8| "it's 3am, luke!"
Slowly and reluctantly, I lift my face from the soft confines of my pillow. Blink once, close my eyes for a second, and blink again. Screwing my fist into my eyes, I squint in the dark and turn my eyes over to peek at the alarm clock on my dresser. Fuzzy, red numbers read that it's three in the morning, and I let out a low groan.
Ugh, why the hell am I up?
Throwing my head back against my pillow, I stare up the ceiling and prepare to go back to sleep. Then I hear it. The low, mellow hum of a acoustic guitar. The sound travels blatantly and relentlessly around my room and I groan again.
That's why.
My eyes flutter shut in annoyance. Luke can not possibly be listening to music at this hour. The guitar stops abruptly, and for just a quick minute I think that he's done. Unfortunately it starts up again, this time someone singing along with it.
Rolling my eyes at the ceiling, I huff, "I'm suddenly starting to miss New Jersey." Sitting up, I pull my covers back off of me, before throwing my feet over the side of my bed and stumbling out into the hallway.
Yawning, I run a hand through my hair and sleepily knock against the door, "Hey, Luke?"
The music stops again and then there's a lot of rustling and movement, before finally after a long minute the door pulls open; revealing a shirtless boy. Luke's still wearing his jeans and he steps out and looks down the hallway, before staring down at me. "Um, what's going on? What, did little Annie have a nightmare?"
I sigh, "No, I didn't have a nightmare, you ass."
"Good, because I am definitely not the guy for that." He sighs, relieved and then he lifts an eyebrow, "So um, what do you want?"
"I want you to stop playing that damn ruckus!" I grumble, resisting the urge to stomp my foot. I am so tired, and on the verge of being annoyed and him acting this clueless obviously doesn't help. "I can't sleep."
"Ruckus?" He repeats, nodding. Then he cocks his head and says in amusement, "Well -- I didn't think it was all that bad, Annie."
"What are you even do-, you know what, I don't care. Do you know what time it is?" I ask, exasperated. He shrugs, and I groan, "It's 3AM Luke! Can't you wait until tomorrow to listen music?"
"No."
I throw my head back, frustrated and then I glare at him, "Do you like making me mad?"
He shakes his head from side-to-side, really quickly like a little kid, and smirks. "Not-uh."
"I think you do, Luke."
"I don't aspire to make you mad, Annie. Really, I don't." Then he grabs my wrist, and tugs me into his room, "Since your up, you might as well help me with something."
"No!" I pout, trying to rip myself free from his hold. "I'm tired, stop."
"Oh, well just go get in my bed." He suggests, "There's enough space."
"What?" Then I stop pulling, because I realize that I am in Luke's room. I've never been inside or actually seen any part of Luke's room and the thought makes me pause; curious.
Next to me a laugh sounds from the tall boy and lets me go. "So, you like that idea?"
At his words my smile drops. I shake my head, "What? No. Of course not, I've just, I've um, you know -- never been in your room before."
"Oh." He says, quietly. Eyebrows narrow and he looks up around his room before shrugging, "Well um, what do you think?"
"Well," I start as my brown eyes follow his gaze. Luke's room is warm and vaguely smelling of cologne, and to be honest, it look's a little too small for a tall guy like him. There's clothes piled up on his desk, some folded and some messily scattered, and a bunch of faded superhero and music posters hang on the walls. A collection of CD's dominate his nightstand and bookshelf, and I walk over and pick one up.
"I was actually expecting some Playboy posters on the wall," I mumble, flipping the CD over in my hand, "All Time Low? Kind of a cliché if you ask me."
"Sorry, I didn't live up your expectations." He laughs, walking over to me. He gingerly plucks the CD from my hand and sets it down. "Stop touching my stuff."
I blush, thinking of the car ride we shared earlier. Turning away from him, I look around, "So um what exactly did you need me for?"
"I didn't really need you. I just wanted y--." Luke pauses, glancing over his shoulder and then he looks back at me, "Wanted you to hear something. Come here, look." He takes a seat on his bed, and grabs a notebook from underneath his pillow, motioning me over.
I start in the direction of his bed and then I stop; stalling. "Hey, no offense Luke, but I so don't want to hear your love poems to your booty call. Thanks but no thanks." I mutter, rolling my eyes.
"Stop being such a drama queen, Annie, and get over here." Luke sighs, shaking his head.
