I pulled up to Luke's house, still slightly overwhelmed at the size of it. It's not that it was ridiculous mansion, but I had just been so familiar with my home that I seem to forget time to time that not everything in the world is similar to what I have. I knew that living in my own small home was quiet enough without my dad around and I could only imagine how it was for Luke to have this house to himself most of the time.

I parked right behind Luke's car, thankful that he was actually home. I glanced from side to side for any sign that he was outside and I got out of my car, hoping that he wouldn't think it was too weird that I had actually remembered the password to get through the gates and to his house. I shook it off as I walked up his porch steps and raised my hand to knock.

I stopped when I heard the faint sound of music coming from outside. I was surprised I hadn't noticed it when I first got here, the heavy guitars from what sounded like an early 90s rock band couldn't be ignored. I furrowed my eyebrows at turned to my left which is where the music was coming from. I hopped down the steps and made my way over to his garage, unsure of what he was doing or if it even was Luke.

I made my way over as the music got louder, suddenly being thankful for wearing a dress since it was ridiculously hot outside. I approached the garage door, poking my head in to find that it was Luke who was the cause of the commotion.

I raised an eyebrow at him, or rather his back since it was turned to me. He was hitting a punching bag, rather roughly, that hung from chains from the ceiling in some type of beat to the song that was playing. His back muscles were prominent every time he hit, the sound of his wrapped knuckles barely being heard against the leather.

I took a step inside his garage, leaning against the side of the door as I decided whether or not I should awkwardly walk in and say hi or wait for him to finish. Just then, the song had finished and so had Luke. His arms fell to his side and he took a step back, letting the sun peaking through the small window make him literally glisten. It wasn't until that moment where I had actually found a sweaty boy to be attractive.

His head fell as he shook a hand through his hair. I bit back my bottom lip to keep myself from laughing and scaring him, which I soon realized I was too late when he spun around and jumped from seeing me standing there.

"Jesus fucking Christ, Andy." He grumbled as he continued to unwrap the black tape off his hands. "You scared me." He said, looking up at me once then back to his hands.

"Sorry." I replied, letting my laugh slip through at the end.

"How'd you even get in?" He asked. I watched as he grabbed his shirt from the side, tugging it over his head and attempting to fix his fallen hair.

"I knew your gate code." I shrugged.

"Remind me to be careful about that. I don't want more girls sneaking up on me like that." He chuckled, nodding towards the door the inside of his house as he walked towards it to tell me to follow him.

"I technically didn't sneak up on you." I told him, crossing my arms over my chest as the cold AC blew into my face and cooled me down.

"Then you were stalking me." He weaved through his kitchen, avoiding counters and chairs as I trailed right behind him.

"Not stalking," I said, raising a finger.

"Then what exactly were you doing?" He looked over his shoulder, giving me a smug smile.

I laughed, "I came over because you wanted me to." I reminded him, grabbing onto the railing as he led me up the stairs.

"That was before you said you were busy with Ashton." He said, now walking backwards up the steps so he could talk to me face to face. His cheeks were still flushed and he stopped attempting to get his hair to fall out of his face.

"I mean, I can go," I said, getting the idea from his words that he didn't actually want me over. "If you want." I added, which got him to stop in his tracks, making me nearly bump into him.

"No, no, I didn't mean it like that." He chuckled. He rolled his eyes, "Jesus, Andy. I'm messing around with you ninety percent of the time." He told me, giving me an assuring smile. He seemed a lot more gentle and laid back today, it was nice to see this side of him.

"Leave me alone, I'm convinced the world hates me." I huffed, spilling to him about my own irrational fear that everyone of my friends actually thinks I'm pretty annoying and only hang around me because I tell lame jokes sometimes.

"I don't hate you." Luke softly said, turning back around as we reached the top of the stairs.

I stayed quiet as well as he did as he led the way to his room. He pushed the door open and held it as I walked inside, somewhat awkwardly standing by his dresser just examining his room.

