Rejects // Punk Luke Hemmings

>Chapter Twelve<

It turns out, the situation got worse. Way worse.

Luke guided me upstairs to one of the empty bedrooms. He opened the door and held it for me as I took a hesitant step inside. As I entered the door shut loudly behind me, the lock clicking. I whirled around, almost falling in my heels.

But Luke caught me before that could happen. His arms caught my waist, and his lips caught mine, pressing together softly at first, then more intensely.

I gasped, pulling back a fraction of an inch to look at him. His blue eyes were wild and beautiful as they peered into my own green ones. His cheeks were flushed, his fingers clutching at the fabric of my dress.

"One second please," I whispered, hating to break the moment. I leaned down and undid the clasps on my shoes, then set them aside. Without them, I was about three inches shorter, so Luke had to bend over even farther to kiss me, but he didn't seem to mind.

He took my face in his hands as I turned back to him, and kissed me gently, not like before though. This was sweet and tender, not hungry and impulsive. He took care with my mouth and my cheeks and my hair. He touched me lightly, not forcefully, as if asking if this were alright.

In return, I kissed him back, my fingertips running down his smooth cheeks. His lip ring pressed into my lips, but it felt perfect. His hands trailed down my sides and came to rest on my hips.

Hardly breaking the kiss, he whispered against my mouth to jump. I did, and he latched his arms around my waist as I did the same around his neck. My legs wrapped around his middle and clung on as he moved toward the dresser.

Placing me carefully on top of it, he now had to tilt his head back to kiss me. It felt odd to be taller than him.

His lips strayed from mine, traveling over my jaw and down my neck. His hand moved up my arm to the top of the sleeve. He slid it down slightly, exposing my shoulder as his lips reached the base of my throat. I leaned my head against the wall at my back and sighed, my fingers tangling in his hair as I tugged at it gently.

Then, his lips were at the skin beneath my ear instead of the base of my throat. I was wondering why he'd moved them so abruptly when he bit down lightly. I groaned quietly and I felt him smile against my skin, biting down a bit harder.

"L-Luke-" I gasped, my back arching off the wall. The pressure decreased as he sucked on the patch of skin, a grin on his mouth.

"Luke," I whispered. He gave my neck one final kiss before looking at me. The smirk on his face made my heart stop.

"Just wait until tomorrow to look at that one," he whispered back, making me flush deeply.

"Um, I don't want to go too far, you know-" I stopped as he nodded. "Why are you all of a sudden into me?" I murmured, looking down at his tattoos. They were beautiful.

"I've been into you, Kara," he lifted my chin with a finger. "Since that moment I saw you first, I knew you'd be perfect. And look how that's turned out," he placed his lips on mine again.

"But why? Why do you like me? I just don't get it." I said a little louder, my voice not in a whisper anymore.

Luke sighed, placing both hands on the edge of the dresser and leaning into them. His arms tensed from supporting his body weight and they rippled under his tattoos, making me blush. "Because. You're amazing. You are the most humble person I've met in my life. You are such a good artist, yet you hate people giving you compliments on your pieces.

"Also," he continued. "You are so sweet and kind. Even when you were yelling at me last week, I couldn't help but notice how you seemed uncomfortable while raising your voice. Thirdly, you are the most beautiful girl I've seen in my life. I catch a glimpse of you in the hallways and my stomach does flips, my heart exploding from how gorgeous you are." He brushed his fingers across my cheek, smiling softly. "What isn't there to love?" he whispered.

I inhaled slowly, my breath shaking slightly. The heat radiating off of his skin warmed my cold hands as he leaned in to kiss me again briefly. The scent of him enveloped me, drawing me in with a hint of cinnamon and something sweet.

"I'll take it slow," his lips quirked into a little smile against mine a he picked me up again, one hand under my thigh to hold me up and the other at the small of my back. He laid me on the bed, leaning on one elbow so he hovered over me. He placed himself so I could feel every curve of his stomach and chest, but I wasn't baring his weight. "Promise." His lips moved more against mine, the two pairs fitting together like a key in a lock.

I wasn't really aware of anything in particular after that point. Just general feelings and thoughts and events. His shirt was lost at some point in the process, and my hair had gotten unpinned, hanging in a curtain as I found myself on top of him. I remember the taste of his tongue against mine, the sound of his low growls as I tugged on his hair gently, the contours of his chest, his arms, his stomach, his back, all hard muscle and heat under my curious fingers. I remember the countless whispered words, passing from my lips to his, from his lips to mine.

I remember how perfectly we fit together, two pieces of a puzzle, two parts of a whole that had finally found one another in a world of similar figures and fakes. It was the best night of my life.

~~~~~~~~~~

Pounding. Was it music? No, it couldn't be. It was inside my skull, driving nails through my brain and making me wince in agony. I knew I wasn't hungover. I hadn't had anything to drink at all last night.

I then noticed I was lying in a bed, and wondered if I was still at Michael's house. So I painstakingly opened my eyes to find sunlight streaming through lace curtains. I yelped as it blinded me for a moment, covering my face with my arm. I was in my room somehow, though I don't remember driving home last night.

I lay there on my pristine white bed, sore as all hell, my muscles and joints stiff and hard to move as I attempted to get up. My efforts were in vain, as I collapsed back onto the pillow, a fresh wave of pain exploding behind my forehead.

I turned my head to look at the patterns cast by the curtains on the sheets and wondered what time it was. I reached for my phone which rested on my nightstand and pressed the home button. It was almost ten in the morning and I groaned.

After a minute or two, I tried to get up again, this time succeeding. I swung my legs over the side of the bed and stood carefully. I looked at myself an notice I was in an unfamiliar pair of sweats, as well as a blink-182 shirt that I didn't own. Who's clothes were these?

I pulled the shirt up to my nose, inhaling deeply. I smiled as I smelled Michael on the clothes. I vaguely remember that before things got too crazy last night I'd grabbed them to wear instead of my expensive dress. It serve me well, apparently.

I padded slowly over to my bathroom and didn't turn on the light. It would be too bright, and I had a small window anyway, so I could see just fine.

Not that I could have missed my appearance, though.

My hair was knotted, sticking up a bit on the side. My mouth was swollen from hours of kissing and lip biting. My cheeks were red with blood remaining from the events last night. My eyes were smudged with blue-grey, the color no longer carefully contained on my eyelids. But my neck was the most noticeable. Peppered with little marks, I ran my fingers over the hickeys, my mind flashing back to how I got each one. Some were tiny and barely there, but then there was the one near my ear. It was deep purple, in the shape of Luke's mouth.

I felt my mouth curve into a gentle smile at the thought of Luke. Last night had been like nothing I'd ever experienced. It was better than I could have imagined, even though we kept most of our clothes on. As a matter of fact, the only piece of clothing that came off was Luke's shirt, now that I thought about it.

But that didn't matter to me. The way he'd treated me, like I were the most valuable thing on the planet and he had the chance to take care of it. It made my heart sing as I left the bathroom and walked downstairs, praying mom was at work already.