He leans over, and grabs a pen and for some reason, I find myself in awe of his hard, lean frame. I try to tear my brown eyed gaze away from the pale outline of his magnificent form, but it's no use.
His devilishly handsome features shifts into a knowing grin as he catches me staring, and I blush. I mean, asshole or not, Luke is still a guy! A pretty darn hot one, too.
"Can you at least put on a shirt!" I cry. Because seriously, if I'm gonna be behind closed doors with a guy all alone, he's gonna have to be dressed.
Especially, Luke.
"God Annie, you are so annoying." Putting his notebook aside, he jumps up and grabs a shirt from the floor before pulling it over his head, "Better?"
"Much," With a smile, I pounce on his bed and stick my bare feet underneath his covers. They're super soft and warm and I sigh, before snuggling down further into his bed and yanking them up over my shoulders.
Luke stares at me and I roll my eyes, "Deal with it! If it weren't for you, I'd be in my own bed under my own warm covers."
He shakes his head, and smiles before walking over to me and sitting down, "I didn't say anything."
He crosses his legs, and then reaches over under his bed to grab something before setting it on his lap. I gape at him.
It's a light brown acoustic guitar, it's pretty big, and there's these colored bracelet stringy things that are wrapped around the end.
"You play the guitar?"
"A bit," he admits.
"And you sing?" I say, a bit incredulous.
He nods, "You can say that."
Shaking my head, I let out a light laugh, "Oh, Luke. What can't you do?"
Smirking, he bites his ring and whispers, "Unfortunately, you."
I roll my eyes, and lean back against his pillows. They're soft against my cheek and they smell like aftershave and mint and Luke. Let's just say it takes me every inch of self control to keep myself from burying my face in the fabric and deeply inhaling his smell.
"Can you just hurry up? I'm tired."
He sighs, and nervously glances at me before he starts to strum. Then he stops and looks at me, biting his lip, "Please don't laugh, okay?"
I nod, "Alright."
"I mean it, Anastasia."
Huffing, I say, "So we're using first names now? I promise I won't laugh, Lucas."
He stares at me, and then nods and looks down at the guitar, before his fingers start to move skillfully across the strings,
"I need your love to light up this house,
I wanna know what you're all about,
I wanna feel you feel you tonight,
I wanna tell you that it's alright."
The notes flowed perfectly into each other, and I took a deep, calm breath before sitting up and staring at the boy in front of me. Don't laugh? More like, don't cry. What the fuck, Hemmings, who knew you had a heart!
His accent somehow gave the the simple words so much more, and I let the smooth, gentle pulse of his muse like voice surround me.
"I need your love to guide me back home,
when I'm with you, I'm never alone,
I need to feel you feel you tonight,
I need to tell you that it's alright."
Stopping, Luke sighed before warily looking up at me. I couldn't help it, my lips drew back in a surprised grin and I frantically, reached forward and slapped him in the leg, "Why'd you stop? Keep going!"
"That's it, Annie." He says, slowly, "That's all I've got."
Shaking my head, I lift the covers and start to look for his notebook, "You're lying, Luke, you better sing me the rest of that song!"
He smiles, "You liked it?"
I nod, "Yes, and I want to hear more." Crossing my arms, I pout, "I'm not leaving until I hear more."
He shakes his head again, like he doesn't believe me, and I lay back and snuggle underneath the covers, proving my point further, "I swear I won't move, until you sing me something else."
"No," he laughs, "Get out, Annie. That's all."
Gripping the covers, I yank them over my head, "No!"
He playfully groans, "Great, my first groupie."
"Oh you better believe it, Hemmings." I laugh, staring up into the dark.
The covers are pulled back and then Luke slides in and pulls them back over his head and stares at me, "Don't rock stars get to have sex with their groupies?"
I roll my eyes, "Goodnight, Luke."
He laughs and I throw the cover off of me, before clambering off of his bed and towards his door, "Oh, come on Annie, you can be my number one fan!"
"I hate you." I mumble, turning around, "No more guitar playing at 3 in the morning okay?"
Luke nods, "Whatever you say, Mom."
I shake my head, "On a serious note, I really did like your song."
He stares at me, blue eyes calm and light in the dim light of his room. Lips quirk into a shy smile, "Thanks?" I nod, not sure of what to say and then finally after a few minutes, he rolls his eyes, "You can get out now."
--
I was listening to Hozier while writing this. I love Hozier. Anyway, thanks for 400+ reads guys, I appreciate it.