Stay (Punk Luke Hemmings)

Chapter 13

“Stop making noise, I’m trying to sleep.” I moan into my pillow, trying to block out the sounds of rustling movement from across the room.

All I get is a laugh in response, and it’s definitely not the laugh I was expecting. It’s deep and full and runs down my spine.

It all rushes to me at once- the scent on the pillow that intoxicates me, the throbbing in my head, the plush feeling of the robe against my skin, my still damp hair, Beckett and Luke and alcohol and Luke shoving me into the shower and brushing my hair and falling asleep on him.

I jolt up, eyes flying open, taking the room that’s definitely not mine, the robe around me that’s definitely not mine, and scent surrounding me that’s definitely not mine. The open curtains still show black skies outside, so I haven’t been asleep that long.

Luke’s a few feet away from me, rummaging through his suitcase, back to me. He’s shirtless, shorts slung low on his hips. My eyes trace the curve of his spine, the sharpness of his shoulder blades. There’s a bruise on his side.

I see the opportunity, and I take it.

The pillow hits the tattoo on his left shoulder blade, off of where I was aiming, but a hit none the less.

As I expected, Luke whirls around, humor dying from his eyes, replaced with anger. All traces of sleep are gone from my system, all the anger and hurt and jealousy and pain from before rearing their heads.

“I swear to god, I’m going to rip your head off.” I swing my legs out of his bed, robe swishing around my ankles. Going around him, I grab the first pair of his boxers I see in his suitcase, tugging them on under the robe.

“For what?” Luke’s back straightens, body becoming rigid with anger.

“For what? For WHAT? FOR BEING A COMPLETE DICK, THAT’S WHY. YOU FUCKING KNOCKED BECKETT OUT.” My voice steadily gets louder. I grab a shirt from his case too, turning my back to him as I shed the robe and throw it on.

He laughs. “That’s the part you’re concerned about? And why are you wearing my clothes?”

“Because I’m not going to do this with you while I’m only wearing a robe.”

“Do what? Tell me I’m being a dick? Princess, I already know that, and you didn’t seem to have a problem with it when you were falling asleep on me.

“That was a mistake I won’t be repeating. You took me against my will and shoved me in a cold shower, I was tired and that was easier than fighting.”

Luke points out the obvious. “We’re fighting now.”

“I’m just getting started with you. Why would you do that? Why? Why would you take me from something I wanted to do? Why do you suddenly care what I do?” It comes out with more angst than I meant it to.

Luke looks determinedly straight into my eyes, making sure I feel every word he says. “I was upholding a promise I made to you a long time ago.”

“What?” I’m dumbfounded, expecting almost anything other than that.

“The day you disobeyed me and went to go talk to AJ, and ended up having that panic attack, I promised you that if you ever did anything that stupid again, I would come get you and haul you out over my shoulder. And what you were doing tonight was stupid as fuck, so I came and hauled you out over my shoulder. ” In agitation, Luke runs his fingers through his hair, messing it up further.

I just gape at him, searching for words that are lost in the fact that Luke remembers that. I didn’t think he remember any promise he’d ever made me. He didn’t act like he did, at least. “You had no right.” I finally stammer out, wishing my voice was stronger.