Imprinted → lashton [book one]

0.2

A/N: Since last chapter was so short, I tried to make this once a little longer. But, incase you don't know, this is based off of a Tumblr post I saw saying "What if you had a timer on your wrist telling you when you're going to meet your soul-mate?" I couldn't help but write this based off that, so yeah, enjoy.

edited on 11.22.14

Luke's P.O.V.

123.50.02

I'm now lying in bed again, rolled on my side while staring out the window into the dark night. I blink; every light in the neighborhood turns off by the time they opened. I'm swallowed by black. Barely any sounds are audible, not counting the lightly falling rain or the gently playing song.

I close my eyes, tuning out the rain, listening to new song, as it just changed.

Settle down with me,

Cover me up,

Cuddle me in.

I drift into thoughts again. What if they don't like Ed Sheeran, or Paramore? What if they think it's weird to obsess over people who don't know I exist?

I fall to sleep with anxiety that night.

-

106.23.12.

"Luke, you're over thinking this." I'm staring down the hallway looking at every person that walks by. "It could be anyone in the school, Cal." I look at the tan-skinned boy. He was wearing a light blue shirt with the words, "We Fuck Shit Up" printed on it. I'm still surprised they allowed it in school.

"I mean," he glances at his timer with that same flustered, worried glance. "Mine is in 2 days." I look at him in shock. He looks back at me, sending me a confused look. "What?"

I hit his arm, playfully but forcefully. "And you didn't tell me?" He laughs, nodding. "I knew you'd be making me pick out nice pants, and make me wear a tie and shit. So, no. I didn't tell you." I grin, nodding. "Yeah, I am going to make you do that." He laughs awkwardly, looking at the teenagers walking through the hallways.

There are so many different people in this school. Some are caring around notepads, laughing with friends, some are staring down at sketch books, drawing away, some are walking alone, staring at the ground, some are surrounded by people, chatting away as If they were talking to themselves, then there was Calum and I, who were standing next to our lockers quietly chatting about our timers.

Why is that all I can think about? Timers, timers, timers. My thoughts are interrupted by a loud bell, making the hallways to clear out.

-

I finally make it to my second hour, Science, and make my way to my table. I've always sat alone. I always talk to people who sit next to me; teachers have learned how to stop me.

"Since it's nearing the end of the year," my teacher, Ms. Sheerily started, I start tapping my pencil, "I won't keep you too busy." She begins handing out a worksheet. I sign, glancing at my time.

103.56.09.

I look up when the classroom door opens. A boy walks in with his book bag hanging off of one of his shoulders. He has curly dirty-blonde hair; he was wearing an oversized sweatshirt with the Nirvana smiley on it and black skinny jeans. "Hello." Ms. Sheerily says politely from the back of the classroom.

He nods, giving her a kind smile. "I'm guessing you're the new student?" He nods again, glancing at the ground, playing with his sleeve. "You may have a seat next to," she scans the room before sighing. "Have a seat next to Mr. Hemmings." She motions towards me. He walks to my table, throwing down his book bag by the table. I get a better glance at him; his curls fall on his forehead and bounced with his every move. He had beautiful hazel eyes and the small smile he gave me made butterflies appear in my stomach.

I look down at my timer; hopefully my soul-mate will be as beautiful as him. Mrs. Sheerily walked by and handed him the sheet. He looked down on it and I couldn't help to whisper the first three answers to him, he glanced at me and grinned, writing them down before she noticed.

By the end of class we had shared a few words, but he mostly ignored me, probably trying not to get in trouble his first hour in this school. Understandable.

-

96.12.06.

Lunch. Yum, eating cardboard. I glanced around the cafeteria over the circular tables, my eyes stopped when they saw the new student. He was sitting alone, with no food. He was playing with that hoodie again. He doesn't have friends yet? I sigh, looking back down at my food. I mumble an "I'll be right back" to my friends before grabbing my chips and standing up. I walk over to him, sitting in front of him. He glances up, that sad, blank look turns quickly into a smile. "Hi." He says simply. I chuckle at his quick response, handing him the chips. "You looked lonely." He looks at the chips with a worried look before slowly retrieving them. "Thank you."

Once I'm sat back down with Calum, he's staring at me. "What?" He looks at Michael, who decided to sit with us, who's giving me the same look. "You're making me uncomfortable, guys."

"Isn't that the new kid? I hear he's pretty strange." Michael says with a snicker, taking a bite out of his burger. I hope he realizes that's horse meat. "He was kind to me, so." I roll my eyes slightly. "Just saying Luke, don't get to close to him." I look back down at the cardboard with sauce and cheese on it that people call pizza before whispering, "Okay."

That boy never ate the chips.

-

During math, I saw him again, sitting in the back of the classroom, tapping his pencil on the desk. I sit in my regular seat, which was next to Calum. He was sketching something on a piece of paper. I tried to glance over but give up when he hides it, looking at me. "Sorry." I grin.

During the entire hour, I couldn't help but glance at him a few times. The 5th time I looked at him, he was looking at me. I smile at him quickly before turning around, looking at the numbers and letters sprawled across the board.

-

The bus rides back home are always boring. I always sit alone looking out the window, so I couldn't help the jump that happened when the seat sank next to me. I look over to see him. Is he following me? He's looking down at his hands as his thumbs fiddle together. "You know," he looks at me, "I never learn your name." He whispers, as if he's trying to make sure no one hears him. "Oh, I'm, um, I'm Luke." I mumble back. He nods, "What's yours?" He didn't reply at first, but he looks at me, giving me that smile.

"I'm Ashton, Mr. Luke Hemmings."