callaway me maybe

“You’re so good, Luke.” She found herself mumbling against his lips, as silence filled the empty space around them, her thoughts falling from her lips without hesitation. “You can’t be good all the time.” She’d always pictured him as so well put together. He had a home of his own, and she’d never once seen him fall apart the way she was so prone to doing when she was alone. The evenings were always the hardest, especially when she settled into a cold backseat for the night, runny mascara on her cheeks and aching muscles, the smell of whatever man she’d been with that night carrying on her skin. She wondered if Luke ever felt like that. Empty, and alone, the way she did. She hoped not. 

There was something tender in the way she touched Luke, that she rarely found herself doing with anyone else. Usually a kiss was nothing more than that, her lips pressed to somebody’s else’s, more often than not leading to something more physical and demeaning. But, not with him. Not tonight. She met him with the same fervent urgency as he seemed to give off, and in that moment, she felt like the only thing in his world. 

His phone began to ring once more, this time loud and unable to be ignored, the way she could have from the living room. Pulling back just slightly, her eyes searched his for some sort of explanation, a sadness on her face that, had she been able to see, she wouldn’t have been able to explain. “You should answer it.” She whispered, pulling away completely now, to sit on her knees, watching him search for the phone in the bed sheets. “I can go to the other room, if you want.” She offered, wondering if it was some sort of personal call that he wouldn’t want her to be a part of, based on the way he was acting. “Unless you want me to stay.”

Her words struck something in him. You can’t be good all the time. That was his problem. He was always trying to be good for everyone else. When he was a kid, it was his mom. When he’d finally met his dad, it was him. But who was it for now? Maybe he’d just gotten so used to it that he didn’t know if he wasn’t good. If he wasn’t the guy who could keep it all together and still have a smile on his face at the end of the night, then who was he? There was no guarantee that he’d like who was under that farce, or worse, that the little family he’d built in Derry would like him. Maybe she wouldn’t even like him. 

The gentle touches and the feeling that ran through his body as the two of them connected, helped bring him back down when his thoughts were racing. It was moments like this when he was glad that their relationship was the way that it was. She didn’t question him and he didn’t feel like he needed to explain himself, so he relished in the feeling until the ringing became too much for him to handle. “I’m turning it off.” He shifted the sheets, finding the phone and holding down the button on the side until it shut off, turning off the ringing for good. Or at least until he turned it on the next day. “No, don’t.” His head swiveled towards her in panic, reaching out to grab her arm gently. “Don’t go.” 

He tugged on her arm, pulling her towards him, her still on the mattress while he stood at the side of the bed. He towered over her, but he lowered his head to rest his forehead against hers. “I’m with you tonight.” Moving his hands up to her neck, he pushed his hands into her hair, fingers playing with the strands at the base. “No more phone.”

“You better.” Emily warned, although she really sounded like the most harmless person in the world and perhaps, she was. “You won’t know what hit you.” she added, narrowing her eyes just to add to her serious expression but quickly failed when the corners of her lips tugged upwards, forming a smile. Documentaries and criminal shows were fun, though the blonde tried not to watch them late at night because they gave her trouble sleeping. “Oh, I’ve watched a documentary about him.” she exclaimed, “The girl was lucky to refuse a date with him. Makes me wonder if he would have really killed her if they went out. He would have become the first suspect right away and I like to think he was better than that.” Emily rambled on and shrugged her shoulders. “I’d prefer it if you stayed alive, but whatever floats your boat..” she grinned, “Are you saying my version wouldn’t be? Ouch.” 

Laughing at her threat, Luke couldn’t shake the smile on his face. It wasn’t that she wasn’t not intimidating. Even if she were, he didn’t scare that easily. “I dunno, you look pretty close to popping me in the eye. I’d probably wake up and know it was you.” He nudged her with his shoulder softly. There was a sense of relief that he wasn’t the only one that watched documentaries about serial killers. He had to admit, that was one of his odder habits. “Well, yeah, they always suspect the boyfriend or whatever first. I think that’s what’s called a crime of passion. Don’t know if that’s what that could be considered though.” Luke pondered, scratching the scruff on his jawline. “You’re giving me some mixed signals here. One second you’re threatening me, the next you want me to live. What do you want?” Narrowing his eyes at her, he stared her down playfully. “It’d be a new classic. Which... is a oxymoron.” 

