player ♚ lrh

22 - whipped

Elise woke up to a careful arm wrapped around her waist and an annoyingly stubborn smile on her lips.

It was funny, because the only other person she'd slept with—in the most literal form possible—was Cole, and it was nothing like these past two nights with Luke.

For one, the time with Cole was an accident spurred from a late night movie marathon, and it ended with a bruise on Cole's shin and an irritated Elise resorting to a measly sheet after the boy stole all of her blankets. She was not happy in the morning, and she let him know with a swift hit to the face with her pillow.

But there was nothing accidental about Luke's protective hold, nor was the way he pressed himself gently against her back. What got to Elise the most, though, was his lips hovering on the back of her neck—just begging to inch closer and graze the skin.

Truth be told, she was kind of wishing he would wake up and do just that. She certainly wouldn't mind.

Other than that, Elise didn't quite know what to do with herself. Everything about the past couple days made her unbelievably giddy, and maybe a little nervous. Not because she wasn't comfortable with Luke—she really was, especially when it seemed as if he went above and beyond just to make her feel that way. It was more about her own uncertainty, her inexperience, that left her unsure.

It wasn't like she knew what to do, or where to go from here, for she was no expert in romance and she'd certainly never come close to it with someone like Luke. He was intense, with the kind of mannerisms that made it hard to breathe, let alone respond.

In short, Luke knew what he was doing and she didn't. And sooner or later, she figured he'd get sick of that.

With a small sigh, Elise forced herself to quit overthinking it. If he got bored with her at some point, then so be it. It was hardly preventable in her eyes, for as much as she liked Luke, she wouldn't pretend to be someone she's not. She would only ever be herself, and if it wasn't enough for him, then she'd have to find a way to get over it—even if the idea was less than desirable.

On the other hand, she knew she could be wrong entirely. He did say he liked her, after all, and he had kissed her twice now. Surely that meant something, even if she wasn't sure exactly what.

You're being stupid, she shut her eyes, trying her best to relax again. She hated that her mind always drifted into the worst possible scenario, even when the arm around her waist felt like it had tightened the smallest bit.

She was positive she'd imagined it, for the boy behind her was asleep. He had to be, else he probably would've released her the second he was conscious of his hold. She was sure of it.

Trying to turn around was no use. The way he pressed himself against her left little to no room for movement, but it didn't stop her from squirming in his grasp just to check if his eyes were closed when she felt a small exhale hit the back of her neck.

A hand splayed out flat on her stomach. "Lisi," his voice was low, a shiver encasing the girl's spine at the raspy tone. "Stop moving."

She swallowed, stopping her movements with a quiet breath. For some reason, it surprised her and satisfied her that he hadn't pulled away. "You're awake," she started softly.

"Mmhm," he wanted to smirk. He'd been up for quite some time.

And when he first woke up, all he wanted to do was push her hair to the side and trail his lips on her skin. He almost did, too. He let his fingers toy with the neck of his hoodie she wore for far too long as he contemplated it, aching to expose her skin and wake her up with a kiss to the dip of her shoulder.