Sorry for my absense! I had a lot going on. I hope I didn't lose any readers because of it!
Thank you for the 550k reads and all the votes and comments! This story was rated number 3 in Luke Fanfictions until it was rated R. So thank you so much! :)
200 VOTES. 70 COMMENTS.
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Hope's POV
As I wake up the next morning, I notice the sun is shining brighter than usual. It's going to be a good day, I can tell. The light peaking in through my window warms the wrinkled blankets around my body. I snuggle them closer to my face, knowing I'll have to leave my bed sooner rather than later.
After talking--or yelling rather-- with Michael last night, I realized that Luke means more to me than I ever really thought. We haven't been through a huge fight or even anything really, but he has this affect on me that I can't shake; not that I'd ever want to shake it. It's just a little scary knowing that someone who was a complete stranger not too long ago means so much. The simple fear of letting someone get to know the real you does wonders.
I don't know what I'm going to do with Michael yet; obviously things need to be worked out between us because he's my best friend, but last night he broke a half of my heart that belongs to Luke. I know that no one knows what happened to him that night two years ago, but I didn't know that people knew a story that was such a lie. Such a monstrous lie.
Luke needs me, and I need Luke. Michael can let Casey mend his pain until I know how to deal with it. Flipping the fold of the covers from beneath my chin to the waistband of my pants, I sit up and pull my fingers through my knotted brown hair. I wipe the night oils that have collected on my forehead with my hands and take note at the mid-morning time: ten o'clock.
I grab my bathrobe from the back of my door and decide it's time for a shower. I shut the bathroom door behind me and start to take last night's clothes off. Throwing them into a pile near the door, I wait for the water to warm up. My feet are so cold that once they are hit with the hot water, they burn. I step back and wait for them to get used to the temperature.
I let the water run over my back, through my hair, down my legs. I stretch my back out, hearing it pop a few times, making me feel a little more loose. I've always been curious if books made up the fact that the hot shower water can take the knots from your back or if I'm just unlucky enough to have never have had that pleasure of relieving the stress from my days.
I step out after washing my hair and body completely, the water runs from my feet onto the rug beneath me. Wrapping the ties to my bathrobe in the front of me, I twist the towel around my soaking wet hair, letting it towel dry before I take the real blow dryer to it. The walk back to my room is quiet, meaning that my mom must be out doing something. I check my phone and see that neither Michael nor Luke have tried to talk to me. I can understand why Michael hasn't tried, we need to think things over. But some part of me is sad that Luke hasn't been calling me, convincing me to come back; the other half, the logical half, knows that he is doing it for my own good, that he thinks he's doing exactly what I asked: giving me space.
I quickly type a message, doing it quick will ensure that I'm not going to be a baby and back out. I tell him that I think we should meet up at my house, his house, anywhere, it doesn't matter. I've come to the conclusion on how I want to handle it all. It's against my better judgment, and I'll never forgive myself if the worst happens, but I think it's best for everyone.
He texts me back saying that we can go somewhere public, so when I suggest the cafe we went to on our first fake date, he agrees. I feel relieved yet nervous of how it's going to go. Part of me thinks I'm absolutely nuts for even suggesting what I want to do, but the other half knows that it's a good idea. I shake the nerves and doubt from my mind and start to do my hair.
Dropping the towel from my head, I flip it from side to side, which will make it easier to brush. I'd lie if I said I didn't mentally sing, I whip my hair back and forth, I whip my hair back and forth. I pull the brush down the mess until I can run my fingers through it with ease. I partially dry it, then try a new way to curl it without the heat. I pull it into a pony tail, minus the tie and twist until it's so tight that it folds into a bun on it's own. I wrap the hair tie around it and let it go while I pick out clothes.
I push past all the things that I've worn once too many or aren't appropriate for the occasion. Settling on a tan, button-up, sleeveless top with a black baby-doll collar, that I got from Forever 21 and black leggings to match, I look down to my countless pairs off shoes picking out my black flats. I don't want to be formal, but I don't want to look like a bum. I know it's only Luke, but I feel pressured about it all. When I'm a little dressy I feel more in control of situations.
