player ♚ lrh

26 - secretive

Elise couldn't quite keep her eyes open, and Luke couldn't fall asleep if he tried—not after what he'd done to her.

In fact, Luke had quite a bit of trouble focusing on anything that wasn't Elise after that. Granted; he didn't bother trying too hard to stop, but still, his mind was racing.

Everything always went back to her, one way or another. It was sort of ridiculous, and if he weren't completely powerless when it came to the little brunette he would've found some way to beat himself up for it by now. Mentally or physically. It's what he did best, after all.

She was on his mind constantly—something that would've annoyed him before, but now he found himself welcoming it. He liked thinking about her; about someone else besides himself for once.

It was odd, it was so unlike him, and he knew that. He just didn't really care anymore.

What he did care about was her. All night. Well after she'd fallen asleep on his chest, exhausted, and well after the night had passed him by. He barely slept but he didn't mind. He was more than content just lying with her, reveling in the way she relaxed against him and wrapping his arms around her like it was the most natural thing in the world.

It was starting to feel like it was. For him, at least.

And it was for her too, but Luke didn't know that. Or, rather, he did know that, but he had trouble accepting it.

He had trouble accepting a lot of things when it came to her. How she felt, for example, that was a big one.

Deep down Luke knew how much she liked him, ranging somewhere just a touch below what he felt for her—obviously. It might be close, but it could never be more—but it was a tough idea to grapple with.

He was trying, though, he really was. All night he'd been reassuring himself, that he hadn't taken it too far and that she was okay. More than okay, actually, for when he'd taken it upon himself to, repeatedly, ask the sleepy girl if she was, she replied with those exact words; more than okay.

And then he asked her again, just to be sure, before she dropped her head to his chest and mumbled it once more, half asleep and muffled by his shirt; perfect.

It wasn't that he didn't believe her; he did. That wasn't what kept him up all night. It was replaying the events; from his finger in her mouth, to her straddling his lap, to his hand between her legs—he just needed a moment to recover, was all. Just a long, deep breath of a moment.

And it worked, sort of. For the short few hours the boy actually was asleep, he wasn't consciously thinking about it.

Until he woke up, early, to the sight of a bare leg pushed between his and a jacket ridden halfway up Elise's torso; and it was back to square one. It was the morning, for fucks sake. He couldn't help most of it.

Luke sighed, the hand that wasn't around her coming to ruffle the wavy fringe that fell on his forehead. He was tired, reluctant to move and almost annoyed at the thought of having to untangle himself from her. He really wanted to stay.

But he couldn't. He had shit to do today, non-club related things that he'd been putting off for some time. The idea already had him bitter, pissing him off far more than it would've if he'd been in his own bed, alone. It would be much easier to leave if that was the case.

Both to his pleasure and frustration; it wasn't. So, reluctantly, he had to stop dragging his fingers up her side and he had to stop his careful studying of the sleeping beauty. And with a short, irritated sigh he had to slowly pull himself away from her, slipping out of her bed and slipping on his discarded jeans.