"Oh, baby, senseless is a relative term."
⋆ in which a girl who ironically hates
change, meets a boy who ironically
endures pain to deal with a loss.
- angry!boxer!luke
highest rank: #655 in fan...
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"I don't know how to cook."
Nellie sat on Luke's counter, her feet swinging as she looked on her phone. A small notepad sat next to her, the girl trying to figure out how to properly prepare even a small portion of a meal. She was considering giving up and faking illness, after all it wasn't herself who had signed her up to host Thanksgiving. She knew that wouldn't have worked out because Luke would figure it out, and if he didn't her sister would have. Nellie groaned as she leaned back, the girl's head resting near the edge of the counter as she let out a groan.
Luke was standing on the other side of the room when he heard Nellie groan. He hadn't actually left his house that day because he promised to help Nellie with the situation he dragged her into; so now he was forced to practice at home, hitting the punching bag regardless of the fact Nellie was there. He paused in his actions, looking at the girl that laid on his countertop with her notepad over her face. He sighed as he took his gloves off, stepping over to her before she could utter another noise.
Luke stood at the edge of the counter, touching Nellie's waist before he moved the notepad. "Babe, you're going to fall; stop moving, or sit up." He said. Nellie pouted at this, sitting up as she watched him walk into his kitchen.
Nellie leaned back on her hands, the girl looking at Luke as he grabbed glasses from his cabinet. Nellie was mostly caught on how he looked. He didn't have a shirt on and his skin was shiny with sweat. The ends of his hair stuck together because of that, too, and his bandages were stained red from opening old wounds. Nellie looked back down as he looked in his fridge, the girl's mind still lingering on the thought of him. She leaned on her hands as he stepped back over to her, the boy handing her a glass of water. She thanked him quietly the boy only nodding before he spoke.
"Why don't you just get someone to come over and cook the turkey for you?" Luke asked. Nellie waved her hand at him, the boy missing her real issue. It didn't matter who was cooking what, Nellie just simply hated the idea of making Thanksgiving happen in her own house. It was already a mess without her cooking hardly anytime; she hated to think of how it would look after dishes piled up in her kitchen in pair with floors she would have finally put effort into cleaning. To her, it all just sounded counterproductive.
"Well one, it has nothing to do with cooking, well sort of nothing—okay, a lot to do with cooking, but also cleaning. I hate cleaning, and how would me cleaning and then everyone coming to make a mess be productive? I like to be messy on my own terms." She explained, making the boy give her a look as she laughed quietly as his reaction. She wasn't going to sway her thoughts because of a look, even if Luke was going to help her clean later. Nellie only waved him off as he opened his mouth, the girl interrupting him with more of her own words. "My dad—not the one you met, the other one—likes things done a certain way with the turkey, anyways; he refuses to let the rest of us even look at it before it's done." Nellie explained. "But we're all expected to make something, and Wilson would always make it for us. Now I'm stuck."
