#5sospank

You forced yourself to push the thoughts out of your head. You were brought back to yourself, lulling into reality when you felt his strong arm wrap around your frame. A breeze was picking up despite the hot, roaring fire in front of you, illuminating the features of everyone sat around its perimeter. Luke’s eyes were cold and alert; a contrast to what they usually looked like when his gaze would lock on yours, light to match his smile, which was also failing to make an appearance at the moment. He was thinking. You could practically see the gears turning within his own head, his jaw clenched and his lips set in a thin line.

With a soft sigh, you leaned into his side just slightly, making him aware that you wanted his attention. Once Luke looked down at you, his stare dropped over your face in observation. He raised his brows. “What’s up, babe?”

The petname tugged at the hole in your heart, which was only growing with every passing second. It was your last night spent with the boy who you had wrapped around your finger for the entire summer. The both of you were realizing it, although the definitive feeling in the air was affecting Luke more than it was you.

“Just wanted to know what you were thinking of.” You murmured in reply. Your proximity to him was so close, you could shift forward a fraction of an inch and your lips would be on his.

Luke smiled, although the gesture was empty. Forced. “I was thinking of getting out of here, maybe taking a drive.” He replied nonchalantly. “Wanna talk to you.”

You felt yourself tense. You knew what he meant by “talk” and you also knew that it didn’t mean he was just up for the mindless chat that the two of you usually shared. Luke was being serious. You could see it etched into his every feature.

“All right,” you said. “Let’s go.”

The two of you stood up from the flimsy plastic lawn chairs in synchronization, turning the heads of those who were sat around the fire with you. You said your goodbyes. Some were saddening, considering you had made a good handful of friends that summer, but you eventually walked from the beach with ease. Some relationships were meant to be fleeting, you had learned.

Your footsteps fell heavy once you reached the pavement, nearing Luke’s old pickup truck. The two of you had spent much time crammed into its cab, singing along to the radio’s top ten pop songs with the windows rolled down. Sometimes you would find the energy to get up early with him and go through the drive thru, getting coffees and donuts to share while you would watch the sunrise. He would drive you around town, revving the sputtering engine to impress you, although his attempts would fail miserably. The memories were warm.

You could feel the lump in your throat begin to thicken.

Luke was walking a short distance behind you, but he quickly picked up his pace to step in front of you to open up the passenger door and help you in. You felt his hand linger on the small of your back once you climbed into the cab, inhaling his scent for one of the last times. He shut the door in silence and rounded the vehicle’s front, swinging himself up into the driver’s seat before turning the key in its ignition.

The radio continued playing from before when he had picked you up for the party. It hummed low in the background, clouded by the white noise that was resonating in your mind. You could feel the tension between the two of you, how it was masking what was supposed to be a bittersweet ending to one of the best vacations of your life. You had messed up. You had fucked with Luke’s feelings, and you didn’t deserve to be sad about it.

He pulled out of the parking lot. You watched the way his arms were extended outward, fingers curling around the steering wheel effortlessly. His side profile was illuminated by the sporadic street lamps, his jaw littered with patchy stubble that you had grown to admire. He looked good, but unhappy.

“What did you want to talk about?” You urged yourself to ask. Your voice sounded foreign, unknown due to its shake.

Luke swallowed thickly, glancing over at you as the two of you waited at a stop light. The entire town was quiet, asleep, considering it was well past midnight and the population consisted mainly of retired elderly people. You liked the peacefulness of your surroundings.

“I, uh, just wanted to talk about us, really.” He stuttered out. He seemed nervous as well, chewing on his lower lip, his thumbs tapping repetitively against the steering wheel.

You said nothing in reply. You weren’t sure of how to bring up the subject of your relationship with Luke, if you could even call it that. The two of you had spent the past three months hooking up without ever defining whatever you were. However, you were practically inseparable, and you knew how he felt about you even if he never explicitly said it.

You inhaled sharply as if to brace yourself. “Luke…I have to leave tomorrow. You know that.” You muttered. Your tone was deflated and hopeless.

Luke continued driving down the main street, the low hum of his truck comforting you despite the hecticness that was going on within your thoughts. You could see how your words had already began to cut into him, leaving him bleeding already.

He was silent for another moment. You watched as he turned the truck into the empty parking lot of a local restaurant. It was dark, but you could still make out the torn expression on his face. He didn’t want to hear the answers you had to his questions. He already knew. But he still felt as though he should ask. He needed some sort of closure. He fell in love with you in the span of three months, and he wasn’t sure if he would ever see you again. Luke was holding onto the one last shred of hope he had, that maybe you were in love with him too.

The truck was in park. Luke turned off the ignition, although the keys were still abandoned in the ignition. You two were sitting in uncomfortable silence. He was the first to break the impending quiet.

