wrapped books | lrh {rewriting} | joseph is dallas, rewriting still in process

1.5

Luke dropped me off home as soon as he could.

We walked to my front door together, he insisted that he would just walk me up to my front porch and leave.

We stopped, and stared at each other for a while when we reached.

I expected him to ask me if I was okay again, but I've been wrong before, "Did you finish that book I gave you?"

Because I was becoming a regular customer, Luke found a way to get me a discount that was about 15% off.

"Yeah, I did actually." I stared down the driveway, not spotting Dad's car, meaning it would be safe to have a chat with Luke inside and have him leave after a while.

I unlocked the door and walked in, opening it wider to allow Luke to come in.

"You want me to...?" He scratched the back of his neck.

"Come in." I rolled my eyes at him and grabbed his hand, yanking him into the house and closing the door behind him.

He took a look around, "Your house seems cozy." He remarked.

"Do you want anything to drink?" I asked, walking into the kitchen with Luke following in tow.

"I'm good." He leaned against the frame of the doorway. Folding his arms over his chest.

I walked over to the fridge, opening it, pulling out a bottle of water.

I stayed there, just drinking the water. I didn't know if I should take Luke into Mom's library or my room.

The book was in the library, but I also have to unwrap the kraft paper in front of him.

I decided that it wouldn't matter if Luke came into that room with me. Its not like he knew my life story.

"Come on." I pushed passed him, and dragged him behind the staircase by the sleeve of his sweater.

I carried out the usual routine, picking the key up, inserting it in the keyhole, unlocking the door, not opening it all the way and I squeezed through, pulling Luke behind me.

"What is this place?" Luke asked, scanning the area. He walked over the to the bookshelves and ran a finger past the title of the books.

"This was my mom's old library." I made my way to the lamp table and picked up the wrapped book.

"I guess you're genetic?" He chuckled, glancing over me before returning to look over all the books placed on the shelves.

His eyes wandered around the room, and landed on the piano, that was to the opposite of the arm chair.

"Does she play the piano?" He asked making his way over to the dusty piano.

"All the time," I nodded and smiled.

Well, used to.

She used to play so beautifully.

"Do you play?" He asked.

He sat on stool, brushing his fingers over the dusty fall board and lifting it up.

"No." I shook my head.

He pressed on a high key several times, but the sound wasn't tuned.

"Its out of tune." He said, a frown taking over his lips.

It almost seemed like he actually wanted to play it.

"That's because that piano is over ten years old," Luke looked back at me, blinking swiftly like he couldn't believe what I was saying, "it hasn't been tuned for two years."