hard love ✰ l.h. | ON HOLD

ten.

"Morning."

I peered up from my computer, only catching a glimpse of those familiar blonde waves before he headed to his desk. I picked up my phone and dialed his extension.

"Hemmings," he answered. His voice still hoarse from the morning.

"Can you come into my office?" I asked politely. His chair spun around to face me through my glass windows, phone still attached to his ear. His expression was flat, but his tone said otherwise.

"For what, Ms. Browning?"

"A project," I replied. His smile was slight, but enough to see from the distance away I was.

He swiveled around in his chair, a subtle "click" being heard over the line. I carefully placed my phone back on the hook as he stood from his chair. He approached my door, stopping in the doorway to lean on the frame with an arm above him.

I beckoned him in with a single finger, palm up, eyes soft. He quietly shut the door behind him and followed my gesture. He pulled a chair from behind him as sit directly next to me. Luke watched me intensely with pursed lips and narrowed eyes. His elbows rested on his knee, the pull his jacket flashing his gold watch.

"My plate is full," he deeply spoke. He reached out underneath the hem of my dress, causing goosebumps galore. "But I'm sure you'll make this a good one." His smirk was troublesome, as if he was a magician with a trick up his sleeve. I glanced down at the warm hand, like I was checking to see if the heat on my skin was real.

Growing up, my grandmother spoke to me over and over again about lust. How I was going to mature and be struck by the horrible, evil curse of lust. That I was to be pure, innocent, and for that men will love and respect me more. It never clicked in my head. Why couldn't girls just be respected regardless of how they love? Love is sought out and in itself is wild and reckless at times. And sex was the most natural thing in the world. Needless to say, I stopped listening to my grandmother when I turned 17. While I respected her values, I didn't share them with her anymore.

Lust didn't catch me often. Men didn't typically look my way and I wasn't into the dating scene. I spent most of those prime years with Michael, anyways. Luke just caught me off guard. I didn't expect to fall into a hole of tension and quick glances. On a date, locking lips, melting into grips and tensing under stubble against my neck. I liked him, truly. But, there was a still a wall to knock down from Michael.

We met a coffee shop nearly four years ago. Cliche, yes, I know. He was the emerald eyed barista and I was the bare faced customer. I recall being so insecure about the way I looked, but I still came in everyday for a week until I caught him again. The day we met again we brushed hands on the togo cup. He ran after me as I left and asked for my name.

"Hey!"

I slowly looked over my shoulder at the shout, nearly dropping the peppermint mocha from my hand. Christmas was right the corner, this being the first without my family being together.

"Hey." The boy breathed out.

"Um, hi," I shyly responded. I smiled politely at him, feeling intimated by his looks compared to mine.

He smoothed out his black apron and pushed his hair from his face. "My name's Michael. And I wanted to tell you I think you're absolutely stunning." He tripped over his words, the same way the thoughts in my mind was jumped from corner to corner.

"Thank you." My voice shook and I gripped harder onto my warm drink. I shivered under the November weather.

"What's your name?" Michael asked. He bit on his reddened lips. I assumed the weather nicked his skin as much as mine.

"Mabel."

"Mabel." He repeated, slowly. He smiled, "I like that." He looked over his shoulder at the glass entrance to the cafe. He cleared his throat as he turned back towards me after the silence. "I work Tuesday, Wednesday, and Friday next week. I'd like to see you again," he said.

I swallowed, unsure if my cheeks burned from the flattery or the crisp air settling on my skin. "Okay."

"Okay," Michael smiled wider while my eyes fell to the ground. "I'll see you around, Mabel."

I watched as he stepped backwards from me and nodded before eventually jogging back into the coffeeshop. I bit down on my bottom lip, focusing in on the sloppy handwriting on my coffee cup. I flinched as something gently fell in the bangs in my face. I stared up, watching the scene turn into a snow globe. The first snow fall of the year.

The snow stuck for two weeks. It hasn't snowed since that winter. An icy drizzle, but not the white flakes to sled on. Not the kind you could roll into a chilly friend with a carrot nose. The kind that freezes over the roads and causes traffic jams. I'm glad it hasn't snowed since then, for the flurries only remind of Michael.

I believed winter was coming early. I shivered during the September date with Luke, and again this morning as I stepped into the early October weather. When Luke and I had breakfast at the Picnic cafe, the sun and his hands kept me warm. I always made sure to bring a jacket, though.

Luke was speaking numbers. Expense reports. Percentages. The information I provided to him when he first began was rolling off his tongue with ease. He caught on quicker than the other interns. He absorbed information like a sponge. Noticed details as if he had a photographic memory.

As he pointed to the graphics on my desktop, this time actually helping me with something. I sipped slowly on my coffee as he explained a new program to me. I wasn't listening carefully, this time. I paid attention to the curl falling in his face and the way his lips curved with his words as he spoke. He made me curious about him. I had explored a lot of him and his mind and life, but not all.

I wanted more of him. To spend more Saturday mornings eating omelettes with him. More late nights and drunken karaoke. Another glimpse of the beautiful scenario from his high rise. More kisses from his sweet dog, and a hundred more from him.

Luke sweetly refilled my coffee at some point. I cringed at the steam as it hit my nose for the first time, the smell of the creamer nauseating me.

I still can't drink peppermint mochas.

-

A/N:

sorry for the long wait! my brain wasn't working

thank you guys for reading!!! love u