14 - sweet

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Luke was pretty sure he'd made a big mistake.

As much as he would've liked to blame it on his rash decision from earlier, he couldn't. He would've loved to say the entire thing—from throwing himself in his car with a nonexistent reason and an attitude just to speed all the way to a closed café—was a mistake in itself. But, that would be a lie, a stupid lie, because Luke knew that wasn't the case.

His mistake didn't derive from nearly sneaking up on Elise, or asking her to go with him, or urging her into his car with an opened door. Even giving the girl his jacket—to wear this time—wasn't the mistake. These were not things he regretted, not in the slightest, even if he wanted to take the cheap way out and act like he did.

The issue was, Luke actually made two mistakes. The first; listening to the girl's suggestion on where to go.

By itself, there was nothing inherently wrong with where they were; a little nook of a diner just off the road, a place Luke had never been but one Elise had frequented often. The place was notorious for milkshakes, according to the girl, and, well, once she told him ice cream was what she wanted, he was simply in no position to deny her.

The problem arose with Luke's second mistake, well after they'd slid into their respective seats in the booth and the girl across from him had ordered her sweet treat.

There would have been no problem, if Luke wasn't Luke. Unfortunately, the boy would only ever be himself, and he chose to make the mistake of studying the girl's every distinguishable movement as he usually did—only this time, her movements were centered wholly around a straw, enveloped in a frothy, pink sweetness.

Luke kind of wanted to die as he watched her, eyes glued to her pursed lips and her hollowed cheeks, struggling visibly and obliviously to suck whatever she could out of a flimsy piece of plastic. He felt like he was being punished, a cruel reminder that his dirty thoughts simply had no place around this girl.

He knew that much, but he also knew himself. And it was taking everything in him—with his nails digging crescents into his palm—to keep his mouth shut and his dick down.

A part of him wanted to make a comment, something crude that would probably go right over the girl's head, but he knew better. He could be a fucking idiot at times, but he wasn't without a clue. Elise was unlike any girl he'd ever taken in his car, simply because any one of them would only be there for one reason, and it was not to suck on a milkshake straw.

He hated himself for being unable to look away, especially as she sat there engulfed in his jacket, and he hated himself for even having the slightest inkling of something dirty pop into his mind at such an innocent action, and with such an innocent girl.

Fucking pull it together. Scolding himself was much easier said than done, and he was simply grateful that the girl focused on getting her much too frozen treat through her straw wasn't paying nearly enough attention to notice the way he was staring at her.

"Having trouble?" He couldn't help but ask her, with a brow raised and a tense tone.

Much to his delight—and deep down, probably his disdain—Elise paused her efforts, lips coming off the straw with a faint pop that made him grit his teeth, especially with the way she looked right at him as she did it.

To her, he just looked kind of irritated, and she felt like it must be her fault. "Is it obvious?"

"Extremely."

She sent him a sheepish smile, having not quite realized just how hard she was working to get the ice cream actually in her mouth. "Sorry, it's just...really thick,"

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