somebody else. // lrh

piss-poor dating life.*

I shrug, taking another sip despite the alcohol burning down my throat. My body still felt a bit fuzzy and warm from the gin and tonics I'd consumed just a bit ago, this bourbon is definitely going to push me over to the edge. I may need to take Calum up on his offer for a ride- I'm not sure I could make it to the bus stop after this.

"Don't mind it- s'not my first choice, though," despite the alarm bells ringing in my brain and the swirling in my stomach, I pinch my nostrils shut and swallow the remainder of the bourbon.

"Atta girl," Luke cooes, inching closer to me and removing the glass from my hand. His long legs wedge between my parted knees, "Been thinkin' about you."

That's what he always says. Would it kill him to be a bit more creative?

"Yeah?" I play along, cocking my head with a small smirk, my hands falling behind his skinny jean covered legs.

"Yeah," Luke echoes, grasping my chin between his thumb and forefinger, bringing my gaze up to meet his own. His normally icy blue eyes were a shade of grey, dark and stormy like I was used to in moments like these. His jaw was tense, his lips pursed, eyebrows knitted together in thought.

I prepare myself for the normal slew of intoxicating, inappropriate words to fall from his pink lips, but they remain shut. This isn't a typical night with Luke. The emotion on his face was one I hadn't seen before- I couldn't pinpoint it.

He suddenly releases my chin, stepping back from between my legs and slow-steps over to the dresser, setting down my empty glass with a small clink as it met the hardwood.

"Luke?" I mumble curiously, my brows furrowed. Why weren't we naked by now? There's always a routine, Luke's a routine guy- he knows what he wants and that's why our arrangement worked so well.

He huffs out a frustrated breath. His fingers toyed with something on top of the dresser that I couldn't see from where I was sat, but my heart rattled against my chest as the anxiety began to seep in. Was he going to end this?

"You were on a date," Luke states, not bothering to look in my direction. His focus remained on the unknown object his long fingers fiddled with.

"Yeah," I reply flatly, "First in months."

His eyes meet mine. "Oh?"

I wasn't sure how to reply, seeing his eyes soften was something so rare for a guy like Luke. His previously furrowed brows had slowly returned to normal, but his jaw remained firm. He seemed almost surprised at my words.

"Mhm," I hum, fingers fiddling with that damn rip on my left thigh again, "Dunno why you seem surprised- given you're the reason why they never go anywhere." I hadn't quite meant to say the last part aloud, but the bourbon coursing through me blurred the lines between what should and shouldn't be said.

Luke's shoulders tense, the muscles in his arms popping underneath his fitted black shirt. "Excuse me?"

"Nothing, sorry." I blurt quickly, brushing my parted bangs from my eyes and shaking my head. Embarrassment flooded my pale, freckled cheeks- though I could barely distinguish that warmth from the heat radiating my entire body from the alcohol.

A small clink sound cuts through the daunting silence, whatever Luke had been toying with now forgotten after my little comment. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Um," I hesitate, "I don't- look, just forget what I said."

"No, no," he mutters dryly, "I'd love to hear all about me being the cause of your piss-poor dating life."

"I didn't mean it like that-"

"C'mon Avery, I'm waiting."

"You just," I blow a small, frustrated huff, racking my brain in hopes to find better words to use, ones that would make him less angry, "Everytime I end up on a date, which isn't often, you're always-"