“I know you’re gone tomorrow, but I figured this would be…worth a shot, maybe.” He muttered, shifting in his seat to look at you fully.

You couldn’t help but stare back at him. He was so beautiful, and he was right in front of you all summer. You felt awful for stringing him on.

“What are you trying to say, Luke?” You sighed.

He ran his fingers through his hair, thinking before he spoke, spitting out his words in haste. “Do you love me?”

You weren’t sure what you were expecting him to say, but it wasn’t that. The blunt question made your blood run cold. You froze, your eyes still locked on his, and you could detect the hope that was laced within his gaze. He was completely and utterly still, afraid to even move a muscle, as if even that would change your answer.

But you took too long to come up with a response. Your answer was lain in your hesitation. You didn’t love him back, not in the way that he loved you, at least. You didn’t love him. Even though the months that you had spent with him were some of the best of your life, stuck by his side through every hour of the day, spent creeping into his bedroom while trying not to wake his parents. You didn’t love him, even though he was the one you shared the summer with, sneaking kisses on the beach or wiping the ice cream from the tip of his nose as you laughed. You didn’t love him and you couldn’t bother to hide it. Not anymore.

Still, you opened your mouth for his benefit. You wanted to tell him you loved him. You wanted to love him. But Luke caught you, raising his hand in interruption, bowing his head as he stared down onto his lap.

“Just…nevermind. Don’t say anything,” he replied, dejected, his voice hoarse. “But I love you. And I-I want you to remember me, all right?”

It was almost as if you could feel your heart shatter into millions of tiny little pieces. You could feel it sinking into your chest, your palms warm with nervous sweat as you stared into the eyes of a boy who loved you with everything in him, but you didn’t feel the same. You never knew that guilt could hurt so badly.

“I’m sorry.” You whispered sadly.

Luke shook his head, running his palms over his jaw. You watched his actions, noticed the blatant disappointment that shone through in his every movement. However, you were surprised once you heard him say, “C’mere.”

“What?”

“Come here.” He repeated himself. “Let me kiss you. One last time, just let me kiss you.”

You were unsure of yourself as you unbuckled your seatbelt. You already felt bad enough about leading him on for so long. The fact that he still wanted to kiss you was confusing, but you wanted to do whatever would make him feel better. So you shifted over the seats in the cab of his truck until you were side by side, although Luke had other ideas. He was already pulling you into his lap, already pushing your hair out of your face. His fingertips ghosted over your jawline as his eyes studied you. It was like he was trying to memorize the way you looked, because the both of you knew it would be the last time.

And then he was leaning in, just brushing his lips over yours gently and slowly, his eyes barely open. You were shaking like a leaf beneath his touch, overwhelmed and perplexed, guilty and disconsolate. But he was calming you. His hands on you were like a saving grace, feeling the same as they did all summer long, palms calloused and rough against your smooth skin. His taste hadn’t changed and you felt yourself wanting to remember him, just as he had said. Your feelings differed but you didn’t want to forget him.

You melted into his kiss, caving into him completely and fully, letting him wrap his arms around you. You cupped his face in your hands, feeling his facial hair scratch against you as his jaw moved while his lips did. His kisses were slow and deliberate, pointed, as if he was trying to make the moment worthwhile. You had never kissed him so languidly and effortlessly before, and suddenly, you wished you had spent the whole summer like this - savoring his words and his flavor and the way he fit with you.

Luke sighed against your lips, pulling away after a moment to trail his hands up and over your shoulders, down the expanse of your arms as he admired the way you looked while you were perched in his lap. He was quiet and his chest was heaving gently, heart racing, breathless. You were in the same condition, in awe of what had just happened between the two of you. You could hear your blood pounding in your ears, your lips tingling from his kiss.

“This is the last time we’ll ever see each other, isn’t it?” He questioned, tenor gravelly.

“Yeah,” you nodded. “It is.”

Luke frowned and his fingers curled around your wrists subtly. You stared down at him, awaiting his next move, but time was frozen at the moment. It felt as if you were going to be stuck in the cab of Luke’s truck with him forever, retracing the memories in your head, reminding yourself of how much he loved you.

“Let’s make the most of it, then.” Luke stated quietly.

Your eyebrows drew together at the sound of his words. You cocked your head, immediately opposed to his proposition, but Luke seemed dead set in his ways. He was nodding, already convincing you with the mere look on his face, moving to hold your hands in his own and squeeze.

“C’mon,” he whispered. “It’s only one more night. Just…just lie to me again.”

