Good Intentions ⇼ Luke Hemmings

"Lucas Hemmings!" I yelled as soon as I walked into our flat.
"Romina Baker!" He mocked.
"What have you done?!" My hands found their place on my hips as I stared at the mess in the kitchen. Luke merely stared at me with wide eyes and a grin, flour staining his black shirt. There were dirty bowls and pans sprawled across the counters--eggs, flour, milk, and chocolate chips staining the top, floor, stove, dishes, and--of course--Luke.
"Well I tried to make cookies," He simply reasoned, moving aside in attempt to show me that they were in the oven. "I used flour, eggs, milk, and chocolate chips. I think they'll turn out great."
"What about salt, sugar, vanilla, butter, shortening? Luke you can't make cookies with just flour, eggs, and milk." His face fell, peering around the kitchen at the mess he's made.

"I didn't think you'd be home so early." He confessed. "I wanted to surprise you." Defeated, he turned the oven off and pulled the failed batch of cookies out, setting the sad excuse on top of the stove. "I'll clean it up, Romy. Just go relax or something." He pressed his cane to the floor as he used it for support to walk, and my heart felt like withering.
"Hey." My voice softened, my hand finding his arm. "It's okay. I'll clean up and make cookies the proper way. You go shower, okay?" I gave him a soft smile as I watched his eyes light back up.

I hardly had enough time to put the cookies in the oven, when Luke came out of the shower and rolled himself into the kitchen as I was cleaning.
“Hey.” He rasped. His cane was lying across his lap, his hair was dripping messily across his forehead, and he hadn’t shaved. He was dressed in only a pair of sweatpants, and he looked so simple, he was beautiful.
“Hey.” I repeated, stopping myself from wiping the counter. I couldn’t stop myself from staring at him. His smile quickly turned into a frown as his hand hovered over his face.
“What?” He asked, “Do I have something-”
“No.” I cut him off. “Sorry.” I blushed, continuing to wipe.

“Why were you staring?” He questioned further, setting his cane aside as he crossed his arms.
“I wasn’t.” I denied, avoiding the harsh gaze of him.
“You were.” He rolled himself to the couch, transferring to the soft comfort.
“Okay.” I laughed. “You caught me. I might’ve been staring at you.”
“C’mere.” Luke motioned for me to come to him. After setting the rag down, I slowly met him, allowing him to pull my hand down so I straddled his lap.

The feeling was odd, as it’s probably been ages since I last sat like this, but I couldn’t help but lean into his touch and accept the fact that I’d regret it later.
“You have to be honest with me.” He mumbled, “Were you staring at me because of how hot I am?” I couldn’t help but laugh.
“It’s the beard, it just does something to me.” I joked, setting my hands on either side of his face. “It just makes you look so old and…” I let my voice trail off.
“And?” He cocked an eyebrow, smirking.

“Beautiful.” I finished, staring into the sea that I once knew so well. I couldn’t think back to a time where I’d been so thoroughly navigated, and now—gazing into his eyes—I am completely lost in the open ocean. I felt short of breath, the feeling I used to get when I was on the verge of a panic attack. But this was different. This was the feeling you get when you’re about to kiss someone for the first time—the kind of kiss you’re nervous about because it’s all that’s occupied your mind for who-knows-how-long.

Only this wasn’t the first time I’d ever kissed Luke. And, by the courses we take, it wouldn’t be the last. So, I mustered all my courage and pressed my lips against his before he could say anything. Luke happily responded to my kiss, grabbing my hips and attempting to pull me closer despite the fact that we were already so close you could confuse us as one. The metal on his lip ring was the kind of cold you’d forgotten you’d gotten used to and—bam—it shows up again next winter and you’d wonder how you ever survived. It felt comforting, the way it pressed so hard into my skin I knew the kiss was deep and purposeful. Our tongues slid into each others mouths as I held his face tighter and he gripped my hair with one hand, my hip with the other. Our breathing was heavy as we pulled away from each other in complete shock.

“Shit,” He whispered, biting his lip.
“Sorry.”
“Don’t be.” He muttered, connecting our lips once more, the comforting feeling washing back over me—the normality, the safety. Once again, Luke tried to pull me closer, as if he hadn’t realized his broad chest was in the way. I bucked my hips closer to him, hoping that would bring us closer. And before Luke’s hand could move away from my hair, the oven began to beep.
“I have to get that.” I mumbled against his lips.
“Let it burn.”

Notes

I'm sorry it's so short and that I haven't updated in forever.
I've just been working so much.
I hope you enjoyed.
Let me know what you thought.