play the game | l.h [on hold]

17. close as strangers

CLOSE AS STRANGERS

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The last thing Blake expected to wake up to was someone knocking on the door to her hotel room. Initially, she thought that the loud, obnoxious noise was a part of her dream. But, as the knocking continued, she soon realized that there was actually someone at her door.

"Myles, you said five," she grumbled as she looked at her phone, seeing that it was just barely four in the morning.

With tired eyes and heavy feet, she trudged to the door to tell the man to leave her alone, as she still had an hour until they needed to be ready for their departure. "Myles, I swear to — Luke?"

The unexpected blond stood in the hall, wearing black sweatpants and that hung dangerously low on his hips and a gray long sleeved shirt that displayed the broadness of his shoulders. Balling her fists, she rubbed her eyes to ensure that they weren't deceiving her. "What, uh — what are you doing here?" She questioned, her voice teetering in hesitation.

"I needed to talk to you," he said quietly — as if he spoke any louder, he'd wake everyone up.

"I told you I didn't want to talk."

"Over text," he retorted, pointing a finger at the girl. "You didn't say anything about talking in person."

Blake couldn't help but roll her eyes. "Okay, well now I'm saying it; I don't want to talk to you. In person." Despite this confident statement, she made not effort to close the door. She stood still in the doorway with her grip on the handle, wearing her t-shirt and a pair of frog pajama bottoms.

Luke quirked an eyebrow, leaning against the door frame with his arms crossed over his chest. "You're awfully still for someone who doesn't want to talk to me."

"I'm waiting for you to leave."

The blond hummed with a small nod. "Well, I'm waiting for you to shut the door."

"Well then I guess we're gonna be here awhile," she shrugged, copying his actions as she leaned against the open door. "I hope your bags are packed."

Luke's head peered around her body to inspect her room. "I don't think yours are," he said, lazily gesturing toward the array of unfolded clothing items surrounding her suitcase.

"It's a work in progress," she mumbled. I knew I should've packed last night. "And none of your business."

"Blake," Luke breathed, her name easily slipping off his tongue — like he'd said it hundreds of times before. "Come on. I — I'm trying, here."

The girl found herself growing irritated all over again. She thought that she made her feelings clear last night, yet Luke was standing in her doorway at four in the morning, looking at her with his bright blue eyes that she couldn't possibly turn down.

"Why did you lie?" She asked, repeating the question that had yet to be answered from last night.

"I don't know."

"That's not good enough," she sighed, leaning off of the door in order to shut it.

Luke's hand hit the wood in a hurry to block it from being closed on him. "No, wait, please," he pleaded quietly. Skeptically, Blake paused as she pursed her lips impatiently. "I — I was scared. I was scared because I didn't want you to realize who I was and then leave."

"What?" She questioned incredulously, absorbing his words. "Why would I do that? Spoiler alert, Luke, but I actually like talking to you. I don't care whether you're a famous rockstar or the guitarist in a 'small band'," she quoted with her fingers.