You blinked. You felt horrible while listening to the desperation in his voice, how badly he wanted to make this night with you last forever. And you were sure that in Luke’s mind, it would last forever - he would play these moments over and over again in his head, play your memories on repeat, thinking of all the times that you told him you were in love, but not with your words - with your actions.

So you did what he said. You leaned in, quicker than you had before, succumbing to his conviction as you kissed him passionately, igniting the fire that had been burning inside of you ever since you met him. Your body fit together with his perfectly, skin electrified by his mere touch, but there was an emotional disconnect that you had finally been able to acknowledge. Except now, the two of you were ignoring it.

And you reveled in that - in the ability to suppress your guilt and your regret as you buried yourself in Luke’s kiss, twining your fingers through his hair as you pushed it up and off his forehead. He whimpered while you shifted in his lap, feeling your lower halves move closer as you arched into him. His hands smoothed down your back, gripping your hips as your tongue rolled along his acutely.

Luke pulled away just a fraction of an inch, his lips still against yours as he mumbled, “Lie to me, baby.”

You tugged on the roots of his hair gently. It was enough to make him whine again, to lean in and reconnect his lips to yours. You could taste the mint on his tongue which surely contrasted the alcohol that lingered on yours, although Luke didn’t mind. He would take whatever he got when it came to you, especially on this last night. He would take anything.

His hands slid up the curvature of your waist, beneath the cotton material of your old tee shirt. Well, it was actually his - you had stolen it from his bedroom floor at the beginning of the summer, but soon it became yours once Luke saw you in it, claiming he liked the way you looked in his clothes. And he was letting you keep it, surely. You didn’t even want to give it back.

You could feel his grasp sliding over your ribs, raising goosebumps on your skin. His hands were cold and chilling, moving over every inch of you, trying to feel as much of you as he possibly could. The two of you were virtually ravenous. Your pace was speeding up as your kisses turned sloppy, swallowing one another’s pants as your tongue traced over his bottom lip before you pulled back just briefly, allowing Luke to tug the shirt over your head.

You observed him smile to himself as he tossed it to his side, most likely noticing that it was his. But then his eyes were back on yours, pale eyelashes surrounding his infinitely blue irises that somehow still shone despite the darkness. You took your hands from his hair, your palms sliding down his cheeks until you were cupping his face while you stared at one another. Your chests were still heaving and the air was still hot around you, but you needed this moment - just a silent pause while you met his gaze, bringing you back to Earth, sobering you.

And then you leaned in to kiss him again, grinding your hips down against his, your jaw going slack from the relieving feeling of the friction. Luke’s reaction mirrored yours: his mouth fell agape instantaneously before he sucked in a sharp breath, his forehead resting against yours as the both of you became too distracted to continue your kissing.

You steadied yourself on his broad shoulders, gripping them through the thick material of the flannel shirt that he had thrown on over an old tank top. Your breathing was ragged as you focused on the gyration of your lower half, how Luke would shift his hips up so that he could increase the contact, hands stationed back on your hips again.

He tilted his head upward so that he could kiss you once more, rolling his tongue languidly over yours, pulling your body down as the friction began to tease him to the point where he was growing frustrated. You could feel him hard beneath you, erection straining against the tight denim of his jeans, making your stomach jolt from the mere thought.

Luke’s hands skimmed up your exposed torso, twining around your back so that he could unclasp your bra. His fingers fumbled nervously for a moment before he was pulling the material from your chest, letting it fall from your arms before you threw it to the side, your eyes locking on Luke again.

He reached out, although you were already close enough to touch. He ran his palms over your breasts, squeezing them, his lips parted as his gaze flickered back up to meet yours. “So fuckin’ pretty, baby.” He murmured, then reached up to tuck your hair behind your ear.

You blinked at him, unable to summon the words to reply to his dreamy compliment. Everything felt dazed - you were guilty all night over what you had done to him this summer, but here he was, touching you and holding you close to him like you hadn’t done anything wrong.

The pad of Luke’s thumb swiped along your bottom lip as he looked at you longingly, then leaned in and pressed a lingering kiss to your forehead. You felt the cool metal of his lip ring and the scratch of his beard against your skin before he pulled back again, allowing you to tug the flannel he was wearing down his arms. You pulled it off until he was shrugging out of it, left in a tight white tank top, that same necklace he always wore dangling against his skin, shining from the moonlight outside of the truck.

“Gonna miss you, y’know.” Luke whispered, his thumb still smoothing over your bottom lip in soothing patterns. “Wanna show you how much I’ll miss you, all right? That okay?”

“Yeah, Luke.” You nodded, your voice weak as you spoke, lowering as he pulled you in for another kiss.

