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Dear Isobel,
If you want to run with your friends ideas of me, then you must be an old lady who spends her time slipping razor blades into halloween candy. I'm not innocent either, though. I've always liked forty-year old men with murderous tendencies. Think about it, Is; we could be the next Bonnie and Clyde.
Do you really not like your friends much? You seem bitter about it, if I'm being honest. Friendship's different for guys, I guess.
Remember when I told you about my friend throwing up in the backseat of my car? That was Calum, one of my best friends (i guess?). He's really loud and goofy, particularly when he's drunk. He's probably my closest friend out of the boys, if it came down to it. Then there's Michael. He's the most laid-back, but really sarcastic at the same time. You'd like him, I think. Finally, there's Ashton. He's really nice, kind of quiet. My mum calls him 'an all 'round good guy', and all the girls we meet gravitate towards him. Calum's a close second, and he hates it. Jealous, I guess?
I don't get how being a cancer suits me, still. They're really clingy and emotional, aren't they? I mentioned it to Michael and he teased me about it and told everybody. They all bug me about you.
Maybe, Is. If it happens. You haven't even heard me sing (yet?).
I don't know... I don't really think you'd like me in person either. I'm not half as smart-sounding or clever. But I don't think we can just keep doing this without meeting each other, you know? At least I don't think we can. I can't.
Later,
Luke
P.S: damn. franky?
YOU ARE READING
white blank page // luke hemmings
Fanfiction✉ in which a misaddressed love letter brings together two unlikely people ✉