I check my phone for the time and realize I've got about thirty minutes before I need to leave. I finish drying the bun made of my hair, making the curls more defined, put on a dash of makeup, and then go down stairs for a bite of breakfast. Popping down a bagel in the toaster, I pull the cream cheese from the refridgerator. When it pops back up, I spread the cream heavily over the warm top of the bread. A dab gets on my finger, and I don't hesitate to lick it off, it's my favorite flavor afterall. I pour a glass of milk and sit at the island in the kitchen. Scrolling through my twitter timeline, I find nothing interesting, just multiple pictures of Taylor Swift when she thought she won a Grammy. I don't know. I didn't watch the Grammy's and I don't follow up on T. Swift, but I like her music.
Finishing my bagel, I brush the crumbs into the trashcan and set my plate in the sink. I drink the last of my milk, and sit it next to the bright white plate. I check the clock one last time, only having fifteen minutes before I need to be there. I rush up the stairs and pull my hair from the bun, watching the curls fall around my face. I run my fingers across my scalp to let them fall to one side or the other. I brush through my bangs to tame them down a little, then lightly spray them into place. I grab my purse from my chair, shoving my phone inside before I leave for good.
Letting the garage door raise, I am surprised to see that my mom's car is still here. My dad's old car is parked right beside it; at least something of his is actually still around. I haven't seen him in awhile. I wish he didn't work the way that he does.
I leave my mom a text saying that I'll be back soon and took the car instead of using my penny board. I turn on the air conditioner and pull out slowly, making sure not to swipe the mirror on the side of the garage door. I nervously flip through the radio stations, not keeping it on the same channel for more than ten seconds.
As I get closer and closer to the cafe, my stomach twists and turns more and more. I shouldn't be nervous, I know that. I'm the reason all of this is happening the way it is. I could've stayed, could've been more understanding to him and his feelings, but I didn't. I did the one thing I do best, push away people that care about me.
All too soon, I arrive. I find a spot in the small parking lot, managing to stay a few spaces from Luke's car, which is already here. I take a deep breath and look myself over in the mirror once more before stepping out.
I push open the door and scan around for Luke, finding him at the same table we were at the first time. I quickly wonder whether he asked for it, or if he was placed here. I nod to the woman behind the counter and walk past the scattered and tattered tables until I approach Luke. He's tapping his fingers on the table, looking just as anxious as I feel. His head lifts and his eyes catch mine for a second before going back to the table. I feel a little let down, but when his head shoots back up and a smile takes over his face, I realize that he must not have realized it was me.
He stands from his seat, letting his long arms wrap around me in a secure hug. My arms find their familiar home around his waist. My nerves are gone, just like that. One touch, and I'm freed. His sweet smell clouds my thoughts, but leaves much too soon as he pulls away. I look at his face, genuinely happy, yet honestly scared. He's wearing a black and white flannel with dark jeans, and his normal all black Vans. I'm used to seeing him in completely skin tight pants and a band tee shirt, so his look today is basically making me want to jump his bones. And I'm not even ashamed.
I smile and sit down across from him, not knowing what to say. Luckily, Luke catches on. "Would you like a drink?" he asks, clearing his throat.
"Yes, please," I smile, silently thanking him. He sticks his hand in the air and motions for a woman to come over.
"Hello, can I get you two something to drink?" she smiles, flipping to a new page in her booklet.
"Yes, can we please get two caramel frappuccinos?" Luke asks, remembering my order from last time, which feels like ages ago. It's the simple things that make a girl fall for a boy, and my boy is full of them.
The woman nods her head and offers a banana nut muffin that's half off with any order of a frappuccino. We take her up on the deal and wait patiently until she leaves to begin talking.
"Luke, I'm so sorry for acting the way I did," I start.
"It's okay, I understand why you did." His heart is much to kind for my own good.
"It's not okay, I should've stayed. I should've asked how you were, shoud've been awing at the vulnerability you showed, the bitterness you went through, loving you for trusting me," I say, working myself up. "Instead, I left," I say quietly, ashamed.
"Hope, don't put yourself down. I mean, it kind of broke my heart that you left," he says, I look away from his gaze. "Hey," he says, lifting my chin so I can look at him, "you're here now. We both had thinking to do, steam to blow off, but we're going to talk about it all, okay?" he smiles. His smile does wonders for me. It's crazy that he can affect my whole mood like this. I nod and he tenderly brushes his thumb across my cheek. I turn my head and plant a soft kiss to his palm.
"It would take a lot more to make me stop feeling this way about you," I tell him. He smiles and leans across the table. His lips brush over my nose and land on my forehead. I find myself grinning like a love sick fool, completely content with it.