“You’re just saying that because you have to.” Of course, it was a little known fact that Luke didn’t have to do or say anything. When it all boiled down to the truth, he didn’t owe her anything. They were friends, and she knew that meant being kind and supportive, but she’d never felt as though she needed somebody to build her confidence, or make her feel pretty or special when she hadn’t necessarily needed it. It was the moments like these, when the two of them were able to just speak, letting whatever fell from their tongues grace the space between them, that she’d always appreciated most. 

She nearly apologized again, a habit she had collected over time, mostly in dealings with her father. She’d come to find that it was easier to surrender a load of apologies, even in the smallest of crimes, than it was to face the man’s wrath in the past. But, as she sat there with Luke, her father was the last person she wanted to think about, comparing somebody so good and pure as the boy before her to the evil spirited man that had raised her. Or rather, stolen her youth from her very hands. She was quiet now, thinking of what to say. Something she could do, aside from press gentle kisses to his skin or hug him tighter, as if to squeeze an answer out of him. 

“Not tonight.” She whispered, the words spoken so quietly he likely wouldn’t have heard them if she had still been standing across the room. They were spoken only for him, a near-silent swear that she cared about him, whether she had to or not. Whether she was supposed to or not. “Let me worry about you for a change.” It was something she rarely did, putting somebody else’s feelings on such an level of importance. But, it wasn’t often that Luke was so visibly off. The sound of his phone ringing in the bed sheets took her by surprise, and she was just about to move away to grab it for him when his lips met her’s. Leaning into his touch, one arm rose from where it had once hugged his shoulder close to her, and moved to cup his cheek, pulling him in for a second kiss, lingering and soft. 

“No,” he shook his head. “Because I want to.” When he was close to people, Luke wanted them to always know when he respected them or loved them or cared about them at all and he wasn’t shy about letting them know that. If someone could let him know how they felt about him, he somehow respected them more. It wasn’t easy to be upfront with someone, but he always strove to be the person that would do that because he wanted to. Not because he felt like he had to. When someone fell into a friendship with him, they had his loyalty and honesty for as long as that relationship lasted. 

His heart seemed to stop for a second too long when she spoke, urging him to let her worry about him. That was a burden he didn’t want her to have. Even though he’d had a fairly easy life and he couldn’t imagine living anything worse, he had years of bottled up emotions in him that were just a few stitches away from breaking loose. It was the first time in a long time that he’d been speechless and in any other situation, with anyone else, he would’ve felt awkward and unlike himself, but it was comfortable. The brown of her eyes always pulled Luke away, into a space where he could just relax and not be ‘on’ all the time. 

The urgency in his kiss was palpable as he pulled her closer to him. It hadn’t yet occurred to him that he wasn’t being fair to her, using the kiss as a distraction to the ringing. He didn’t want to use their agreement, to use her, as a way to fulfill his selfish needs but he couldn’t find it in him to pull away just yet, as the ringing came to a stop. His hands cupped her face, gently, as his lips worked against hers. Just when he thought he was in the clear, the ringing started again, pulling him out of his daze and away from her. “God dammit,” he spit, searching through the sheets for the phone to shut it up. 

She’d never been the comforting type. At least, not with words. She hardly knew the right thing to say, or do, let alone how to properly read most situations. It was much easier turning an emotional situation into a sexual one, her body the easiest way to portray how she felt and show those around her how she cared about them. But, for Luke, she’d try just about anything, even if it meant stepping out of her comfort zone. The two of them were friends, and they’d promised long ago that adding sex to the equation wouldn’t change things between them, but anyone that had been in that position knew that there was never a solid truth in that swear. They were friends, sure. But, Luke would always hold some sort of power over her, persuading her to do things she wouldn’t normally do. To care in ways she wouldn’t normally care. He was special to the raven haired girl, and it was evident in her every motion. 

“I wasn’t trying to look good.” She commented idly, a shrug falling from her shoulders as she finally situated the fabric against her lower leg in a way she saw fit. “My feet were just cold.” Chances were, she’d have those socks ripped off in the middle of the night, too hot under the covers once she tried to go to sleep, waking only to find them tangled in her blanket or tossed on the floor next to his bed. But, for now, they kept her warm enough, and they had been a simple enough excuse to visit him in his room. 

