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a/n: We're currently ranked #6 in Fanfiction!!! Thank you a thousand times! Maybe someday we could get Two Worlds to #1? I love you for reading the book! And also, thank you for 300K reads and 11K votes! This is awesome! Enjoy your reading!

a/n: We're currently ranked #6 in Fanfiction!!! Thank you a thousand times! Maybe someday we could get Two Worlds to #1? I love you for reading the book! And also, thank you for 300K reads and 11K votes! This is awesome! Enjoy your reading!

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November 13th
*Luke's P.O.V*

"Lewi!" My father hugs me when I get to my old home. "How are you, son?"

"Tired" I admit with a smile. "I think I need to get some sleep. I've missed you, dad! Where's mum?"

"She's with Celeste and her mother, dealing with the last details. Just put your bag on your bedroom and let's have a beer, okay?"

I nod and drag myself upstairs, throwing my bag on the bed. Looking around nostalgia hits me, like it always happens. However, I'm not exactly in the mood for deep thoughts; in fact all I want to do now is drink with my father and that's it.

"Here" dad hands me a bottle after I got back to the kitchen. "Tell me, how's everything? How is tour?"

"It's very good. We are in the middle of our tour over Europe." I answer, taking a sip and sitting down on the couch.

"I'm glad to hear that. How are the boys? I know I'm seeing them tomorrow, but even so"

"They're okay, Calum got a new dog."

Father raises his eyebrows.

"Another?"

"Yeah," I grin "that makes three of them. I don't even know why he decided to get one in the middle of the tour, but nobody questions Calum."

Mum gets home a couple hours later and she won't stop talking about Jack's wedding.

"It's going to be marvelous, so many people! Celeste is very excited" She cheers. I smile, hugging her tight out of blue. "Sweetheart, what's wrong?"

"Nothing" I shrug. "It's just good to be home."

I go out for a walk through the neighborhood like I used to do when I was younger, earphones on.

The familiar streets bring safety and calmness to my storming heart; nothing like breathing this air.

Before I know it my feet have taken me to the old park, and my eyes catch sight of a specific tree. I stop for a moment as the memories come to mind. I remember her. I remember when she notched her name on the trunk and then handed the pointy rock to me. Even though I'm gradually thinking less about Laurel the butterflies are still around whenever I think of her, or when someone mentions her name. The good thing is that I spend most of my days with the same people, and they already know they must not talk about her; that makes the whole healing process a lot easier. I've been trying to listen to some songs that remind me of her so I can break down the walls I built myself.

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