And you were lost again. It felt like it did all summer long - you could practically taste the salt on his skin from the ocean, practically feel the warmth that was radiating from his body from the sun. It was like you had rewound time to the first month that you had spent together, completely immersed in one another without a worry in the world. It felt effortless, but you knew the moment meant so much more to Luke. For you, this was a goodbye, but for him, this was his last chance to prove himself to you. He was still hopeful despite the fact that he knew you didn’t care for him - not that way.

Luke’s tongue was smooth and sweet against yours. It traced the outline of your own, his hands still on your breasts, your nipples hardening from his touch. Your skin was littered in goosebumps but you could only concentrate on the way his chest felt so broad beneath your palms. You could feel his heart beating through the thin material of his tank top, how it was pounding erratically, contrasting against your own heart’s steady pace. He was nervous, anxious, and you knew exactly why.

You ground your hips down again, hearing him expel a quiet whimper that matched your own. Luke’s touch traveled southern, his fingertips trailing over your navel before they were fidgeting with the button on your denim shorts. You felt your breathing shallow once he unzipped them, letting you shift so that he could shove them halfway down your thighs, leaving you in some flimsy lace underwear.

“Wanna feel you, baby.” He gritted, touch dancing around the area where you were craving him most.

“Luke,” You sighed his name, your stare burning into his intensely.

He said nothing in reply, averting his gaze downward to where his fingertips were trailing over your slit. The angle wasn’t ideal but you made do with all the room that you had in the cramped area of his truck, which only forced you to be even closer together.

Finally, you felt him touch you properly, his index and middle fingers rubbing you over the material of your underwear. Your fingernails dug into his shoulders, surely leaving behind crescent-shaped marks that would still be there tomorrow, even if you weren’t. You were inundated with how quickly he warmed up your body, breaths escaping from behind his teeth as his eyes flickered from your lower half up to your facial expression so that he could gauge your reaction.

“Gonna miss how good you look like this.” He mumbled after a moment, still brushing his fingers over you haphazardly.

You were practically bucking your hips up into his touch, your bottom lip taken between your teeth. Luke was enjoying your desperation, but he didn’t show it. He wore a poker face, his brow furrowed and his lips now set in a tight line, jaw clenched and eyelashes pale against his light pallor. He looked determined, focused only on making you writhe from his touch.

He then dipped his hand beneath the waistband of your underwear, dragging his fingers up your slit, gathering the moisture that had developed between your legs. He was breathing unevenly, overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment as he began rubbing at your clit, looking up to enjoy the way that your body was already shaking in front of him.

You leaned back so that you were practically draped over the steering wheel and dashboard. Your back was arched as you moved to grip the door beside you along with the center console. Luke was stunned for a moment by the way you appeared, completely sprawled out and hot all over, your lips parted in pleasure as your eyelids fluttered shut. His movements slowed, his mouth falling agape at the sight of you.

“Always so beautiful,” Luke told you. “Remember that.”

And you believed his words. Providing the way he was looking at you, it was hard not to. Luke was always so sincere, wanting nothing more than to please you, than to have you as his own. But that couldn’t happen, and it wouldn’t - you were leaving tomorrow, you were lying to him.

You felt him insert two of his digits into your center, easing them forward slowly. Your body retracted, breathing shallowing as you screwed your eyes shut at the intrusive feeling. Luke’s free hand smoothed over your bare torso, between the valley of your breasts, down over your navel until he was rubbing at your clit, curling his fingers at the knuckle. Your jaw slackened at the combination of the pleasures, your tenor wavering as you gritted out, “Shit, Luke, feels good.”

“Yeah, baby?” You heard him rasp. “Like that?”

You only nodded rigorously. Your eyes flashed open for a sparing second to see Luke already gazing at you, the movement of his fingers unceasing. Your walls were clenched around his digits as he eased them in and out of you at a steady, safe pace, but it was still enough to get you sweating. Your skin was growing clammy and sticky and your stomach was tensing as Luke’s fingertips continuously traced around your clit in a teasing manner.

You could hear his breaths escaping from his lips just as fast as yours were. He was getting worked up from watching the way your body responded to his touch. The way that he could get you shaking beneath him in a matter of minutes was something that always amazed him. He took pleasure in making you feel good, in getting you to expel his name in a myriad of whimpers and moans.

You bit down on your bottom lip, absently leaning forward, closer to Luke as the pace of his fingers increased. They were brushing against your g-spot, curling to make your body spasm with every shift of his wrist, and the fact that he was still working your clit was bringing you closer and closer to the edge with every passing second.

But what you were aware of the most was Luke’s static glare, the way that he was watching your every move, the way that your body would writhe and your eyes would screw shut. He was so entranced by how you looked like this, your skin virtually glowing from the moonlight shining in through his truck. His scent was surrounding you and you could feel him everywhere, even more so when he leaned forward, pressing his lips to the hollow of your throat.

