Bro Code : Luke Hemmings IN EDITING

Chapter Twenty-Three

"Is that where you write?" I nod towards the desk covered in papers.

"No, I have a secret spot," he says quickly. I can feel my eyes question his quick words. "I mean, sometimes I write here, but when I'm really stumped, I go to my spot," he tells me.

"Where is it?" I ask, being nosey. 

He smiles, "If I tell you, then I'd have to kill you." 

"I see. I see," I walk over to his bed and sit down, he follows.

"Of course, I could show you, if you really wanted," his eyes look like they want me to say yes.

"I'd love that," I smile. His face lights up. He slings his guitar over his shoulder and excitedly pulls me to my feet. We quickly walk down the flight of steps and out of a back door. We briskly walk through his yard. I expect to stop somewhere here, but we don't. We step in the brush, through the trees that line his backyard. We still don't stop.

"Luke, where are we going?" I ask. We've been following the same path for a couple of minutes now, which means that he must come out here often. 

"Just trust me," he looks back with a smile. After a couple more minutes we stop in front of a rather large tree. My eyes follow the broad trunk to the house built at the top. "My dad built it for me when I was little," he smiles up at it. "Come on," he puts his hand on my back and leads me in the direction of the ladder on the back of the tree. It's a pretty high climb, but I'm not afraid of heights. 

I start up first. I look behind me to find Luke climbing. "Careful, the top notch wiggles a bit," he tells me. I pop open the door to the tree house and pull myself through. A couch is set against the far wall, it's much bigger on the inside than I thought it was. Papers cover the floor. "There's a light up there," he looks towards the ceiling.

"They have plugs out in the woods?" I laugh. He brushes the front of his shirt from the dust and dirt. I look down and notice I've got a bit on me as well; must've been from the doorway.

"My mom got creative one day. It's a bunch of flashlights hooked to one button," he smiles. I push it and watch the rest of the room come to life. The colorful walls are filled with drawings done by a child; Luke when he was younger. It's a kid's play house that Luke hasn't outgrown.

"How did you get a couch up here..?" my mind suddenly sparks.

"It was hard, believe me. We borrowed my uncle's lift, carried the couch through the woods, then pushed it in by the window," he shakes his head, probably remembering the struggle, realizing how funny it is when you look back. I plop down on the sofa. 

"How does this place help you write?" I ask quietly.

"It was my favorite spot when I was little," he gives a crooked smile.  His fingers trace one of the monsters on the wall. I stare at him as he's lost in his thoughts. "When my parents would yell at me, I would run up here and stay out here all night. I would wake up in the morning with a pillow and blanket; not just once, but everytime. When I come up here now, I look around and think about how good I have it. When I'm stressing over something small, I can look around and let my little kid take over. I know that sounds stupid, bu-" I cut him off.

"It's not stupid. It sounds like something I wish I had all my life," I assure him with a smile.

"The little kid gets creative when the teenager has the weight of the world on his shoulder," he fakes a smile, more for himself than for me. I drop the topic, but his words stick in my mind; the truth that's laced within them is impeccable.

"Play me something?"

He sits down next to me and puts his guitar on his lap. "What do you want me to play?" 

"Something you wrote," I ask.

"I wrote this one with Michael. He actually wrote a lot of it. Is it okay if I play it?" he asks.

"Of course," I smile. "What's it called?"

"Lost Boy," he says. He starts plucking the strings. I lean back and watch him. It's so effortless. "I remember the last time I saw your face, I feel so lonely without the crowded space," his voice fills the air around us. "You left me without direction," he continues. His voice carries. He sings each line and I can't help but think that Michael may have wrote this song with me as an influence. Waiting for someone like me to rescue him. I think to myself. I never rescued him. "Cause without you I'm a lost boy; without you I'm a lost boy. Come find me, I'm a lost boy," Luke's voice sounds almost apologetic. 

When the song ends, I'm nearly speechless. "What'd you think?" 

"If you can't make it, I don't know who can," I smile.

"Thanks," he leans into my side. I lay my head on his shoulder as he continues playing music from his guitar. 

"It's so pretty," I say as the melody continues to fill the room. 

"Thanks, I guess all the  hard work pays off," I lift my head from his shoulder. His eyes are pouring into mine. "So, do you like my secret spot?" his lips hold a faint smile.

"I love it. It's peaceful," I tell him. I want to kiss him. I don't know if it's because he just put his whole heart into that song and completely stole mine, or if it's because he's one of the most attractive, yet misunderstood person I may know. The more time I'm around him, the more I realize that he's different than what I thought. His eyes are soft and tender. Mine are locked on him, unable to break the trance. Great. He probably thinks I have a staring problem.

His face becomes more serious as he moves closer. I lean in this time, no longer wanting to wait. His lips are centimeters from mine. His minty breath fans over my cheeks. My stomach flutters as his lips reach mine. The fireworks go off again. How is this possible? His lips cover my bottom lip. He pulls away, but returns with one subtle kiss to my lips. I can feel my face heating up, my cheeks must be crimson. 

"I don't think I'll ever get used to that feeling," he whispers. I let out a breathy, nervous laugh.

"I won't either."

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bam. short short short #lokey chapter. MORE ON THURSDAYY!

I originally was going to have you get a shit ton of votes and comments, but that hardly seems fair because this chapter is short as fuck. 

#MICHOPE shippers! There will be some drama for you to feast on in the upcoming chapters! But as for you #LOKEY shippers, I hope this filler chapter suffices. I'm running late for work, so I'm sorry it's so short. :(

100 VOTES         +         70 COMMENTS        =        THURSDAY CHAPTER

This date is still not over. I know. Like hurry the hell up Madison. I don't wanna read about the same date for 239823 chapters. I assure you, it's almost over. :)

-Madison