“I’m sorry.” She murmured, certain that if the water really had been cold, it was her own fault, having spent too long on her hair, or just enjoying the steam that filled the small space as she stood under the water, letting the heated temperature fall down against her muscles in a soothing rhythm. His kiss to her hand was something simple enough that she knew she shouldn’t have cared about, but it made her skin burn hot and her stomach spin, something she hated that he was capable of. Nobody else was ever as gentle with her as he was. “You know you can tell me anything, right?” She whispered, daring to press another kiss to his skin, choosing the corner of his mouth this time. “If you don’t want to talk about it, we don’t have to. But… don’t lie to me, Luke.” She was gentle, cautious even. “It just makes me worry, and I… can’t pretend that I don’t notice when something’s not right.” 

Weighing the options in his head, Luke dazed out, his thoughts all jumbled in his head. Was he ready to fully talk to someone about the situation with him and his mom? He wasn’t sure and he didn’t want to talk about it in fear of it being too much for them, or him, to handle. Looking at the girl next to him, he couldn’t help but think that if he did want to talk about it, if he could, she’d be the one that he’d want to tell. 

“You don’t have to try,” he remarked, the words coming out of his mouth truthfully. It didn’t matter when he saw her, waking up in the morning, after a shower or a long night, she did always look good to him. Maybe now, even more than usual, fresh faced from the shower she’d taken before he’d gotten home, and sitting on his bed in his clothes. This was a life that he’d built on his own. He’d started from scratch when he moved to Derry, living with his dad for a short amount of time before the accident. Since nothing in his dad’s will was able to be changed before he’d died, Luke was left with nothing. But this place was his, he’d worked for it, with help from no one, not even his mom. 

“Hey, no. Stop that,” his eyebrows furrowed at her. “Don’t apologize.” Saying sorry was something that he’d noticed she had a tendency to say to him, for even the littlest things, but he didn’t want his mood to make her feel like she’d done something wrong. His eyes scanned over her face, blood rushing to the spot where she’d kissed him, making his face heat up. “Don’t worry about me. I’m the one that worries,” he joked, moving his hand to brush her hair back behind her ear as his eyes locked on hers. In that moment, the phone playing that familiar tune again, buzzing against the mattress. Instinctively, he pressed his lips against hers, shutting out the sound. 

There was rarely heavy air in the space between the two of them, and yet as Sawyer hesitantly made her way into the familiar bedroom, she suddenly felt as though the ceiling could collapse with pressure at any moment. Anyone could force a smile or try to seem upbeat, but there was no denying that something had changed in the boy’s mood since he’d left to get a shower. She didn’t want to press, at risk of upsetting him, but she could tell something was off. If his tone wasn’t a dead giveaway, the fact that he covered himself with a towel as he got dressed surely did. It wasn’t as though she hadn’t seen the skin beneath the fabric more than a handful of times in the past. 

She was quiet, fiddling with the fabric that now covered her toes at his question, noting how sharp the words that fell from his tongue were, but deciding not to make a big deal of it. “Socks.” She answered simply, though her own voice had shrank into something almost timid, a quality that Sawyer certainly didn’t carry around with her often. “I just.. wanted socks.” That was a lie, of course. It wasn’t that her feet weren’t cold. They were. But, she’d gone in that room specifically for him, and anyone that truly knew her would likely be well aware of her true intentions.

If it were anyone else getting dressed on the edge of that bed, she likely would have retreated to the couch and hit play on the movie she’d chosen. But, this was Luke, and that meant something entirely different to her. Something she couldn’t put into words. Her feet carried her in his direction, and she climbed onto the mattress so she could sit behind him, arms hugging around his shoulders only to press a gentle kiss to his shoulder blade, before resting her chin in the same spot. “Luke…” She whispered softly, pressing another kiss to his neck now, gentle and innocent. “What’s going on?” Her voice was quiet, her own way of saying they didn’t have to talk about it, but hoping they would. 

Maybe it was because he’d had such a bad night at the bar, but Luke couldn’t shake the the ever-growing cloud over his head as the night went on, but that didn’t mean that he wouldn’t try his damndest. He figured himself as more of the ‘fatherly’ figure in his own life, amongst his friends and his family, once upon a time, so it didn’t seem natural to have other people comfort him, though he particularly loved the calming effect that Sawyer normally had on him. There were nights, much like earlier that same evening, that he could walk into his apartment and see her and a sour mood would lift completely just from seeing her smile. He didn’t want to ruin the night for her, wanting to be selfless just like he always was. 

