𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐑𝐄, 𝐋𝐔𝐊𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐌𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 ✓

3

Luke Hemmings

Deciding not to be such a dick to Atlas, I started off with simple exercises. We were in the gym, which belonged to the campus and I was sitting on the bench where I was lifting weights. Atlas was stretching her legs out, which looked quite painful to me. To be fair, I never fucking danced ballet or any type of dance. I was just an illegal street racer, lacrosse player and normal student.

"Try to lift those weights." I told her, wiping the sweat of my forehead, with my shirt. I watched Atlas, how her eyes traveled from my face down to the exposed skin of mine, which had a couple bruises and a few tattoo. It looked like she was dancing, when she walked — as cheesy as this might sound: but every damn time she was in her own little world of hers, with her headphones plugged in her phone, to her ears and when she was walking through the campus she looked like a fucking fairy.

"Luke, how much is that?" her cheeks were dark red and I now saw, that she couldn't leave the weights at all. I couldn't help but stifle a small chuckle and got behind her.

"We have a lot to work on, princess." I grinned, making her look down, as she grabbed the bar harder. I grabbed the bar and looked at Atlas.

"Lift it, I help you." I demand and she looked her eyes. In this position she looked so fucking pure — she might as well was pure. Still she caught every guy's attention in this room. I could tell she didn't liked it, at all. She squirmed, when I pulled her in, which made me think. Not to mention, that I was basically here everyday, but never came with someone in my company. I wondered how a normal day in Atlas' life looks like. To be honest, I consider to think that it would as boring as it is with me now.

Lifting the weight, I mostly did the work, but there was no way in hell, I would tell her that. Maybe not to bruise her ego, if she actually had one, but maybe just because I didn't wanted her to know.

"Luke, I fucking can't lift it!" she cursed, making me look down and put the weight back on the bar.

"How about we do something easier?" I chuckled, loving how red she was. It was probably embarrassment — it could be anything.

Later that day, I walked with Michael to my politics class. The now blue haired, don't stop talking boy next to me was annoyingly entertaining. He talked non stop about his partner Coach gave her.

"Jess is so hot, dude. And she's actually so smart." were his words, it was just like I put Michael Clifford's cassette on loop. To my luck, Calum joined us, smiling and waving at us.

"How was morning practice?" his voice was ironically deep, to the whole golden retriever image. Michael started talking without a stop about how cool and hot Jessica is, until I stopped listening. She caught my eyes, sitting there in the front row and currently rummaging through her stuff. I clenched my jaw and sighed. Any normal person would actually sit next to her, but I wasn't normal — at all. When have I been normal? I can't even look out for myself, which got slightly annoying. For example my once black tight jeans are now in a washed out black, which somehow really looked cool, but I needed a new pair of jeans. The shirts I wore were mainly plain white or pitch black — if it got too cold, I wore the Lacrosse hoodie, with my number on it. It was a dark grey one, with my number, the college logo and my last name. Hemmings, 13, University of Melbourne. Let's not start with my hair, which grew slightly over my back. It got annoying, when I exercised and it always came in the way, so I had my hair in a bun, like now.

"Mate, you're so zoned out and your jaw looks like it's going to snap." Calum snickered, readjusting his glasses on the bridge of his nose.

"I'm not zoned out." I argued, looking at my empty exercise book, where I could see the old writings of my math class. As I said, I'm actually not that stupid than I look. People always think, that I'm fucking dull, but at the end of the day, I'm just a normal dude, who tries to make his parents proud... at least I wanted to do that — right before I was caught up in illegal street races. I remember my parents finding out and that was the day they really stopped calling me their son, which was fucking fine by me. My brother's and I used to be in really good terms, but after I moved to college, the contact got lost in between the wires and I rarely talked to them anymore.

"Fuck it." grabbing the book and my bag, before I walked in the front, to sit right next to Atlas. Apparently she hasn't seen me coming, at all. I could tell by her sudden panic, until she looked me in the eye and calmed down, her tensed body relaxed, which made me question a lot right now.

"Aren't you sitting with Calum and Michael?" her voice was hoarse. It was a wonder, how she could remember their names, since Atlas is the biggest outcast, I've ever seen in my whole life. Not in a bad way, though. I just thought she liked being in that small shell of hers, which included ballet, homework and being simply daddy's number one princess.

"I have practice today, but we can exercise after that." I told her, ignoring her question.

"Luke, your practice is 'til 5PM, that's really late." she frowns, making me grin.

"Seems like you're stuck with me for a whole ass day, princess." with that I turned to my book, as the professor walked in and called every student from her list, to check us up. I watched Atlas from the corner of my eyes — her dark brown curls were open, falling to the back of her neck. I seriously wondered, how it would feel like. Is her hair soft, like it looks like? Does it smell good? I mean, not to sound like a fucking creep, she looks like she has everything perfectly organized. Even with her daily routines.

"Don't worry, it won't be that bad." sensing her shock, I tried to calm her down.

"I don't know, if I will be able to stay. My dad wants to see me as well." her voice was actually so quiet and if I wouldn't be that close to her, I probably wouldn't even hear it. "Should I drive you home, after practice?" I frowned, playing with the clicker of my pen.

"If you don't mind." her rosy cheeks made me bite back a huge ass grin. To be honest, I don't even know, why she's doing everything she's told. Atlas could easily do her own thing, but she obeys to anything, which adds a whole fucking lot to my fantasy. More than I intended to think about. More as in ripping clothes from our bodies and being intense.

"Nope, I don't, princess." ending up smirking like the biggest idiot on this campus, I turned onto my book. Atlas is a pure soul and I couldn't destroy her — because when I blow off... I might kill her.