the one where she's ticklish
October.
"Stop moving!"
"I'm not!"
"Yeah, you are! You had your arm up on your waist, now it's on your side."
"I got tired," Luke shrugged, placing his hand on the side of his torso again. After our little weird talk in my room, Luke randomly asked if I could draw another sketch of him and I happily accepted, taking the sketchbook and supplies that Michael gave me. Now, I was seated on the floor behind my couch, and Luke was standing near the little dining table, looking bored out of his mind.
"I want to watch Spongebob."
"No."
"Why not?"
"Because," I huffed, running a hand through my hair and looking up at a pouty Luke. "You asked me to draw you and I said yes, and it took me a long time to find these," I referred to the small box of pencils next to me. "And besides. I'm an artist. You're not supposed to move unless I tell you to. And plus, I don't have any Spongebob films like you do." He gasped.
"So, I'm like, your muse?"
"That's supposed to be towards a girl."
"Okay, okay," Luke changed his standing position, turning to his side and putting a hand on his hip, curving back uncomfortably with his lips puckered. "Look, white girl pose." He brought his hand to his mouth, pretending to be sipping on a straw. "I'm so happy I got this frappuccino. It's soo good, I can't even." Every single word with an 's' in it, he emphasized with a high pitched, voice.
"Luke!"
"Oh right, right, sorry." he stifled a laugh but didn't return to his normal position and I straightened out my legs in front of me, dropping the sketchbook onto my lap and hid my face in my hands. "This is hopeless." I groaned.
"Didn't you see the vine? Arm extension elbow up, pop that booty pucker up." he sang and I lifted my head, to find Luke doing exactly what the song said, holding up his phone. The click of a camera was heard, then he brough the phone down and started texting, a goofy smile on his face.
My phone vibrated next to me and I gave Luke a glare and he shrugged, nodding his head towards my phone on the floor. I picked it up and opened a picture message from none other than Luke, who was still smiling cheekily down at me. I opened it and burst out laughing. It was a picture of Luke that he took just a few seconds ago, along with the "white girl pose" he was talking about. Kissy lips, peace sign and everything.
"You're such a dork," I chuckled, saving the picture anyway and putting my phone down, picking up the sketchbook to fill in the missing lines with improvised work. "There, done."
I slid the book towards him before standing and he picked it up, his eyes widening and a huge grin formed on his lips, before he glanced at me, ran and picked me up, twirling me around before putting me down.
"You never fail to amaze me, October Winters." he gleamed, kissing my forehead. "How do you do that, anyway?"
I shrugged. "I dunno. I mean, I've seen you a bunch of times already. So, it's basically like connecting the dots." No, it wasn't like connecting the dots, Luke. You are imprinted in my mind, and with every single touch, you leave a trail of warm fire against my skin that I like to scrub off with a loofa because literally no one has ever made me feel like that before. And I love you so much it bothers me. Though I stayed silent, and he chuckled.
"You're a true talent." he whispered, standing in front of me and tilting his head down, so it would touch the top of my forehead. I felt his warm breath against the surface of my nose. "Don't you- don't you ever consider about flying back to Vancouver, to see your parents?"
My smile faded and I opened my eyes, pulling away from our close encounter. "It's not that easy." I muttered, looking down at my toes. "Besides, I don't even think they want to see me."
"Don't say that," he stated, stepping closer, placing his thumb on my chin to tilt my head up. "Of course they want to see you. I mean, they love you, October. When are you going to stop hiding?"
"After a long, long time." I was starting to get a bit annoyed. He knew how much I didn't want to talk about my parents and how uncomfortable it makes me. Why is he bringing it up now?
"You're grown up, October. You can finally show them what you wanted to do all this time. Don't you think that what happened before doesn't matter now? If you go back, they can see your true ambition, and your father will understand why you didn't want to go to Harvard. Why don't you want to go back? What're you so afraid-"
"It's because I'm ashamed, okay?" I fumed, pushing him away. "I'm afraid- I'm afraid of what they'll think of me now. I mean, it's not every day you find your daughter running away and not hearing from her for two years. Look, I know that they're probably worried, but don't you ever consider how I feel? Why I ran away in the first place?" I bellowed, my voice echoing slightly through the small apartment.
Luke cowered, pinching his lips together and tearing his gaze away from mine. I exhaled, swallowing and didn't realize the tears that brimmed my eyes until I felt the lump in my throat and the small pain in my ears. "I'm sorr-"
"I do consider how you feel." Luke whispered and huffed, interrupting me. "I see it. I see the weight on your shoulders how- how every night it burdens you and I can tell, even when I'm not next you, how much it hurts. I can see how much pain it's causing you, and even when you're laughing or when you tell me your fine you're actually not, because deep down, there's that hint of guilt, pulling on your veins and you're actually not fine. At all."
I kept quiet, silently telling him to go on. He did.
"And I know how much it pains for you to talk about this, but it hurts me- it hurts me so fucking much to see you this way, and I don't like it. Not one bit. But what aches the most is not being able to fall asleep next to you, or wake up with you in the morning, because instead you're in here, in your bed, dwelling with the problem over and over. God, it hurts. It hurts me that you're in pain. So. Fucking. Badly. And the fact that I can't do anything about it is the worst, but you can."
He clenched his fists at his side and released them just as quickly, before walking quickly over to me again, taking my face in both his hands and wiping away the tears that have fallen. "And call me selfish, but I want you to fix it, once and for all. Not for you only, not for your mum or dad, but for me. So I can wake up next to you every single fucking day, so when you're laughing I know you mean it, and when you tell me you're okay, I know it's true. Because I-"
He stopped, his voice getting caught in his throat, then he cleared it, shaking his head as if he was having an inner battle with himself. "I- I want what's best for you and me."
I closed my eyes and let out a shaky breath, placing my small hands over his big ones, which were still on the side of my face.
Fuck, I love him.
And I wanted to tell him that. I wanted to yell it out to the whole of New York City, loud enough for everyone to hear me.
"You are what's best for me," I mumbled, dropping my hands and wrapping them tightly around his neck, gripping the top of his shirt from the back. He quickly responded bringing his arms around my waist, one around my shoulder.
I wanted to stay like this. I don't ever want to let him go. Not ever.
He was the only thing that was keeping my feet on the ground, but at the same time, letting my head go up in the clouds.
I just hope that he'll hold on just as tightly as I did.
I love you, was the one thing I wanted to whisper into his ear, as we were like this. I love you, and I don't ever want to let you go.
But I couldn't. Because I didn't know whether he loved me.
I felt him grip the pit of my collarbone with his thumb, holding me tight and nuzzling his nose in my hair, behind my ear. I pulled away, making a sort of 'hiss' noise and bringing both my hands up to my chest in dinosaur hand position. He eyed me skeptically, his lips moving in a weird way, trying to conceal his wide grin.
"What?" I giggled. "It tickles."
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Hi cabbage
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