aisle five » hemmings a.u.

forty-three

CATHERINE TALK TO ME THERE ISNT ANY SPARKLE OKAY GOD DANG IT

also thank u rachel's friends for giving me what to write bc I'm stuck haha

okay now that that's taken care of. aisle five hit 3m yesterday I think and I just want to say a huge thank you to all my homies and even if you're not my homie you're my homie so okay homie

just thank you!!!!!!!!

this chapter is rly messy and gross and it probably smells bad too so I'm sorry ))):

em's faceclaim is pauline hoarau btw

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The next day he nursed her while she had a bad pukey hangover and he even made her soup.

He rubbed her back, too, because he was whipped and would do whatever she wanted, even though she didn't actually ask for that (he offered because he felt bad about last night). So that's how Emma ended up laying on her stomach with her phone in her hands and Luke sitting criss-cross next to her, tracing circles on her tanned back.

She was trying to make space on her phone because she had about a thousand pictures and apparently her iPhone didn't like that, always pestering her to delete. So she was going through pictures, occasionally giggling at some.

As she swiped her finger from a picture of a random dog to the next, her smile dropped, and she felt a tugging at her heart strings. It was a picture of her when she was around eleven and her whole family was there. Eric had his arm draped around Nicole and her mum and dad were holding hands with Em up on his shoulders. Tears formed in her eyes and she tried to blink them away before Luke could notice but he stopped the motions on her back and leaned close to her face. "What's wrong, baby?" he asked quietly and she frowned, showing him the picture.

"I miss my dad and brother," she whispered, looking at the smiling faces on her passed family. "My brother used to always sneak me cookies and milk in my room, when our parents were asleep, and I just remember him telling me stories like how his first day of secondary school went or, like, why I shouldn't be scared to ride my two wheeled bicycle." She paused to smile a bit, not exactly crying but more reminiscing.

Luke helped her up (she insisted the headache was barely there and the nausea was gone, but he didn't care) and pulled her literally onto his lap with his back to the headboard. "Tell me stories about your family," he said quietly, his hand on her thigh and his fingers stroking the smooth skin.

Emma grinned, resting her head on his shoulder (it was a weird yet comfortable position) while sighing in remembrance. "I remember one time my dad woke us all up by, like, waving bacon in front of our faces and he accidentally burned Nicole," she giggled, and Luke took her hand in his, holding it up and playing with her fingers. "Um, Eric and my dad fought a lot when he turned, like, fourteen. He was that age where he was always right and he was super moody until him and Dad had the talk about, like, puberty. All I remember is Eric coming out of the living room after that looking absolutely mortified and then being super nice to everyone."

Luke laughed. "Jack gave me the talk," he said before shuddering. "Probably the most awkward experience of my life." She giggled and took his hand into her lap to look at his long fingers while she spoke.

"One day when Eric was babysitting Nicole and me, he drove us all to the local McDonald's and got us food, and when we got home he got in so much trouble because he forgot that Mum's friend worked there and she told her," Emma said, snorting. "I think when I was around . . . six or seven? I don't know, but sometime around that age, one of my best friends was over and we got some scissors and did our own hair. I kind of looked like a mushroom for a couple of months. But anyways, Dad came in and instead of yelling at me he just started laughing and taking pictures because I looked so stupid." She started laughing and so did Luke because it was contagious.

"How did they die?"

Her laughter slowed down a bit and she got quiet before moving her hands to the hem of Luke's shirt, playing with the fabric. "Eric died in a car crash when he was hit head on by a, um, truck and he was in a coma for about two months before his heart gave out on him. And my dad died from some sort of lung cancer, I don't know, I didn't care to figure out the details because I was do heart broken, you know?" she shook her head. "But anyways. I think it was better for him to die because he was always coughing and I don't think he was very happy anymore by the time he got the lung cancer. He didn't even stop smoking when he found out."

"I'm sorry, Em," Luke mumbled and buried his face into her neck. "My dad left Mum and my brothers and me when I was, like, five so I can vaguely remember him being a total douchebag to my mum and I think he hit Jack a lot because he's the oldest." Emma ran her fingers through Luke's hair while he spoke. "He hit me one time when I spilled milk on his chair and, yeah."

They sat in silence for a while, just kind of holding each other. Em kept playing with his hair while he kept touching her thigh and it was just the body language that spoke wonders, as if somehow they understood by the tiny little actions that they'd always be there for one another.

Like when Emma had just thrown up last night's mistake (she drank a lot), he'd held her hair back and after she brushed her teeth, carried her back to bed. Of course she could walk fine, but he wanted to. Or the time that Luke panicked that she would leave him again after the party because, well, he didn't even know. He was just paranoid of ever losing her, but Emma (even drunk) could see what he was stressing about and cuddled with him closely, whispering I love yous into his chest and tangling their fingers together.

Luke sat up, gently pushing her off of him and bolting to the kitchen. She jumped off the bed and rushed after him, their bare feet padding against the tile floor. He pointed to the barstool and Em sat down, watching him pull out two cups and then milk and chocolate syrup.

"Chocolate milk?" she giggled.

He nodded, filling the glasses with milk and then squeezing the syrup in, before taking a spoon and mixing it. "Here you are, m'lady," he chuckled before sliding it over to her, and she sipped it. Luke drank his own chocolate milk. "I think we should make out."

"I don't think so. Milk leaves a bad after taste and you know kissing with bad breath isn't very pleasant-"

Luke laughed. "Then let's brush our teeth," he said and Emma snorted, finishing her chocolate milk, putting the cup in the sink and then starting for the bathroom announcing that she had to pee. "Brush your teeth!"

And she did. She used the toilet and then brushed her teeth, leaving the bathroom only for Luke to jump up and rush in. Em rolled her eyes and walked into the living space and looking out the window at the city in front of her. Her eyes spanned out towards the building across from her, which was a cute little bakery, and then next to it which was a dentist. Interesting.

Emma screamed when there was a pair of hands on her hips and she backed into his chest, making him laugh. "If you're gonna' scream for me at least say my name," Luke giggled, and she tried to jerk out of his grasp, and she succeeded. Until he pounced on her, sending them tumbling to the ground. He pinned her arms to the ground over her head, holding her wrists.

"Luke," she groaned and he raised an eyebrow. "Jesus, I can't breathe." Luke placed a knee on either side of her hip and nudged her nose with his.

Somehow she got enough energy and effort and caught him at a good moment, because she pushed him off and landed on top of him, laughing uncontrollably. "Damn," he muttered, looking up at his gorgeous girl. They laced their fingers together and he closed his eyes. Emma moved her face closer as she stopped laughing (closing her eyes as well) and brushed her lips with his, peeking an eye open. She loved seeing him so needy and desperate for the kiss.

For that reason, she let go of his hands and rolled off him, standing up and going into the bedroom. Luke whined and bent his knees with his feet flat on the floor, slamming his fists onto the ground. "I hate youuuu," he dragged out, standing up as well and jogging after her.