player ♚ lrh

29 - intensity

It felt unbelievably good to have her in his arms.

There was just something about it, something quite unlike anything else he'd ever experienced. The intimacy, perhaps. It was something he craved deeply but only with her, and only because of her.

And she loved it too. That was probably an understatement, because when he held her it was unlike anything else for her, just as well. The difference was, Elise was much more used to the gesture. She'd been around hugs and such her whole life, whereas the boy never shared that simple piece of intimacy with anyone. Before he met her, he hadn't ever wanted to.

Even so, Elise felt like it was different with Luke. He held her with such care and with such a protective nature it was almost unheard of. It was like he'd saved all that cautiousness inside him for her and for her alone, never bothering to waste it on someone else.

She felt safe with him, at just the simplest touch. A palm grazing her back, fingers lacing with her own, or a strong arm wrapping possessively around her waist; it was all so intentional, and so rare for him with anyone except his girl.

He kept everyone at an arm's length, but somehow he always wanted Elise close.

It worked rather perfectly, for she quite liked being as close to him as possible, whenever she could. And if he could help it, 'whenever' would be all the time.

Something had changed and it was the one kind of change Luke was willing to accept. She was his, and that's the only thing he really cared about. It felt like the tightness in his chest had ceased its uncomfortable twisting, leaving room near his heart for the things that mattered—which, obviously, was her.

It was obvious in the way he rushed to get out of the car and over to her side, reaching into the opened door to grab her hand by the wrist and swiftly tug her out, leading her while he made sure to keep her tucked closely behind him.

And it was obvious when she pried his hand from her wrist with her free one, stopping him dead in his tracks to turn around in concern, only to catch her shifting their hands just so they were actually laced together, and Luke suddenly found it a little hard to hear over the pounding of his heart.

She had just smiled proudly at him while he attempted to get his shit together.

It was a lost cause. He was so fucked.

That might've been why he didn't let her hand go even when they stepped inside his penthouse. In fact, he did the opposite, for when she tried to walk further inside he pulled her roughly back, contrasting with the gentle way he pressed a hand to her hip to keep her back against his chest.

He dipped his head down toward her ear. "Where are you going?"

Elise giggled. She barely got a foot away before he pulled her backwards. "I was going to the couch. Am I not allowed to?"

Allowed to? Luke raised a brow, though she couldn't see it. She wasn't being serious and he knew that—but that's not how Luke's mind worked. His was much filthier than hers.

"No." He decided then. "You're not."

"I'm not?" She craned her neck back, attempting to look at him.

"Not yet." Jesus fucking christ. He was digging himself a hole, picturing this exact conversation in a much more heated scenario, preferably one where where he had her begging, pleading through her whimpers for him to let her come, just so he could give her those same commanding words; No. Not yet.

Elise just thought he didn't want her in the living room, for some reason. "Why?"

Internally he wanted to groan. He sure did love to torture himself when it came to her, all while she stayed purely unaware. Outwardly, he remained stoic, keeping the frustration to himself.