August 5th, 2016 - Ravioli.

He sure was gorgeous.

After dinner, Liz insisted on cleaning up while Luke took his guitar outside to play for the rest of us. The crisp evening wind hummed as his slender fingers danced across the six bronze-plated strings. He sang so effortlessly, occasionally breaking the mood by changing the lyrics to make them funnier. His brothers jumped in without hesitation, completely oblivious to the smile tugging at my thin lips. It was hands down the worst performance I'd ever heard, but it still gave me a warm feeling in my stomach. 

As the stars started to come out, the others began to go in until only Luke and I remained. I sat in a lawn chair opposite him with my feet propped up on his knees, admiring the way he got lost in his own music. He seemed totally serene, as if he'd gone to a different world and forgotten I was still around, even when Liz came out to cover me with a blanket and wish me a good night.

"You keep staring," he whispered, palm muting the guitar and glancing up at me with his piercing blue eyes.

I didn't know how to respond. He was right; I had been staring. I'd been so caught up in my own thoughts that I didn't even notice how my gaze remained fixated directly on his figure.

Luke chuckled once, a soft sound that blended in perfectly with the incessant rustling of the trees around us. "You're cute. I like you," he said as he gently set his guitar off to the side. "Come here."

He patted the spot on the outdoor sofa, beckoning me to lay with him. My eyes shot to the sliding glass doors, double checking to see if any of his family was watching the two of us from inside. My hesitation must've been obvious because Luke groaned in annoyance.

"It's like midnight, they're all asleep. I'm fucking cold, Teni. Get your ass over here before I come get you myself."

I snorted and readjusted the blanket around my shoulders as I stood up. He extended his arms, immediately pulling me in once I was within his grasp. I melted into his touch and relished in how safe it felt to be held. 

We didn't speak for a solid twenty minutes. His heartbeat pounded in my ear and our breathing synced up as he gently stroked through my messy hair. Frantic moths and the peaceful sky were barely visible between my drooping eyelids. Delicate kisses were sporadically pressed to any available skin that Luke could reach.

"What do you think," he whispered, "of me, of Australia, of everything so far."

I thought for a moment, blinking hard as a wave of longing and desire washed over me. I swallowed in hopes it would take away the feeling that had so suddenly begun to suffocate me. "Jesus, it's amazing," I sputtered, aware of a single tear forming in my sleepy eyes. 

"Then why do you sound like you want to cry?"

"I haven't been held like this since my mom died," I breathed, ignoring my cracking voice and the waterworks threatening to spill over. "I haven't eaten dinner as a family in years, I have never just gathered as a group to joke around and sing and play guitar, I didn't even know what it was like to meet a boy's mom because I was always too afraid of the memories that might resurface. I've missed out on so much. I'm so jealous that you have a family."

He sat me up, grazing his fingers along mine. "I know what you need."

Before I could even comprehend the situation, I was being led inside by Luke's enormous hand. He instructed me to rest on the off-white couch in the living room before swiftly disappearing in the kitchen. I took a few deep breaths in an attempt to calm down while I was alone. The smell of dinner still lingered in the air and the warmth of the house engulfed me. Dim lighting strained my vision, but I recognized the smiling faces in every picture frame that I'd admired just hours before.

Luke took his sweet time.

The grand clock hanging on one wall made every second known. Five minutes passed, then ten, then fifteen. The racket he had previously made slowly but surely came to a deafening silence, leaving me with the ticking of the damned clock.

Then he moaned.

I stopped breathing, halfway between laughing and screaming. "Luke?" I called, shakily standing up and approaching the entrance to the kitchen. "What's going on?"

"Come in."

Wary with doubt and fatigue, I barely built up the courage to peek around the corner. Luke was sitting at the counter, digging in to a bowl of ravioli. Another bowl, which I assumed to be mine, was directly next to his, complete with a clean fork and a glass of iced water. He smiled when I appeared, motioning for me to eat with him.

"Seriously?" I asked, cringing slightly at the harshness in my tone. "I open up to you about my problems and you make me pasta?"

"It's ravioli, it makes everything better."

I rolled my eyes and reluctantly took the bowl, shooting him a playfully dirty look the entire time.

"Look," he says," I'm not very good at consoling people when they're sad. Usually I don't even try. But you, you matter so much to me and I didn't want to see you hurting like that so I did what I do when I hurt, I made ravioli. It's the best thing I knew how to do. And look, you're smiling, so clearly it worked."

He was right, I was smiling like a fool at my ravioli because, somehow, it was easily the sweetest thing anyone had done for me in a long while.

* * *

give me the formuoli

literally what the fuck am i??? what is this??? how did i use ravioli as comedic relief???

shout out to emma (OGhemmings) for this chapter idea, i hate you and you're dumb :)

im gonna try and update again but tell me how your week was!! i havent updated in a while and it feels really good to be writing again.

have a spoopy day/night