dedicated to @versatiled for her support, i lub u c:
✿l u k e✿
Eleanor and I agreed to meet at Steak House—where, apparently, they serve the best sizzling steaks and gelato in Queenstown. The restaurant was located at the pier, where it overlooks the sea. I figured it would be a great place for a date, since it won't be too romantic and too formal at the same time. Just imagining the lights in the sea reflecting in her eyes was enough to make me float even higher.
We were supposed to meet at 7pm, but due to my nervousness, I spent too much time being early, but now I don't want to make it seem like this date was more important to me than it is to her. So, here I am, seated on a bench across the Steak House waiting for Eleanor while trying not to crap my pants. I brought my notebook with me, since it's the only way I could communicate with her. I once thought of bringing a Ouija board, but figured it sounded funnier in my head.
At around 7:30, I finally see what looked like Eleanor's car parking in the lot. I wait for her to get inside before looking at my reflection on the glossy lid of the trash bin beside me and making my way towards the Steak House.
I shove my clammy hands in my pockets once I enter the restaurant. Eleanor is sitting on the balcony, which was separated from the inside by a clear glass wall. There were less people there, so I have fewer reasons to be nervous.
Don't fuck this up, Luke. I clutch my notebook tighter and slowly approach where she is. My eyes are on her, and her only, and because of that, I run into someone accidentally and end up plummeting down with him, along with the contents of his serving tray. The couple seated on the table beside me gasps and brushes off the spaghetti that was supposed to be their meal off their clothes.
"Oh god, I'm terribly sorry," the waiter says, quickly standing up to tend to the distressed customers. Everyone is looking at me—at what a clumsy mess I am. I wanted to apologize so bad, but how can I even do that?
"What, you're not even gonna apologize, you douchebag?" the guy at the table says, making the move to approach me.
I run out of the restaurant. Once outside, I cross the street immediately with tears brimming my eyes. I didn't want Eleanor to see how much of a fuck-up I am, and the moment I got the chance to prove to her that I'm just like everybody else and not like everybody else at the same time, I did something so humiliating that I may as well put a bag on my head forever.
"Luke, wait!" I hear someone scream from behind me.
Of course it was her. Only Eleanor can make me feel so warm after such a terrible predicament. Only she can slice through my insecurity and make me feel like I'm worth something.
I turn around, and there she is. Eleanor. Eleanor in her ripped jeans and The Neighborhood shirt. Eleanor under the green streetlight that's making her eyes stand out like a diamond in a pile of charcoal. Eleanor standing in front of me and noticing me. Eleanor Eleanor Eleanor.
She slowly walks over to where I am. I hold my breath without even noticing and look down at her. She's the perfect height, wherein I can hold her and her head would be right against my chest so she can hear how my heart's beating for her, and only her. She's frowning at me. I'm extremely frowned-upon, but I can't seem to point out what she's frowning at in particular. Is it my idiocy? How I rushed out of there like the coward I am? How I didn't even bother to apologize?
Out of all the things I imagined her saying—which involved insults on how much of a loser I am—what she said was completely unexpected. The good kind of unexpected. "It's okay," she says softly.
And instantly, I knew that it is. That it will be. All my life, I needed that kind of reassurance. Heck, I almost begged for it. But I never could, because I knew it wouldn't make any difference. But as Eleanor Matthews told me that it's okay, that it's okay of how much a fuck-up I am, that it's okay even though I ruined our date, and that it's okay, everything will be okay, I realized that I only needed the right person to tell me that. A promise.
And I believed that more than I should've.
✿✿✿
Mr. Dixon is a sneaky little bitch.
While we were in Eleanor's car, she began to tell me how she spoke to Mr. Dixon after class and learned a thing or two about me. She asked him why I don't talk and why he's my only friend in school. Not only did Mr. Dixon tell her facts I've been struggling to tell her, but he told her unnecessary facts too. Like how I think she reminds me of peppermint because of her eyes and like how I like the way her pants fit her so well. Needless to say, I'm very embarrassed and the only thing I can do is roll my lips into my mouth and stare out the window.
There are three things that I just can't comprehend: 1) how Mr. Dixon went behind my back and did that despite me begging him not to tell the things I tell him, 2) how I'm still in Eleanor's car despite this horrid night, and 3) how she accepted that I am what I am and chose not to talk about it on my behalf.
"Oh come on, Luke," she says with a cute giggle, "hey, your pants fit nicely too."
I glance at her and instantly, the corners of my mouth lift up into a smile at just the sight of her. Here I am in Eleanor's car, when just a month ago, I never even imagined being five feet away from her. I type something on my phone and show it to her.
I have better legs than 99% of the female population.