Eyeing her fingers that toyed with the fabric at her feet, Luke nodded, gluing the smile back on his face, this time a little less forced than before. Seeing her in his top and his socks made him happy. He knew that their relationship wasn’t anything beyond friends that happened to hook up when it was convenient for both of them, but she was a soft spot for him. “They look better on you than they do on me.” 

Feeling her weight shifting on the mattress, it took him a moment to realize that she’d moved closer to him. His hands moved up to rest on her arms, he moved her wrist to his mouth. After placing a kiss against her skin there, he let his lips linger for a few seconds before he turned to meet her eyes. “The water was cold,” he laughed, as if to prove to the both of them that he was fine. But the grip he still had on her wrist was saying the opposite. “I’m good. I am. Promise.” 

As he made his way for the bathroom, Sawyer settled onto the sofa, curling her short legs beneath her, leaning into the cushions behind her back as she began to rapidly scroll through the different options on the television, thumb battling against the button with a white painted down arrow, hunting for something scary and filled with gore than she actually felt like watching. Truth be told, she didn’t care what they watched, so long as it wasn’t something that would hit a nerve, hoping to avoid the awkward conversation that would likely come with something like that. Finally settling on the newest Annabelle movie, she pressed play, hitting pause just as quickly so it would be ready for the two of them when he finished. 

She knew it wasn’t necessarily gory, but it was the only scary movie she could find in the time she had to search, haring the shower come to a halt, and a faint ring from the same direction. Of course, her stomach dropped at the sound. It was late, and as selfish as it may have been, Sawyer had liked the idea of having him all to herself for the evening. Listening a little too carefully, she waited on the couch until she heard his footsteps cross the hall, something she read as an invitation to pester him, as he called out to her, immediately picking fun.

A guest in his home, comfortable or not, she still let her knuckles rap against the wood of his bedroom door, before lightly cracking it open to peek inside. “Hey, you.” Her voice was soft, hesitant, as she stood in the door way. “Everything okay?” There was a genuine sense of care in her tone. “I, uhm, I picked out a movie, by the way.” She commented lightly, finally stepping into the room to make her way towards his sock drawer, picking out a pair for herself and sitting on the edge of his bed to slide them past her toes, pairing the cozy footwear with the sweatshirt she’d practically claimed as her own by this point. “It’s not so much… gory. At least, I don’t think it’s gonna be. But, it looks good. And it gives me a good excuse to curl up in your lap.” She teased with a wide smile.

There were things in life that could bring you back to a certain time. For some people it was smells, for some it was objects, but for Luke, it was sounds. The sound of a crowded football field on a Friday night where he’d put all of his energy into the game. The old jukebox playing Johnny Cash at the diner him and his friends would hang out at after those games. The sound of bolts being tightened in his dad’s shop. And the sound of his mom’s ringtone that he’d always kept the same so he’d know when to pick up. In the last few years, since arriving in Derry, that ringtone became a burden to him. There were nights when he’d heard it in his sleep. And then there was the night that it was no longer a nightmare. The last time he’d answered it was the last time he’d heard from her - three years ago. But now, in the past few weeks, the call had been coming in more and more.

He’d pushed the door to his bedroom shut, without letting it click. If he’d just been changing, he wouldn’t have bothered to shut it at all as it was nothing she hadn’t seen before, however, that sound had thrown him for a loop. It was the latest she’d ever called and his instinct was to grab it to make sure she was okay, but he couldn’t make himself do it. Throwing the phone on his bed, he paused in front of his dresser, hand hovering over the knob to the drawer of his sweatpants. Drawing in a deep breath, he heard a small fist knock against the door. “Hey,” he responded, forcing a smile towards her. Luke quickly grabbed a pair of sweats and readjusted his towel as he sat on the edge of the mattress. 

“What’re you doing in here then?” He tried to keep his tone light and playful, grimacing a bit when it sounded too harsh coming off his tongue. He wasn’t the guy that would take out his frustration on anyone else, let alone Sawyer of all people, so he glanced away, hoping she wouldn’t call him for it. He pushed his feet through the pants of his sweats, pulling them up under the towel before tossing the wet material aside. “Let’s get it started, yeah?” 