His walls were bare and white, a few black smudges on them from what looked like some of his furniture banging up against the wall. I expected his room to be covered in posters of half naked girls and cool cars, maybe some early 2000s rock back that Luke enjoyed so much. But then again, I had no idea what a teenage boy's room was supposed to look like as I had never seen a boy in their natural habitat from the lack of siblings I had.

"This is probably weird," Luke spoke up as he walked near me. My hand had clung around my upper arm, rubbing over it to keep my hands busy so I hadn't felt out of place. "But I'm taking a shower because I probably wreak." He pulled out a drawer and collected a handful of clothes.

"You do." I agreed with him, even though he really didn't and was just trying to push his buttons. It had become my new favorite thing to do with him.

He raised an eyebrow at me, "Shut up, Emerson." He lightly shoved one of my shoulders which I instantly did right back.

"Just go take your shower." I laughed. He stepped back from me, his innocent smile changed to a smirk as I crossed my arms over my chest.

"Don't touch anything." He raised a finger at me then gestured to basically his whole room as if I didn't understand what he was trying to get at.

"I won't." I said, giving him a fake smile and nodding at him once.

He left the room, leaving me in a minute of silence before the faint sound of running water began. I sighed and glanced around his room again, it all seemed very empty from what I expected. Not that I had been thinking about what this kid's room looked like, but at the moment it was different than I thought.

His bed was neatly made and that drew me to sit on it. I crossed my leg on top of my other as I tugged the end of my dress down to cover my legs up more. I let them dangle off the edge of his bed as I pulled at the thread on his blanket to keep me occupied.

There wasn't much to Luke, or at least for the time that I known him. He had a good head of hair and a bubblegum smile, but that couldn't mask his intimidating stance and edgy personality. I described Luke in these ways since that seemed to be his outer shell, the outline of himself. He had moments were he was all too genuine and kind and it made me realize that I had to dig a lot deeper with this boy.

My stare on his dull carpeted floor broke when I heard the water shut off, reminding me that there was a naked boy the room over and that was what had made my cheeks burn. I snickered to myself which soon was interrupted by the sound of a blow drier. I narrowed my eyes at his bedroom door and shook my head, keeping in mind that Luke was in fact a "pretty boy".

I fell back onto his bed, stretching my legs out and crossing my ankles over each other. Luke had suddenly yet quietly walked through the door which nearly made me jump. I sat up on my elbows to face him as he finished tying the strings on his sweatpants and rolling the sleeves on his t-shirt.

"Luke Hemmings, seventeen, lady killer." He said, walking over to the bed and sitting down.

I sat up straight now, "What?" I laughed, confused by what he was going on about.

"Just go with it." He told me, giving me a sincere smile that matched his subtle laugh through the spaces of his words. I opened my mouth to question him, but he had told me to go with it so I did just that.

"Andy Emerson, seventeen, gentleman killer." I copied his words, getting a raised eyebrow from him. He brought his legs up and crossed them on the bed, now facing me as he sat Indian style.

"I don't think that's a real thing." He sighed, looking from my hands that were tied to each other then back up to my eyes.

"I just made it real thing then." I joked. He rolled his eyes and leaned back onto his hands that were placed right behind him.

"Luke Hemmings, seventeen, infamously known for getting a C in math for the past three years." He said, getting a giggle out of me. I turned towards him, tucking my legs to the side in a careful attempt to keep from exposing myself.

"Andy Emerson, seventeen, infamously known for getting an A in English for the past five years." I said back. He let out a short and obviously fake gasp.

"You bitch." He whispered. I desperately wanted to reach out and push him straight off the bed, but I had kept it to myself.

"Also infamous for using an inappropriate choice of words at the most inappropriate times." I added.

"Who? You or me?" He asked, biting down on his lip ring. I laughed at his question as it really had applied to both of us, hence why we met in ISS.

