sired • luke hemmings/5sos [au]

twelve // preparation

IT IS JUST BEFORE SIX in the morning when Luke wakes me up for 'training'. Honestly, if it wasn't for him puckering his lips and soothing me awake in that sweet, Australian accent, I probably would hit him. But, he damn-well knows how to be adorable. In fact, when we are getting ready, his cuteness level goes to an entirely different point.

I am shrugging on my tank-top and running pants when he comes over and rests his head on my shoulder. "Won't you be cold?" he asks, kissing my exposed skin tenderly. The feeling that courses through me almost makes me yelp in surprise and pleasure. "I think you should take a jacket."

"No, I'll be okay," I say, turning around in his arms. "Plus, I'm sure you'll find a way to warm me up."

"True." He looks like he is pondering on that thought. "But I'm not sure if the big bro would be happy with what I have in mind."

I roll my eyes. "Don't get too excited. I was thinking more along the lines of a hug?"

Luke huffs. "You sure know how to put a guy down, Pearce."

"Am I a Pearce, or am I a Hood?"

He purses his lips. "Fair point. Come on, Cal's waiting for us downstairs."

"How do you-" I am cut off by his secretive wink and broad grin.

Luke takes my hand and entwines our fingers, and I can't help but smile as the sparks warm me up again. I an really starting to like them. We walk down the stairs - well, Luke walks down and drags me along with him - and stroll into the kitchen.

Calum is sat at the table eating a bowl of cereal. This doesn't surprise me, because Calum doesn't cook. He wouldn't if his life depends on it. He has this thing where he can't cook and won't cook. Can't because he is too terrible of a chef - seriously, the last time he was let near an oven, we ended up buying a new one. He won't cook because he always has someone to do it for him.

"You're eating already? Damn it, I guess Luke will have to eat your pancakes," I say with a smirk, knowing he lovea my pancakes.

His face drops. "No, no. I can still eat pancakes. Get them cooking, I'll manage," Cal says, and I start to laugh at him.

"I'm not making pancakes this morning. I'm too tired, thanks to Mister Early-Bird here," I say, motioning towards Luke, who rolls his eyes.

"You would've been kicking yourself if you overslept," Luke points out with a shrug, pulling out a chair next to Calum, and sitting himself down.

My replying expression is a slightly disbelieving one. "So you'd rather me kick you?" I raise an eyebrow, crossing my arms over my chest. Luke just grins, a mischevious glint in his eyes.

He snakes a hand around my wrist, and pulls me down to the chair that is next to him. "You're not gonna stand up all morning, are you?" he questions, quirking a brow. I ignore him, and pour cereal into one of the bowls that are stacked in the middle of the table.

Adding milk, I make myself a glass of orange juice, and start to dig in. Luke follows suit, and we eat our breakfast in silence. I can't help but wonder how today will pan out. Calum seemed really pissed last night, so how is he feeling now that we are actually starting to train for this war? He is being unbearably quiet, and I have no idea what he is thinking. I look around Luke so that I can eye my brother, who notices my stare and stops chewing his breakfast.

"What?" he asks cautiously, his dark gaze intently trained on me. I can imagine myself gulping.

"How are you this morning?" I ask, my tone an octave too high. I don't want to annoy him, especially after the previous events.