~Luke~

I sat at the table with my mates, watching in awe as Ava departed in a hurry for the washroom.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” I muttered under my breath. Calum shot me a serious look, as though he understood completely. Mikey and Ash, however, glanced at me confusedly, and I merely groaned.

“What?” Ashton questioned.

I almost didn’t want to answer—I was fuming at the fact that he’d been shamelessly flirting with my ex-girlfriend, and I didn’t even know why I was so wound up. It wasn’t up to me to protect her anymore, even though I knew that somewhere deep down, the feelings I once held for her were still there, clawing their way to the surface.

“She—,” I made a low growling sound, suddenly so pissed, “She fucking left me for no reason.”

“How?” Michael inquired, running a hand through his bright blue hair. I clenched my jaw,

“She got fired from that damn internship. She could’ve come back, she could’ve called, but she didn’t. She didn’t.”

“Luke,” Mikey sighed, and I simply stood abruptly, shaking my head. She could’ve come back to me, but she chose not to. Did I really mean that little to her?

“I’m going to the bathroom,” I stated clearly. All three of my mates looked at me warningly, but I shrugged it off—I knew what I was doing.

It only took a minute for me to locate the small hall that led off to the restrooms. I turned the corner, out of eyesight of my friends, and walked over to the door with the women’s sign on it, leaning against the wall beside the barrier. From inside, I could make out a few words.

“It just brings back so many memories,” I recognized the voice as Ava’s, and I leaned a bit closer to the door, my arms crossed, simply waiting. I had a feeling she was talking about her internship—I suppose the topic really upset her, she had been looking forward to it, after all.

An elderly woman turned the corner and began walking down the hall, but she stopped short once she saw me. Her gray hair was pulled back into a strict bun, and her lips pursed unapprovingly when she perceived where I stood, cautiously leaning towards the restroom.

She shook her head and simply spun on her heel, and as she walked away briskly, I heard her mutter something about ‘crazy kids’. I just rolled my eyes and shrugged—fuck her. I was trying to figure out the girl I loved, the girl who’d left me with a broken heart that still hadn’t been mended, the girl who’d been the inspiration for half of the songs our band had released.

I turned my attention back to the conversation Ava was participating in with the person over the phone.

“I don’t want that looming over me,” I heard. Was it simply my imagination, or was her voice shaking? My ears strained, but after that, all I could make out were breathy murmurs, no solid words.

I waited exactly forty-seven seconds until I heard footsteps approaching the door, followed by a small mumble. Was she talking to herself?

And then I stepped in front of the door as it swung open, my arms crossed, staring down at the beautiful girl who’d managed to capture my heart and still harboured it to this day. Her face was slightly flushed, but she did a good job of covering up whatever fledges of emotions she’d just experienced during her conversation.

Her breath hitched in her throat when she saw me, her head snapping up to meet my eyes. I knew I must’ve looked cold right now, and that’s what I was going for. “Luke,” she breathed, her innocent brown eyes widening, but for some reason, it looked like she felt guilty.

Yeah, obviously. She’d left me for no fucking reason.

“Hi,” I said curtly, and then I motioned with my head to the washroom, “Is anyone else in there?”

“N-No,” she stuttered quickly, shooting me a confused look, “Why—?”

Before she could finish her question, I was pushing her back into the room, following after her. She stumbled back, nearly tripping, but I grabbed her elbow to keep her steady. I pushed the door shut and—as an extra precaution—I spun around, locking it swiftly before turning to face her again.

Her eyes were the size of tennis balls, and she peered up at me with parted lips. I stared back at her evenly, wanting to kiss her so badly—she looked too innocent, too utterly perfect, and it wasn’t fair at all.

“Luke! What the hell?” she questioned, her voice escaping as no more than a squeak.

I walked towards her and with every step I took forward, she moved back. Soon, I had her trapped between the wall and I, gazing down at her. She looked to be about 5’8, average height, but I still towered over her.

“The internship didn’t work out, huh?” I murmured to her, lifting my right arm and planting my palm on the space beside her head.

She stared at me—almost in awe—with parted lips and glassy eyes, as though she were really looking at me for the first time in her life. I merely smirked down at her.

“No,” she choked out, swallowing.

“Mhm,” I merely hummed, and then I did something that surprised the both of us. I didn’t know where this sudden confidence had come from; all I knew is that I wish it made an appearance more often, because I was suddenly leaning down, placing my lips at her ear.

I could almost feel her entire body tense at her breath hitch, and I bit back a smug smirk.

She smelled like a rich, thick smell of lavender, a few sparse hairs falling from her bun and hanging down her face. As I bent down to her right ear, my left hand came up to tuck a particularly curly wisp of brown hair behind her ears.

As I lay my fingers on her skin, I could feel her body shaking.

“So,” I began quietly, “You left me then—for no reason.”

The side of my face was pressed against hers, so that way she could feel the slight itch of my stubble, she would see how much I’d grown up, and she would take me back. My lips tickled the fleshy part of her earlobe, and I heard her sucking in and dispelling light breaths as she fought to compose herself.

