GOLDEN, luke hemmings

XVIII: OLD FACES

i feel like my writing is so overused and repetitive lol sorry i suck. also since this is an ava chapter i put my gorgeous and cute bean asami for the gif choice. she's one of my favourite face claims

chapter eighteen; old faces

Michael took a bite of his ham and cheese sandwich, chewing loudly and licking his fingers before he finished the distasteful scene with a long slurp from his blue raspberry slushie, retracing everything that Ava had said to him back over in his head.

"Woah, woah. He threw up after seeing her? That's...Yikes," He said with disbelief, cleaning his fingers with a napkin, brushing the crumbs off his lap.

Ava huffed. It was her lunch break and since their boss, Dewey, was too busy smoking pot in his office and jerking off to Natalie Portman as Queen Amidala in Star Wars to care about actual jobs, Michael decided that he would tag along as well. It felt like years since she had last seen her bleach blonde co-worker since everything in her life had felt so hectic. She confided in Michael with her problems, ranting endlessly about her feelings and the situation that happened beforehand precisely four days ago.

She had faith that Michael, seeing as they were somewhat friends and he seemed like a funny guy with similar interests, would help her in her crisis or, spare some advice. Michael did neither. She was more than glad that he had listened, because he truly was a good guy, he was just a little insensitive and, to put it nicely, dense on what other people wanted and/or felt. Why is it the attractive ones happen to be so clueless? Often, she wanted to smack the sense into him with hopes that, maybe that way, she'd knock all the hair dye out and salvage little of what was left of his common sense.

"Mikey, this isn't funny. I'm serious." She had been so frantic that she hadn't even taken one bite out of her usual lunch—a poppy seed bagel with cream cheese—and she scarcely took sips from her bottle of water.

He burped before apologizing. "Whew, sorry. Okay so what's the problem again?"

Ava rolled her eyes so far she thought they would fall out of their sockets. Letting out a sigh, she spoke slowly, as if Michael was a five year old (which, by maturity, he technically was). "I. Already. Told. You. Everything."

"I know, but I was distracted by the glorious delicacy in front of me," he defended, referring to his sandwich.

Ava groaned. She had already explained everything to him the second she got on her break and he followed like a stray cat. The events replayed in her mind like a movie she didn't want to see, The Tragic Story of Luke and Ava. Replaying it in her head was like seeing a heartache on the big screen and it made her feel even worse.

When her and Luke were approached by the Delilah girl (who knew Luke well, by the looks of it), Luke blanched. He was completely different. He was sweating like a pig and he looked like he was going to be sick, glancing over his shoulder as though he was searching for a way out. She remembered the pain that spread over his face and how he sounded like he was close to crying whenever he tried to speak.

"Yeah, Luke! It's me. I know I look different, but that's what exercising does. How are you?" Delilah stated casually, chuckling. She seemed shy and slightly awkward.

"Good, and you?" He responded hesitantly. He had a bad look on his face, like he had just heard something he wasn't supposed to. Something that broke his heart.

"Went to school. Studied nursing, I'm a waitress on the side," she answered shrugging, "It's been a while since I've seen you."

"Yeah. I never thought I would see you again," he gulped, shakily letting out a breath, "When, since when—have you always been in the city?"