Any one with a decent set of eyes could see that Luke was showstopper. He was tall, and his hair curled in all the right places, and he had the kind of smile that made a girl go weak in her knees. Sawyer wasn’t immune to his boyish looks or even his small-town charm, to say the least, a soft spot reserved in her hardened heart just for him, but she’d rarely admit a thing like that out loud, instead buttering him up with a collection of soft compliments here and there. But, her fondness for the boy went beyond the way he looked. Something about him, the way he carried himself, his voice steady and his eyes always laughing, he made her feel safe, and special, and normal, without ever really needing to try. She could be herself around him. Or, at least, as much of herself as she wanted to be. 

She took the remote control, and gave him a knowing look, as if to call him a quitter, but chose instead to nod her head. It was easier this way. She could find something she could stomach, and he could slip into the bathroom while she did so. Her hands finding his shoulders as he helped her off the counter, she clung a little closer than she should have as her feet leveled against the cold floor beneath them, remote in one hand as she reluctantly let go. “I’ll find something good.” She promised, a grin playing across her lips. “Go get clean.”

It was a personal preference of Luke’s to stay neutral in most situations he came across. He wasn’t under the impression that he was some macho, manly man who refused to see the emotional side of things, because he was quite the opposite. Being raised by women had opened up his personality to that side of himself. That meant growing up, he was able to befriend girls and form deeper connections with them while a majority of his male friends weren’t able to see more than pretty faces and great bodies. Despite Sawyer’s pointed look at him, he didn’t mind giving her control, especially over something as small as picking a movie that would make her happy. “Better not have used all my soap,” he called behind him before shutting the door. 

The hot water falling over him was a welcome change from the rain. There was nothing better than taking a few minutes to just stand there and unwind from the night. When it came to washing himself, he purposefully chose a different body wash from the one she’d used, preferring that particular scent on her and her alone. In the corner of the room, where he’d shed his jeans, he heard his phone ring out and froze. He didn’t want to answer that. Not now. Not tonight. 

Cutting his shower short, he wrapped a towel around his waist, exiting the steamy room. “You’ve got, like, five seconds to pick one. Better get your shit together,” he called with a laugh as he dashed to his room, mainly to grab a pair of sweatpants, but also to discard his phone.

“You’re cute, y’know that?” The comment fell from her lips mindlessly, an absent observation that anyone could pick up on if they spent enough time around the boy. It wasn’t so much his appearance, though he wasn’t unattractive either, but there was a way about him that was simply endearing, and she pictured she’d never truly tire of it. “And to think, I went out of my way to make sure I smelled nice for you.” It wasn’t entirely for him, but he didn’t need to know that it’d been two days since she’d last bathed, and that her hair was getting greasy and her skin felt oily and dirty. He’d never be able to tell now, the scent of whatever soap bar he’d had in the shower decorating her skin, as well as the shampoo she’d chosen from his shelf. “Gore’s fine. Just, nothin’ like… y’know.” She didn’t think she had to say it by now, but she always liked to remind him. She liked horror movies, more than she probably should’ve, but she was well aware of the fact that with the horror genre often came other unthinkable acts, and she couldn’t quite stomach some of them. The particulars having been spelled out for him a few times in the past. “Promise you’ll let me hide in your shoulder if it gets too gross?” With anyone else, she’d put on a brave face. But, with Luke? She was practically searching for a reason to let him hold her close in his arms.

“I may have heard that once or twice.” He shot her a cheeky smile, his cheeks warming involuntarily at her comment. The girl at the bar had told him the same thing, ironically enough, but it took on a whole different meaning to him when Sawyer said it. He wasn’t, or at least he hoped he wasn’t, just a face to her. She was one of the people he’d grown the closest to in Derry, despite the short amount of time that they’d actually known each other and he’d let himself relax around her, not always having to be the life of the party. “As a guest in my place, you should absolutely always smell good for me.” He took a subtle breath in, smelling the air around him, picking out her scent. The familiar smell of his soap and shampoo filled his nostrils, but it didn’t take away from the fact that it was coming from her. Grasping his bottle in his hand, he walked around the kitchen counter back into his living room to grab the remote off the coffee table, pulling up a list of movies to rent before stalking back to her. “I’m giving you the power.” He placed the remote in her hand, looking down at her. As much as he liked a reason to get closer to her, he didn’t want her to feel uncomfortable because of anything that he chose. “I’m gonna rinse off really quick.” He wiggled his eyebrows at her, his hands moving to her waist to help her off the counter. “Surprise me.” Settling her feet on the floor, he moved towards the bathroom, grabbing the towel as he went.

