we don't belong here • lrh

Chapter eighteen | unspoken language

Chapter eighteen | unspoken language

All of it came flashing back in blur. His smile, his laugh, the way he bit his lip when he was thinking.

"It's not what you think, Val," Luke laughed as I pulled my dress away from his grasp. "I wasn't just about to try that dress on for money."

It was my turn to laugh at his terrible lie. Who the hell will put a dress on and lose their dignity for money? Luke Hemmings, that's who.

"Give me that," I said once I removed the dress away from him completely. In an instant, Luke tugged the fabric back and both of us fell onto the bed. I landed on top of the blonde and he landed on the soft bed. My heart quicken in speed when i realized our faces were a couple inches apart. He leaned up more as I leaned down.

Our lips connected and I felt it all, the sparks, crackle, and the pops. It was as if fireworks were exploding inside my stomach in that very moment. His lips moved skillfully against mine and I couldn't keep my excitement at bay.

It was like all that build up frustration of forbidden love was being let out through this one shared kiss. Forbidden because of the sad excuse I called a father didn't want it to happen. I was 17 at the time and Luke had just turned 22. Did we care about the age difference? No. Did we care if my father found us in the act? Hell no.

We loved to feel each of our bodies pressed against the other. It was an amazing feeling and I never wanted to feel this way with anyone else.  It was all fine until my father came home and Luke heard the door slam downstairs which caused him to spring away from me. He looked at me for a few moments, unmoving with no words coming out of his pretty pink lips. He was in a daze as was I. He moved forward again and pressed his mouth to mine for one last goodbye kiss.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Valentine," Luke said, my name rolling of his tongue like an unspoken language. I nodded my head with a small smile on my face to keep my even bigger grin from showing.

"See ya later, Luke," I said back and watched the blonde boy climb across the tree to his own window. He entered his room and shut the window softly, careful to not wake his parents. (He lives with his parents because at the time he was attending college). When he shut the curtains, I stood up and shut my window, the moonlight peaking through the curtains that are not yet closed.

It would have been a goodnight,  and I would've had a good nights rest if my father didn't scream my name. "Valentine! Get your pale ass out here!"

I was used to it. Him screaming my name to get him little things that he could easily get himself. Like to hand him the remote which was quite literally right in front of him, or get him a beer from the kitchen that was just a few steps away.

I ran downstairs as fast as my stubborn legs would go to make in time before my father screamed again only to run in a hand. That hand smacked me so hard across the flesh of my cheek that I nearly toppled over into the wall. I could feel the pulsating in my cheek as I saw who was inflicting the pain. Punch after punch, he hit me until I blacked out and entered my new life.