I know I already updated today, but I couldn't help but write this. Consider it a bonus chapter, I guess? :)
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^Visual. Enjoy :)
P.S, this does lead off into the next chapter. As in, this is kind of just like a filler to show you how close Sophie and Luke are? Basically, the next chapter's events will take place straight after this happens :-)
❥
It's 11pm on a Tuesday night and I'm home alone. I hate being home alone; it rarely ever happens, and the few times it had had ended up in complete disaster.
Luke was out with his friends and, even though he did ask me to come along, I had no fake ID. And besides, I didn't even look my age of fifteen; there was no way I'd pass as an eighteen year old.
I sigh, rolling around the bed so that I'm on my stomach.
I did have the oppurtunity to ask Ashley if she wanted to come over. I should have taken it, but I would have felt bad if I made her come all this way just to watch sappy chick flicks and sit on our phones in silence.
There was always Chloe. But I didn't want to think about that; I didn't really want to think about her, in all honesty, because nowadays I had no idea if she was my friend or my enemy.
A chill runs down my spine and I shiver, the house eerily cold.
I look down at my pyjamas and sigh, seeing how thin the material actually is.
None of the clothes I wear at home are all that thick, to be honest. I usually just borrow Luke's to keep me warm, and he lets me.
Thinking of this, I hop off my bed and out of my room, walking across the hall to get to Luke's.
His bedroom door is cracked open ever so slightly, it's hinges almost completely falling off due to all the times he nearly locked himself in his own room. Dad just had enough of it, I suppose, because he loosened Luke's door the very next day.
I push the door open carefully and step into the room, inhaling the faint scent of Lynx deodorant and hair styling products.
I roll my eyes. Him and thatquiff of his.
Humming to myself, I walk towards his drawer and pull it open, smiling at all the neatly folded shirts and jeans that were carefully stacked on top of one another.
You'd expect a boy like Luke to have a messy room and an even messier wardrobe.
I gently flick through his clothes, my eyes landing on a black and white, 3/4 sleeve shirt with black stars on the arms. My heart stops as I pick it up, watching it inravel itself.
