thin white lines | l. hemmings

42

For how tired they thought they were, Luke and Delaney stayed awake much later than expected. The conversation began with talk about getting their first legal drink together, then they ventured onto all the other things they wanted to do together.

Some for the first time, like getting a dog. Neither of them had ever owned one for themselves. Others just things that they decided would be so much better together, like ice-skating and thrift shopping, just the two of them spending time together. Doing something they love. 

By the end of the conversation, she could swear she was sober, even though she wasn't.

"Are you surprised by Calum and Quinn?" She asked him as her eyes began to involuntarily fall shut.

"Kinda. I know Calum as the guy to make out with his girl friends from time to time. Never knew Quinn to be like that, though."

"Yeah, but do you think anything more will happen? Or do you think that it was just a one-time thing?"

He paused his hand in the middle of combing through her hair. "Maybe. I don't know, but I guess we'll find out soon enough."

"I think they might be cute. If they do decide that's what they wanna do."

"I might think so too," Luke agreed, nodding his head against her.

"Might?"

"Yeah. I don't know. Calum is important to me, and I don't like the idea of any of them going out with someone we aren't sure of. I know Quinn, at least." He shrugged.

"It's sweet that you care about who he goes out with," she said, the faintest smirk on her face.

She didn't say anything, because she knew it wasn't his favourite trait, but she admired his heart so much. He cared so deeply about everything, even if he'd never admit it.

She drifted off with his arm holding her comfortably to his chest, the steady sound of his heartbeat sending her right to a peaceful sleep. He followed not long after, but his sleep was quickly interrupted.

The room was entirely dark when he woke up.

Right away, he felt the presence of someone other than Delaney in the room with them. Someone watched them as they laid together, and Luke hugged her tighter against his body, pulling the sheets over her chin.

He squinted hard, peering into the darkness in search of anyone else.

Just as he convinced himself he was being paranoid, he flicked on the lights.

Not Luke. Luke didn't lift a single finger from Delaney in his suspicious state. The watching man flicked on the lights, revealing himself to Luke. Him and the fucking neon bandana tied around his face.

He wanted to yell. He wanted to shout and scream and maybe even hit something. He was pissed off by the man who they had come onto the boat to avoid.

This was supposed to be a way to keep her safe. But here he was, the only thing between Delaney and the person who had been threatening her life.

"Please don't touch her," he begged before processing any of it, his was voice quiet as to not wake her. The man scoffed.

He stood tall over the laying couple, taking short steps along Luke's side of the bed. His short gun swung with his arms as he walked. The sight of the weapon didn't faze Luke in the slightest, he would've known it was there without seeing it. But he did.

"Even though you were promised we would, I'm not here right now to hurt her." He shook his head. Luke didn't believe it for a second. "I came here so you and I could have a little chat. What do ya say?" He asked, ever so casually. Like he found Luke to speak of a Sunday brunch, perhaps.