“Luke, I—,” she practically sighed.

“You left me,” I repeated sternly, and I pulled back, never failing to let my lips brush against her jaw, and a soft, whistling breath escaped her lips. I stared at her with hard eyes, suddenly fuming again, “For no fucking reason, Ava.”

She looked uneasy now, the sudden comfort of my actions disappearing. “I-I’m sorry,” she stuttered, not looking at my face, but rather staring at my chest.

I shook my head, “That won’t fix it.”

“I know,” she mumbled, and then she looked up at me.

“Why are you even talking to me?” she asked me suddenly, quite loudly, might I add. There was a moment of deafening silence, the words hanging in the air as I processed them, and neither of us said anything before she broke this sudden pact by opening her mouth again.

“You can’t do that,” she accused, her voice getting stronger, gaining more confidence, and her posture reflected it too. She straightened up from her cramped, vulnerable position against the wall, and her eyes themselves seemed to harden and gleam with determination.

“You can’t just ignore me out there,” she gestured fiercely with her chin to the washroom door, “And then suddenly become all confident once we’re alone. You’re giving me fucking whiplash, Luke.”

“Ava—,” my tone was warning. With each word she declared, my temper was rising, flaring, like a volcano ready to erupt.

“No!” she exclaimed exasperatedly, like she couldn’t believe that I was warning her, “Just shut up, Lucas. You’re making this so much more difficult than it has to be. Why won’t you just quit being so awkward and talk to me?”

By this time, she was leaning up, her eyes enraged. Our noses were only an inch away from touching, and her breathing was laboured from her short rant. I bit back another small smirk when a thought came to mind: she’d gotten feistier.

“It’s not that easy,” I simply said, willing myself to keep control and not lose all of the sudden confidence.

I opted for small, simple sentences, trying to hold back the urge to go crazy and explode in a giant outburst—I had a feeling I’d probably kiss her in the process, and even though I really wanted to, it most definitely wouldn’t help my case at the moment.

“Yes it is!” she protested, before she leaned back against the wall dejectedly, her sudden warmth and closeness disappearing. I almost leaned down just to feel the foreign feeling again.

She shook her head disapprovingly when she looked up at me, before sighing lightly, “It doesn’t take a lot of work.”

“Goddammit, yes it does!” my calm exterior shattered, and both of my hands lifted, only to slam back down on the tiled wall just inches from her head. She let out a small, terrified squeak, and I froze, suddenly aware of what I’d just done.

I stepped back, completely shocked at my own actions, my arms falling limply to my sides. Ava glared up at me with slightly watery eyes, her chin trembling lightly. My heart broke.

“Who the hell are you?” she hissed, before pushing past me, never failing to shove at my shoulder as she went. My lips parted, shocked at her words, shocked at my outburst, shocked at her spunkiness and her bravery to stand up to me.

I never thought I’d be the one to hurt her.

In my eight years of knowing her, I’d been trying to protect her from the bad guys, the people who wanted to make her feel worthless. I’d been trying to protect her from the memory of her father, the man that had always plagued her mind and made her feel as though she was never good enough.

I’d even tried to protect her from her own anxiety, herself, this feeling that she couldn’t shake—she had to do better, she had to be better, constantly giving it one hundred and ten percent and panicking when she fell short of her goals.

And now I was simply another person to add to this list, another somebody that would hurt her.

These thoughts flashed through my mind in under a second, finally snapping me out of my daze. I spun around quickly, watching—almost in slow motion—as Ava’s hand shot out, reaching for the door handle.

“Aves, I—”

“You don’t get to call me that, anymore,” she seethed, spinning around and giving me a venomous look. Even when she was mad at me, I couldn’t help but to notice every beautiful thing about her.

Her eyes were driven and fiery. Her posture was straight and confident, making me shrink back subconsciously. As she spoke, I couldn’t help but to watch the movements of her lips mesmerised at the utter perfection that was her mouth—perfectly shaped, the perfect colour, the perfect texture. I itched to run my hands through her thick, soft mane of waves and ringlets, the curlier side of her hair dominating the straighter side.

I wanted to feel her skin, the soft, smooth parts, but also the parts riddled with bumps and scratches, blemishes, those tiny imperfections that would only soothe me by assuring me that she was a real person.

She just shook her head when I didn’t say anything, rolling her eyes, her gutsiness making her more and more attractive by the second.

“You’re different, Luke,” she told me, delivering the words as though they were an insult. I took them as one.

“I can’t believe I wasted two years of my life missing you,” she muttered under her breath, before spinning on her heel and unlocking the bathroom door angrily, wrenching it open.

She’s leaving. She’s fucking leaving, Hemmings, do something!

But I was frozen to the spot, only watching her backside, observing the small curling hairs at the back of her neck, the dainty physique of her shoulders, the perfect sphere of her arse. I couldn’t bring myself to move.

I saw her shake her head faintly before she briskly exited, wanting to get as far away from me as possible. I didn’t blame her.

I wanted to get as far away from me as possible too.

Notes

Awww... :(

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