It’s nice, having his fingers in my hair again, just me and him in the quiet. It’s lulling my eyelids closed, letting the tiredness that had been riding me since I first saw again break me down.
I sigh. “I’m going to fall asleep, but I’m going to murder you when I wake up.”
His chest that I had fallen against without realizing vibrates beneath me with a soft laugh. “Go to sleep, Andy, I’ll still be here when you wake up.”
Telling him I’ve heard that before dies on my lips as I finally give in to the kind oblivion of sleep.
*okay sorry for the short chapter but I’m posting another one today to make up for it!*
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Stay (Punk Luke Hemmings)
FanfictionI never wanted to see him again. Luke Hemmings had screwed me over too many times already. But seeing him stand there in front of me, all black tattoos and silver piercings and blonde hair, piercing blue eyes, it's hard to hate him as much as I want...