“You’re confusing fun people with you.” She shot back, her features aglow with a smile just as bright as her eyes, laughter falling from her thin lips as she gave him a playful shove. She knew he was right; She really could eat from time to time, often taking advantage of the extra pizza slices or a handful, or three, too many potato chips. But, she’d never say why, and he never asked, chalking it up to a fast metabolism, or the old ‘haven’t eaten all day’ excuse. Her eyes dropped to his jeans, and then back to his, a silent understanding that neither really pried when the other didn’t delve into details. She’d always appreciated that most about him. “You wanna change? Or shower? There should still be plenty’a hot water.” She recalled, certain that she hadn’t spent too long in the shower. As he moved towards the counter, she perched herself up on the smooth top, sitting on the edge so her legs dangled just before the lower cabinets, opening her own bottle of water to take a small sip. “A movie sounds nice.” She nodded, tightening the cap a little too secure as she turned her attention solely to the boy before her. “Got one in mind?”

“I always do that.” He playfully facepalmed, shaking his head. Truthfully, he felt bad not having anything more to offer her than a drink and he debated calling his favorite late night pizza place to have them drop something off just in case she did want something to eat. She was always such a calming presence to him and he appreciated her more than he had ever expressed to her with words, but then again, words were never his strong point and he had a hard time having serious conversations because he never wanted to be that person. The one that always had to put a damper on everyone’s mood because of heavy topics, so instead, he chose to have the lighthearted, laid-back persona that he displayed. “You don’t like the nice musk I’ve got going? I did it just for you,” his eyes crinkled as he smiled at her, pausing to look her over. Sitting on the counter in his shirt, she looked even smaller than she normally did. “You know if you let me pick, I’m picking something bloody,” he licked his lips, giving her a pointed look as he settled his hand on her knee. “You up for gore?” 

“Nobody hates waterbeds.” She corrected, a childlike grin sweeping across her features as she peeked past his bicep, gazing into the empty fridge. “I swear it was like that when I got here.” She spoke quietly, a playfulness carrying through her voice, as her chin found it’s way to rest against his skin once more. She was always comfortable with him like this, certain that it was part of the allure in their friendship. “You been drinkin’?” She didn’t care what the answer was, but his didn’t smell the way he usually did. Odd as it was, Luke, just as all people did, had his own unique scent and Sawyer was quite familiar with it by this point. But, tonight he reeked of alcohol. The smell, unknowingly coming from his jeans, was the last thing on her mind though, as he turned and pulled her close, kissing her forehead. The simple motion left her stomach spinning in a way she chose to ignore. “You were gonna call me?” There was a hopefulness in her tone, and she peered up at him, wide eyed and the corners of her mouth tugging into a soft smile. Usually, when somebody invited her over, it was just to get her into bed, and while she and Luke had spent plenty of times in the sheets, she felt like maybe this time it wasn’t like that. It just seemed… sweeter than usual. 

“You’re confusing normal people with you.” He shot her an incredulous look, poking fun at the raven haired girl. She knew just as well as he did that this was the normal state of his fridge, so there was no doubt in his mind that it did, in fact, look like that when she had arrived, but teasing her was always too much fun for him. “I’ve seen you eat,” he quirked an eyebrow up at her. “And I swear I had more in there than this.” Shutting the doors as he moved to the counter, he got another waft of the alcohol that was settled into the jeans and had to stifle his gag reflex. He was around the smell twenty-four/seven but the smell of stale mixed drinks was enough to trigger a reaction from him. “Just a rough night,” he sighed, deciding not to share with her how the spill had happened as he motioned to his pants. Though the two of them were not strangers to the others bodies by this point in their friendship and he was pretty sure she wouldn’t get offended or feel disrespected by it, there was an unsettling factor of telling her about other women trying it on with him. “Figured you might wanna watch a movie or something,” he cracked the bottle open, taking a nice long swig of the chilled water as he kept eye contact with her. 