You whimpered as you felt him suck a lovebite into your skin, his teeth grazing over the flourishing bruise, followed by his tongue, as if he was nursing the area. You whimpered, your back arching as he moved upward, facial hair tickling you as he kissed at your neck again, slowing the pace of his fingers. You whined as time seemed to slow down around you, coinciding with the pace of his every move, with the slow, torturous pleasure that came from the sensation of his mouth on your neck.

And then he pulled back just a fraction of an inch, just enough so that he could speak against your skin. “Sound so sweet, baby girl.” He murmured. You could practically feel his words against your neck, able to make out every single syllable he uttered down to the minute shape of his lips as they moved. You shivered at the sound of his voice and how it outpoured smoothly, like velvet, like honey.

You felt your back arch even more as he sucked another hickey just below your ear, lips moving up to ghost over your jaw before he was hovering over you, watching the way you started to shake. You could feel his knuckles curling more deliberately, his actions more pointed as he became determined to bring you over the edge.

You were close - the both of you could feel it in the way your arms shot out to bring him closer to you, one of your hands curling around the nape of his neck, fingers entangling themselves in his hair. Your foreheads bumped against one another as you moaned, but Luke quickly suppressed the exaggerated noise by kissing you passionately, his tongue swiping against yours in one swift motion.

And you were losing it. You could feel your body grow hot all over, a feverish warmth that lit your skin on fire. Luke held you closely as you cried out his name euphorically, your eyes shooting open as your lips brushed against his while his fingers worked you, your body squirming uncontrollably. You couldn’t help yourself - the intensity of the pleasure was getting the best of you, overtaking you and clouding your mind for a few blissful seconds.

But then you were brought back to yourself, a certain silence thickening in the surrounding air. The only audible sound was the truck’s stereo and its static hum in the background, overshadowed by your heavy breaths and the way they fanned over Luke’s face as he studied you with his bottom lip taken between his teeth.

“You drive me insane.” He whispered quietly, as if it was a secret that he was confessing within the darkness that you two shared. His confession was followed by a kiss, his lips melting against yours fluidly, slowly, as if the both of you had suddenly became overtired. But then he pulled back, pushing your hair out of your face, knuckles brushing over your cheek affectionately. “Wanna feel you all over me.”

You were still shaking from your orgasm, but you found the strength to nod your head, to run your fingers through Luke’s hair and push it off of his forehead. “It’s our last night together,” you breathed out. “Don’t let me forget it.”

Your words spurred Luke on. He chuckled lowly, the sound rumbling low in his chest. His smirk was contagious, the way that it twitched his lips and made them curve upward on the ends only, exposing only a single dimple and the mischievous glint that you had found in his eyes many times. The mood was lifting and you could sense it.

His hands were back on you in a matter of no time, memorizing your body and its curves and its edges. His touch was soft and tentative, and you knew just how badly he wanted to take you home back to his and spend days on end in his bedroom by the beach together, but this moment was all you had left. It was bittersweet, just as you had predicted.

Luke nudged you so that you were standing, your head level with the roof of his truck as you were stationed between his parted legs. He shoved your shorts and underwear down your legs the rest of the way, then stilled completely once you reached out to undo his belt buckle and begin to rid him of his jeans.

They were tight, and there was a short moment of struggle, but he eventually got them down his legs, leaving him in a pair of briefs that clung tightly to his thighs. You could see every inch of his erection and how it was straining against the black material, how Luke’s breathing had increased to the point where his chest was rising and falling rapidly. You decided to pull at the hem of his tank top, to lift it up and over his head so that your eyes could drag down his torso, over his smooth pale skin.

You were back in his lap almost instantly, noting the way Luke swallowed thickly as you looked at him from beneath your eyelashes. Your faces were level now, almost touching as you ran your hands down his abdomen, feeling it clench from your mere touch.

“I’ll miss you too, Luke,” you found yourself admitting. “A lot more than you think I will.”

He only nodded, unsure of how to reply. He was too distracted by the sight of your bare body on display before him, too distracted by the feeling of your fingertips tracing the straight outline of the waistband to his briefs. You were teasing him, but only because you knew he liked it. You had learned almost everything there was to know about his body, knew all of his weaknesses, what he enjoyed and what made him sweat.

And with that realization, you also discovered that you would miss knowing everything about Luke. You would miss the time spent with him and you would miss how natural it was, how easy it all was. You were going to miss him more than you had initially anticipated, and that was what scared you - that maybe things were changing within this very moment.