She lets out a loud laugh and uses the steering wheel for support. "I can't believe how true that is."
Where are we going?
She purses her lips and tries to regain her composure. "We're going to my two most favourite places in the world. McDonald's and some place special."
I scrunch up my eyebrows and realize that I've never pictured Eleanor somewhere where she's completely comfortable and away from the expectations of everyone around her. At school, she's Eleanor Matthews—the prettiest and most popular student. The her everyone sees everyday isn't genuine. I've never pictured her somewhere where she's raw and doesn't have to worry about the judgement of everyone else, whether it be positive or negative.
You're not gonna tell me, are you?
"One huge sack of nope," she replies childishly as she swings her head from side to side. Suddenly, her stereo begins blaring out First Date by Blink 182. Eleanor's face contorts into genuine happiness as she screams out the lyrics. "IN THE CAR, I JUST CAN'T WAIT! TO PICK YOU UP ON OUR VERY FIRST DATE! IS IT COOL IF I HOLD YOUR HAND? IS IT WRONG IF I THINK IT'S LAME TO DANCE?"
I've always wanted the chance to speak again, and this is one of the moments where I'm trying to will my vocal chords to work. I want to sing with her, but I can't even do that.
We finally arrive at McDonald's. Eleanor didn't even bother to lower the volume of her stereo as she was about to order.
"Welcome to McDonald's," the voice on the intercom says. Then, out of nowhere, the guy began screaming along to the lyrics of the song. "LET'S GO, DON'T WAIT, THIS NIGHT'S ALMOST OVER!"
"HONEST, LET'S MAKE THIS NIGHT LAST FOREVER!" Eleanor continues. I furrow my eyebrows and look at the line of cars forming behind us.
"FOREVER!" the guy sings.
"AND EVER!" Eleanor continues.
"LET'S MAKE THIS LAST FOREVER!"
"FOREVER!"
"AND EVER!"
"LET'S MAKE THIS LA—"
Eleanor is cut short by the loud beeping of the car behind us. I hold my breath as my anxiety begins to slowly seep in. I'm just really uncomfortable in situations wherein I feel like I'm burdening so-and-so, even if I'm not the one singing along with the intercom instead of ordering to keep the line going.
"Oh my god, okay, okay," Eleanor finally says with a huge smile on her face. "I'll take the regular, along with a—"
She looks at me with an expectant smile so I hastily type in my order. Nuggets pls. Eleanor laughs and tells the intercom my order.
"So who's the lucky guy you're buying nuggets for?" the guy informs. I roll my eyes and cringe as I hear another horn blast behind us. "I'm seeing Vi tomorrow, by the way."
"You need Jesus. Her attitude is vile as all hell," Eleanor continues, unaware of or just simply ignoring the line of agitated customers behind us. "And, you know Luke? Yeah, I'm with him right now."
"Go on to the next window, there's a long line of impatient fat bastards behind you ." Eleanor puts the gear shift to drive and I swear I can almost hear the relief of all the impatientfat bastards behind us.
We arrive at the next window and I see the guy who always hangs out with Eleanor and Ashton. "I ship it," Michael says with a knowing smirk.
Eleanor laughs as she hands him her money. "My one true bae is Matty Healy, excuse you."
"Fuck you for that night and excuse you, but he's mine," Michael retorts. He carefully gives the plastic bag filled with my guilty pleasure and gives me a small smile. "Hey Luke, if you hurt her or even touch one strand of her hair tonight, I will end you. Have a good night!"
Eleanor teasingly rolls her eyes and pulls out of the drive-through while I slump down on the seat, contemplating whether Michael's threat was genuine or not.
"Don't worry about him, he's just messing around," Eleanor reassures. "And I was totally kidding. Of course I ship us. I just wanted to remind Michael of that time I got to talk to Matty Healy while he was at home eating his sadness away because his mom didn't allow him to come."
I shrug my shoulders, not knowing what the hell she's talking about. Suddenly, an idea pops in my head so I quickly type in something. Speaking of ships, let's play a game.
"Um, what?" Eleanor stammers with an unsure chuckle.
You'll be Titanic and I'll be the iceberg and you'll go down on me.
And that's how I ended up with fries down my pants.
a/n:
oh hey it's the year 2020 guys im sorry i took this long to update
at first i wrote a rlly cute date night but realized luke is the kind of guy to trip while he's making his way towards his crush and yeah i like this version better omf and holy crap michael is such #friendgoals i
bTW GUYS WHY DOES SAM CLAFLIN LOOK LIKE ASHTON SO MUCH IM SO MINDFUCKED and i cried while watching love rosie byE
thank you guys for your support, i lub u all -angelika