"Both of us." I replied. He sat back up straight again and this time let his elbows rest on his knees, his hands freely dangling and every so often letting his fingers hook onto each other. I stared at his fingers as he toyed with them, a silence settling around us.

"What's your favorite color?"

"What?" I asked again. "How old are we again?"

"I told you twice that I was seventeen. I also recall you saying you were seventeen, so we are in fact seventeen." He replied, earning another giggle from me.

"Okay, then." I cleared my throat, holding back my laughter. "I like pink."

"Pink?!" He nearly shouted, as if it was the most mind blowing fact in the world. I raised my eyebrows at him, nodding a few times. "Andy Emerson, I look at you and do not think that your favorite color could possibly be pink." He scoffed lightly, making me question why he had seemed so worked up about my favorite color.

"What color did you expect me to say?" I laughed, running a hand through my hair.

"Red." He deadpanned.

"Why red?" I asked, shaking my head a bit.

He shrugged, "I imagined you as a red type of girl." He explained even though it hadn't made much sense. I nodded anyways.

"What's your favorite color then?" I questioned back, hoping that he wouldn't give a ridiculous answer.

"I like blue." He answered. "Or black." He added.

"Black doesn't count." I told him, even though it was basically the only color he ever wore, which I was also guilty of.

"Fine, then I like blue." He puffed his cheeks for a quick second, blowing cool air my direction just a second after.

"What kind of blue?" I asked, my head tilting slightly to the side. He bit down on his bottom lip as he scooted closer to me to where his knees almost hit mine.

"The blue kind." He smirked, toying with the loose thread of his blanket just as I was a little while ago.

"You're so hard to crack, you know." I told him even though I'm sure he knew of this.

"I know." He replied. He stopped pulling at his blanket, letting his fingers hook together just as mine were. "I like the kind of blue that's the color of your eyes." He looked up from his hands to my eyes, making me feel like he was practically burning holes through me.

"We have the same eye color." I said. We were now staring blankly at each other, but something about how he would look between my two eyes made me feel like he was taking note on me.

"No, no," He shook his head. "Yours are darker than mine." He leaned in towards me and I pulled back just the smallest amount. I didn't like someone unexpectedly in my own personal space, but with what Luke was doing now I didn't seem to mind.

I slowly went back to were I was and let him somewhat strangely investigate my eyes. I kept glancing away as I felt like staring him down would build too much tension. But at the same time I fear things going wrong and try to avoid them, but I obviously can't do that.

"You also have a little yellow speck in your right eye." He said. I already knew this, Luke was just pointing it out and telling me the differences he saw. He sat back where he was with a soft expression. He seemed at peace right now and it was different to see him in a calm state. "You have cool eyes." He assured me, running a hand through his hair.

I smiled as I peered down to his black quilt I was sitting on, "Thanks." I replied. "You do too." I said back, looking back up at him. His eyes fell from mine and seemed to trail down my neck then down my arm then right to the floor.

"When's your birthday?" He questioned, struggling to break his stare from the ground.

"November 25th." I answered with ease.

"July 16th," He said. "I'm older than you." He grinned, nearly taunting me.

"By four months." I scoffed. I had realized that he was trying to get to know me a little better and doing a pretty cheesy job at doing it, but his effort what was made me appreciate it. Instead of slowly figuring out these little things about me, he simply asked them straight up and pushed past all of those things.

"Which means I have four months to plan a barely legal 18th birthday party for you." He told me, nudging my knee with his.

"With that said, you can't come." I watched as his lips pulled into a faint pout and I bit the inside of my lip just to keep myself from smiling. He laughed and I soon joined in, quickly figuring out that Luke was actually a caring and goofy guy rather than the disdainful kid that he showed the world.

-

A/N:

BOXER LUKE THO

idk i rly liked this chapter i thought they were cute ok i'm not trying to rush this plz tell me if i am but i also dont want to drag it on

ok yes i love them ok

i hope u like this fam :')