You urged the thoughts out of your head as you leaned forward and pressed your lips to Luke’s, feeling him practically let out a sigh of relief because you had finally kissed him again. He craved tasting you, feeling your tongue move against his in the alluring way that it usually did. He could spend hours with you like this, if it were up to him. Unfortunately, it wasn’t, and that sad fact was starting to sink in.

Slowly, you dipped your hand beneath the waistband of his briefs, wrapping your grasp around the base of his erection. He was almost throbbing from the frustration, his voice wavering as he murmured, “Oh, fuck, baby.”

He stopped kissing you completely as his jaw went slack once you began to stroke his length. You watched him the way that he had watched you - with admiration, closely studying the way he reacted to your every maneuver. He would whimper quietly when you swiped your thumb over his tip, spreading the bead of precum that had leaked. His eyebrows drew together immediately as you gripped his shaft tighter, twisting your fist around him, your other hand continuously running your fingers through his disheveled hair.

“You make me f-feel so good,” Luke choked out, hips bucking upward into your fist absently.

You shushed him, soothing him as he moved to grip the driver’s seats armrests. His knuckles turned white from how harshly he was holding onto them, completely overwhelmed by your touch, by your quiet voice as you observed him pant.

But Luke was quickly nudging your hand away, shaking his head and mumbling something to himself under his breath. He opened his eyes to look at you again, lips parting before he muttered out, “Need you, all right?”

“Need you, too.” You whispered in reply. You didn’t have to think before you spoke. The words spilled from your tongue effortlessly.

Then Luke was fumbling around for his wallet, flipping open the leather before reaching into one of its pockets so that he could pull out a condom. You watched with hooded eyes as he ripped open the foil, sparing a passing glance at you before he was nudging you out of his lap only slightly so that he could roll the latex over his length. His bottom lip was between his teeth as he did so, and then he was gazing at you again, pulling you back to him.

He reconnected his lips to yours briefly before you were adjusting yourself above him, lowering your lower half down onto his length. You moved slowly, your muscles tightening as you sucked in a sharp breath at the sensation, your walls clenching around Luke’s girth familiarly.

He sighed out immediately, relieved as his arms moved to wrap around your frame, almost in a hug. He was holding you close to him so that your chests were flush against one another, skin sticky. You could feel the cool metal of his necklace pressed against your skin as you steadied yourself on his shoulders, bottoming out completely until he was so deep inside of you that you whined, eyes rolling back.

“Okay, baby?” Luke asked you, his lips at your ear.

“Yeah,” you muttered quietly. “Feels so good.”

Luke didn’t say anything. He was already too inundated in your body, feeling the way your walls were clenched around him as you pulled yourself up, then lowered down again as you started to develop a rhythm. Your body was moving in synchronization with Luke’s - his hips would raise as yours would fall so that he was practically fucking up into you from beneath, mouth brushing against your ear as his grip rested on the curvature of your waist.

You were already shaking from the pleasure. Luke was beginning to take control, noting the way that you were too distracted by the sensation to continue moving. He was thrusting up into you, grunting softly, the noises sounding so pretty as they filled up the silence of his truck. You wanted to hear them again and again and again, and that thought scared you. You were so stuck on leaving this summer behind, but right in this moment, you never wanted to leave. You wanted to stay.

Your fingernails dug into the skin of Luke’s shoulder as you clenched your teeth, feeling the way his tip hit your g-spot every time he angled his hips forward. Luke was moving quickly, his pace quickening in correlation with his breaths. You could feel them fanning over your skin, hot and ragged, stopping short only when he would grunt in satisfaction.

He pulled back, loosening his grip on you so that he could actually look you in the eye, and you couldn’t tear your gaze away. You were hypnotized by the endless blue and the way that he was staring at you with such adoration, you felt your heart skip a beat. No one had ever looked at you so earnestly, so lovingly. For the first time in your life, you knew what it felt like to be loved.

And you didn’t feel so guilty anymore.

Subconsciously, you leaned forward and kissed him as fiercely as you could, as if you wanted to communicate what words couldn’t. You were so overwhelmed by the pleasure that you felt, but they were only emphasized once they fell into correlation with what was going on in your mind. You felt feather-light, like you were floating on cloud nine, and the only thing that was holding you to Earth was Luke’s gentle grasp on your waist.

His tongue traced the ample outline of your bottom lip, acutely and precisely, as if he was trying to put his all into kissing you as well. You were attempting to stop from whining, your body trembling as he thrusted in and out of you with more concentration. Luke bit down on your lip, pulling back until he released it, eyelids fluttering open so that he could meet your stare again.

You wanted to open your mouth, to say something, anything - even if it was just his name in a simple whimper, but your voice was caught in your throat as you felt yourself get lost in the pleasure. You could barely think coherently because of how good everything felt, how Luke’s hands were now snaking away from your waist and up over your ribcage, skimming over your breasts until he was cupping your face.

