5SOS Imagines

Luke - Late Nights

Author: Rhine

-

6:53AM

.

He's fighting to keep his eyes open, more midnight than afternoon in the blues that you liked so much – though you know if you wait just a little longer, you'll be able to see the sunrise in the eclipse of his eyes.

Stay up for me?

He's not much of a night owl, but he swears if the moon shone half as bright as your smile than maybe he would be.

Besides, he could spend hours counting the constellation in your late night eyes.

You're past the point of speaking now, all of your words exhausted hours ago – he's drawing roadmaps over the valleys of your spine and he's made a home in your collarbones, your steady heartbeat his alarm to staying awake.

The tips of his blonde tresses tickle the bottom of your chin as he shifts, nuzzling your neck and placing a ghost of a kiss on the sensitive skin, feather-light as a dream.

He's almost asleep and you're almost awake; it's almost the start of tomorrow and it's almost the end of today.

You're frozen in between words, in between his arms; shadows of his long legs bathed in midnight shadows and twilight blue, sheets tangled like the remnants of yesterday and limbs intertwined with yours into tomorrow.

The sky outside the window lightens, casting sloping shadows across his upturned cheekbone, smooth lines and marble skin, pale pink lips on yours that make you feel like you're stepping onto the moon for the first time and seeing your world in a whole new light.

"Good morning."

He whispers the words like dawn's first breeze that settles on your skin like morning dewdrops, eyes an ethereal shade of sleepy wonder with the waking world outside.

"Did you have a good night?"

The question is light from your lips, the world around you crystal with the fragility of its first few minutes like a child's first steps; everything suspended for a wonderful moment, a state of blissful being.

"I think I'm still dreaming."

You think you might be too, flying somewhere in the expanse of his twilit blue eyes.

-

11:11PM.

.

He tells you to make a wish and you close your eyes.

It takes you a full minute to confirm your wish with the voice in your head sending it off to the stars in the one minute of far-flung childhood hope.

When you open your eyes again, he's staring at you with amusement in the waves of blue.

What did you wish for?

You ask him playfully and he winks back; it's a secret.

You pout and he grins; why can't you tell me?

He caresses your cheek with his thumb and his lips are oh-so soft on yours, blue eyes almost an azure when they flutter open again.

I'll tell you this: I wish for the same thing every night.

And Luke won't ever tell you, but whenever the clock strikes 11:11, there's only one thing that blossoms in his mind.

I hope all of her wishes come true.