BOXER

twenty

Luke was starting to feel bad for all the times he forced his friends to sleep on the couch because fuck was it uncomfortable. He could literally feel the springs clawing into his back and the length of it definitely did not suffice Luke's height, which resulted in half of his legs hanging off the couch. And not to mention, there was something wrong with the air vent in the living room so he also sweat his ass off on top of everything. Long story short, the couch was really fucking uncomfortable and he barely got any sleep and really needed to invest in a new one.

All he could think about was how much Brielle was probably enjoying her sleep in his bed and how he wished to be in it too. Not only because it was much more comfortable than this shitty futon, but he wouldn't have minded sleeping with her -- and possibly, just maybe, having her accidentally end up in his arms. He thought she would've felt some guilt when he told her he was sleeping on the couch, but she showed absolutely no remorse and now he was stuck with a sore back and no sleep while she was lying comfortably in his bed and his shirt.

He obviously wasn't going to make a big deal out of it though -- if he had to sleep on what literally felt like a box of springs to make sure she was comfortable, then so be it.

He accepted the fact that sleep was something he was probably not going to get at around 6 A.M -- and though he definitely was not happy with this, he got up anyway.

It was probably a good thing that he got up so early -- today was an important day, as he had a match later that night that not only could boost his reputation at the boxing club but could earn him a lot of money considering how much of it was on the line. He almost forgot about it in the drama that had happened the day before, but it slipped back into his mind after he read a number of missed texts from Ashton asking why he hadn't showed to his training session yesterday.

He had planned on training, but obviously, things had not gone according to plan. And as glad as he was to be there for Brielle -- he couldn't let himself get sidetracked again. His career was the absolute most important thing in his life and he couldn't let her distract him from that. Of course, if anything was to happen like what happened the day before, he would drop everything to make sure she was okay. But now that everything seemed to be resolved, and (hopefully) he had scared Tyler somewhat, he felt confident that he should be able to go into this match without having to worry about her at all.

It was kind of crazy, how he actually worried about her despite only meeting her weeks ago. But especially after seeing her so distraught the morning before, he wanted to be the one to make sure that never happened again. She was a naive and fragile girl and for some reason he felt the need to protect her from all the bad in the world. Obviously, that wasn't possible, but that didn't mean he still didn't want to try.

Thankfully, when Luke walked into his room to wake Brielle to let her know that he was going to leave, she was already awake, scrolling on her phone. She turned her head immediately when the door opened, smiling when she saw his figure walk in.

"You're up early," he said, expecting her to still be out cold, as he padded towards the bed.

"So are you." Brielle scooted over to leave him room to sit, and he did, though as she scooted over, it caused the blanket to shift so her upper thigh was exposed. Luke caught a glimpse of it but quickly looked away -- he had almost forgotten that she was wearing nothing but her underwear under his shirt.

"That couch is fucking horrible," he complained, sighing happily when his body hit the mattress.

She pouted at him as she watched him get comfortable -- the exhaustion was evident in his eyes. "If you really wanted to you could've slept in here. It's your bed, yanno."