“Gonna lay you down,” Luke murmured, his voice strained.

You could only nod. You were unable to speak, your eyelids screwing shut as he shifted the two of you so that you were laying down across the truck’s narrow seat, Luke’s tall stature hovering over you. His touch slid down from your chest to your thighs again, parting them even more as he gazed down at your body, unable to fathom that this would be the last time he was going to see you like this.

Your back arched as he began to move again, reigniting the fire that had already built up. A thin sheen of sweat was formulating on Luke’s forehead, his hair sticking to his skin in damp strands. His pale chest was flushed pink and the vein in his neck was protruding as he clenched his teeth, moving his hips forward methodically.

You could feel your muscles begin to tense, your toes curling as your hands frantically searched for something to grab onto. Luke took note of this and reached down, taking both of your hands in his, interlocking your fingers and squeezing. He was breathless, panting as he gazed down at you, the silver antler necklace hanging from his chest in the darkness between you.

“I’m so close, baby,” he admitted, his tenor gravelly, words emitting low from his throat. “Wait it out for me. Want you to cum with me, all right? That okay, baby?”

You nodded rigorously, feeling Luke’s pace begin to slow as his hips started to stutter. Your every sense was on edge, tingling as you felt your high approach you. You squeezed Luke’s hands until your knuckles went white, until you were moaning so loudly that your own voice sounded foreign to your ears.

Luke was in the same condition, blinking slowly as he thrusted in and out of you deeply, making you feel every inch of him with each move he made. He was losing it, his words coming out in low whispers, incoherent and unable to comprehend. You weren’t surprised when he silenced himself by leaning down to leave you a lingering kiss, thrusting forward one final time before speaking against your lips. “I love you,” he mumbled quietly. “Just lie to me.”

And you were trembling, your mind completely erratic and hectic as the pleasure became overbearing. But there was something you wanted to say - you wanted to test the words out on your lips, to see how they tasted, how they would feel against Luke’s tongue, so you said it. You let the three words slip into the air between the two of you, evaporating, but they would never be forgotten.

You told Luke you loved him.

And you weren’t sure if he heard. Part of you thought maybe you just imagined saying it before you were brought to the edge, your hands squeezing Luke’s tightly as the both of you reached your high at the same time, a mess of tangled limbs and soft whimpers in the quiet cab of his truck. But the other part of you was sure that you had confessed your feelings - the ones that you had pushed aside for the entire summer.

Three days went by before Olivia died. She had been playing at her house when the ball bounced into the road and she followed after it. Calum didn’t quite understand the concept of death yet at only five years old. But he knew she wasn’t coming back. And that maybe what he felt three days prior had something to do with it.

 He felt it again at twelve years old. He stepped off the plane with his parents and sister and onto New Zealand turf. They had been going to visit his grandpa who had come down with some kind of illness. His parents said it wasn’t serious, but they still wanted to see him since he was all alone in the hospital.

 The moment Calum stepped through the doorway and saw his grandpa lying in the hospital bed, he felt the pain envelope his heart. Olivia flashed through his mind like the pain in his chest. He took two steps backwards into his sister as he rushed to catch his breath.

 Mali Koa pushed him forward, taking the seat beside her parents next to the bed. Calum couldn’t look at his grandpa for the majority of time he was there. And when he stood in front of his casket at the funeral just a week later, Calum couldn’t bare to look at him either.

 He felt like he was responsible, even though there was nothing he could do to stop his grandpa from dying in his sleep.

 It was only after Calum turned seventeen that he started feeling it all the time. On the train on the way to school, his eyes would glaze over a random stranger and he’d feel his heart clench. He knew the stranger would be dead soon. Walking down the street, he sometimes felt it more than once. He tried to ignore the stabbing pains – he didn’t know these people, yet he knew they would be dead before Monday hit.

 He felt alone in the world of life and death. He didn’t know why he could feel things others couldn’t. He didn’t know why he was cursed with this burden. He closed his eyes even thinking about the day he looked at his mom and would feel the familiar pain – his dad, his sister. Anyone he loved, he’d know when they’d be dead before he could blink.

 He felt alone in the world of life and death until he met her. He had made a habit of watching his feet when he walked anywhere. The less people he saw, the less of a chance there would be to feel the crippling pain in his heart. There was only so much he could take at the tender age of twenty.

 But as it was fate, as he was passing the café, someone had bumped into him, throwing off his balance. “Watch where you’re going,” they had chided him as they passed. Calum regained his balanced, his gaze washing over a table that was situation outside of the coffee shop.