Our drinks and muffins come out minutes later, nearly twice the size of a normal one. The top is a perfect crisp brown, sprinkled with sugar and nuts, while the bottom is light and fluffy. The bright red straw in my cup is messy with caramel syrup that they drizzle over the whip cream. Picking up my spoon from the wrapped silverware to my left, I scoop off the whip cream and eat it first.
"What are you doing..?" Luke asks, a smirk playing on the corners of his lips.
"What?" I ask back. "You've never eaten it first?" I ask skeptically.
"I can honestly say that I have not," he tries to contain a straight face.
"Well, I can honestly say that you're missing out. How do you even get it through your straw anyways?" I say, shoving another spoonful into my mouth.
"You don't. It melts into the drink and makes it sweeter."
"Seriously?"
"Yeah, maybe you should try not shoveling it into your mouth for once," he chuckles. "Oh my, you've got it on your face," he says, reaching over and dabbing it off with his thumb.
"Better?" I ask when he's done.
"I mean, as good as it's gonna get.." he cocks his head back, playfully insulting me. I pull a piece of my muffin free and toss it at his shirt.
"Hey! Play nice!" he laughs harder this time.
"I never play nice, remember?" I smirk, thinking back to our almost kiss at the fair.
"Fair enough," he says, throwing a little piece back at me. I would redeem myself, but I'd rather not get kicked out for starting a food fight.
"You win, you win," tell him.
"Thought so," he smiles like he won a prize. What a loser.
We finish our muffins, well as much as we could and take our drinks out with us. Leaving the quaint little shop, we headed in the direction of the small stores along the road, knowing that if we walked far enough, we'd end up on the pier.
I take his hand in mine after tossing my empty cup into the trashcan on the street.
"Holy shit, you're hands are cold," Luke jumps at my touch.
"I was just holding a frozen drink," I joke. He smiles and shakes his head.
"So," he says, lingering after a silent minute.
"So.." I hate this. Not knowing what to say, how to say it even if I did.
"How do you feel about it all, about me?" he says slowly, looking down to meet my eyes. I collect my thoughts, planning each word carefully.
"I don't feel any different about you," I tell him, and he smiles. "But," I begin, his smile falling, "it's weird that you could have a kid."
"I know, but I've been thinking about some things. I'm worried what my mom will think about it now, but I wanted to talk to you first," he says. I feel slightly nervous about what he has to say. Last time he was worried about telling someone something, it resulted in me finding out he has a child.
"Don't be worried, I'm sure the worst is in the past," I tell him. I look up at him, but focus my eyes on the ground. From my peripheral vision, I see a gazebo on corner of the block. I pull him down the pavement, across the lush green grass, and into the wooden, rustic form. "Look how cute it is! How have I never seen it before!?" I gush over how cute it is.
Luke's POV
I watch as Hope jumps onto the old wood. "I'm the princess, and I demand that you bow to me, peasant," she says, trying her best not to laugh.
"Your majesty, these are my new jeans.."
"Peasants don't wear new jeans, you should be banned from my kingdom for lying," she jokingly scolds me. Her playfull side is so adorable, I love it.
"But," I say, walking over to her, "what if I'm your Prince Charming in hiding?" I watch as her expression falters for a moment, her eyes pouring into mine. I put my hands on either side of her legs and take in her sweet appearance as her arms rest on my shoulders from above me. Her forehead rests on mine, her eyes never straying.
"I guess we'll just have to fall in love and live happily ever after, right?" her voice is soft, loving.
"And what kind of man would I be to say no to his princess?" I inch closer to her face. Her hands grab onto the back of my hair and bring me closer. I can feel her breath fanning across my lips, I need her contact, now. I wrap my arms around her legs, her butt just above them and push her on to me.
Our lips meet.
Nothing could be more perfect than the feeling of her lips on mine.
Her feelings belong to me as mine do to her.
She's still mine, and I'm still hers.
"Hope, I think I might love you.."
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ah booo for not finishing it.
Once again, I'm sorry for being gone for two weeks. thank you for understanding and sending your prayers to us. I love you all so much.
BY THE WAY! HOPE'S IDEA ISN'T JUST THE TESTING. SHE'S GOT A LITTLE MAGIC UP HER SLEEVE.
#BroCodeFF on twitter for exclusives! or fangirl to me!
-Madeline. :)