“Just your bed.” She was well aware of how that may sound, but that was to blame for the smirk playing across her lips. His towel landed slumping past her wet locks and down her damp shoulders, and she wrapped her hair in the fabric for a few moments, another failed attempt to dry it more, before trailing behind him into the kitchen. She was thankful he didn’t seem to want a full explanation, instead just greeting her as though it wasn’t out of place to see her in his clothes or on his couch. “Water’s fine,” She answered simply, snaking her arms around his middle from behind as he peered inside the fridge, pressing a soft kiss to his shoulder blade before resting her head in the same spot. It was almost too comfortable, but Luke had been a good friend to her, she wasn’t afraid to be soft around him. “More than anything, I just didn’t wanna be alone tonight.” She admitted quietly.

“You know how much I hate waterbeds.” he responded in false naivety to her obvious innuendo. Holding the refrigerator door open with his right hand, he dropped his head down, resting it on his bicep as he hid his grin from her, but only for a moment before he fixed his face into a neutral expression, grabbing two water bottles out for them. A beer was the last thing he wanted after the night he had at work. He was pretty certain that his damp jeans still smelled of the rum and coke that some overly flirtatious blonde had accidentally knocked over the bar and onto him in an attempt to talk to him. The sensation of her lips pressed to the skin of his shoulder perked him up as he turned around, snaking his arm around her shoulder to pull her close as he pressed his own lips to the top of her head. “Must’ve read my mind, ‘cause I was gonna call you to see what you were up to.” 

It wasn’t often that Sawyer found herself lying to her friends. At least, not out right. Sure, she kept her occupation and the way she spent her money a secret just as much as her living situation, but she did her best not to make a habit of telling fibs in general. But, she’d found long ago that Luke was fairly giving with his friends, and upon receiving a key to his apartment, had found an opportunity to sneak in for a shower or nap when she saw fit, usually coming up with some sort of tale as to how she was jogging in the area and didn’t feel like heading the rest of the way home, or how work had ran late and she was dead tired. Something just believable enough that it wouldn’t raise any suspicions. Today, it was a quick shower and a nap in his bed, a mattress she was no stranger to by this point. Though, hearing his voice woke her quickly, and she made her way out into the living room, offering a wide smile. “Your favorite shithead.” She beamed from the doorway, before moving to plop down on the couch, clad in one of his tee shirts, hair still dripping down the back. 

Hearing the familiar voice floating through the hallway from his bedroom, Luke grinned under the towel as he finished ruffling his hair. Pulling the wet cloth from his head, he tossed it over his shoulder as he inched toward the couch, where she sat. His hand inched towards her hair, plucking one of the dark, wet strands in between his thumb and pointer finger, inspecting it. “Soaking my entire apartment?” He teased, pulling the towel from his shoulder and tossing it over her playfully as he stalked towards the kitchen. He was actually glad it was Sawyer instead this time of night, not because the girl was beyond beautiful, but because he genuinely enjoyed her presence. “What’cha need? I only have beer and water, so your options are limited, but, at least I’m offering.” He looked over his shoulder as he stood in front of his fridge, yanking it open to reveal the not so stocked shelves. Grocery shopping wasn’t his finest work.

By the time he’d made it to his door, he found it unlocked, which wasn’t unusual. He had a sort of open door policy with the people closest to him and a lot of them had keys to his place. None of his family were in Derry, so he sort of had to make his own in the town. He pushed his door open, dropping his things down besides the couch as he pulled at the wet t-shirt, tugging it off and reaching his storage closet to pull out a towel as he looked around his place. “Alright, which one of you shitheads is it?” He called out, rubbing the towel over his head to dry his hair.

She was proud to get a reaction like that – no one was ever intimidated by Emily. Still, it was a reaction and it was obvious he didn’t expect it. “No… not right now. Maybe, when you least expect it.” the blonde replied, only to crack a smile. She wasn’t serious of course. “Ah! Interesting. Who’s your favorite and why?” There were so many shows Em liked to watch, but those always fascinated her. It showed how people, as ordinary as they were could always come up with a way to hurt others. “You’re so full of yourself. You know, guys like you could be someone’s easy target. I bet you’d go down faster than me.” Crossing her arms over her chest, the blonde smiled. “Are you saying it wouldn’t be?” 

It was hard to pinpoint the reason she was so insecure all the time. Being considered the weird kid growing up more than likely had something to do with it, but she wasn’t about to reveal all of her secrets to Luke so early, even if he did make her comfortable. His palm was warm against hers as they shook hands, and the blonde smiled softly, letting the touch linger for just long enough before she retracted her hand. “It was my pleasure,” she teased, half-turning from him. “Have a good rest of your day, Luke. I hope to see you again soon.”