 A single girl was sat at a table, a half-full cup of coffee situated in front of her. Calum thought she was beautiful, and he was thankful that no pain came upon setting eyes on her. He watched as a pair of girls crossed his path, one girl telling a wild story.

 The girl sitting at the table stiffened, her eyes glued to the pair of girls that had passed. Calum looked back to the girls, watching them disappear into the crowd walking on the sidewalk and then back to the girl at the coffee house.

 Somehow, he got the feeling that she wasn’t as normal as she appeared. He knew that look for he wore it many times when he felt someone else’s death. His feet were moving even before he realized it, and he was sitting in front of her before he could even stop himself.

 She looked at him curiously, arching a brow in question though no words had come out of her mouth. Calum licked his dry lips, “you feel it too?”

 -

 She could always tell when someone was lying. By the time the lie was off their tongue, stinging chills would ripple through her body, racing up her arms and into her chest – a warning sign. At first, she hated it. She knew that practically everyone lied, and sometimes, she wouldn’t be worth the truth.

 She felt alone in a world of truth and lies. “I love you,” she had been told, her body told her otherwise.

 She found it difficult to trust people, to build relationships with people when she knew that they lied about the simplest things. She didn’t understand why people needed to lie about what they had for breakfast, or how their night out went. She found it difficult to hold conversations when she knew she could be faced with lies.

 She felt alone in a world of truth and lies until she had met Calum. He had sat down across from her despite him being a complete stranger. And then he asked a question she thought she’d never hear anyone ask – ‘you feel it too?’

 A smile spread across her face upon hearing the simple question – she wasn’t so alone after all. But upon getting to know each other a little more, they found they didn’t exactly feel the same thing after all. But Calum wasn’t as normal as he appeared to be.

 She found that he could feel death. That he could tell when other people were going to die. That he could feel their pain in his heart, and know that by the end of the week they would be dead. She knew he wasn’t lying, for her body sung with a warm glow, free of any electrifying zaps telling her that he wasn’t.

 It felt nice to know that, to Calum, she was worth the truth even five minutes after meeting. So she told him her own story, of how she could tell that people were lying to her. Calum even told her two truths and a lie, things that she had no way of knowing, but she still picked the lie out even before he was finished telling it.

 He hadn’t said anything, and neither did she. But together they felt it – a sense of belonging.

 They had made it a daily occurrence of meeting at the coffee shop, sitting at the same table where they first met. “Did you feel it today?” She’d ask, watching as Calum sifted through the daily newspaper.

 He’d sullenly nod, his dark eyes meeting hers. She liked to think of his eyes as a dark abyss full of unspoken secrets – human eyes that had seen far too much for someone so young.

 And then he was pointing. His finger had landed on a picture of an old man smiling at the camera. It was then that she realized what page he was on. It was the obituaries. “I felt him last week. It was just a small glance, but it cut straight through my heart.”

 “What was his name?” She asked. She had no idea Calum tortured himself this way, looking through the obituaries to see the people he saw – felt, to see how they ultimately died.

 “Lester Smith,” Calum said, still staring down at the page. His eyes were moving slowly over the photos of the elderly. To her surprise, his eyes were devoid of any pity. Instead they were just black holes, to emotion swirling in the dark color of his iris.

 He closed the newspaper, a random article on the front page about a new mall opening up downtown.

 “Why do you do this to yourself, Calum?” She questioned, reaching across the small table to grab at his hand. “Why do you put yourself through more pain?” She asked, her voice small.

 Calum squeezed her hand, his eyes meeting hers. “I just need to know, okay?” He said. “I need to know how they died. I don’t know what it is, but I need to see their faces and know how they died. The pain… the pain doesn’t fully go away until I know.”

 He was chewing on his bottom lip, his eyes dark storm clouds that were brewing silently.

 “Calum…” She started, but he stopped her.

 “Don’t,” he said. “Don’t pity me now. You never have, and this doesn’t change things. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” He said, getting up but leaving the newspaper behind. He didn’t leave time for her to answer before he was stalking away, leaving her with his name on her lips.

 -

 She was waiting in her usual spot the next day. She had ordered her coffee, and one for Calum even though he usually didn’t drink more than a few sips. She had texted him earlier, telling him that she got here a few minutes earlier than she expected. He responded with a single word, and it left her wanting more.

 She hated that she always shut people out. She hated that she was the one person who knew him fully, and he still couldn’t be open with her. He wasn’t lying, but he wasn’t telling the full truth either.

 It was minutes later that Calum had showed up, a maroon beanie pulled over his usually curly hair. Despite the new accessory, something else was different about him. He took his usual seat, the daily newspaper clutched in his hands to the point where his fingers were ghostly white – the paper crumpled at sharp angles and distorting the words printed on the surface.

 “Calum?” She asked. She could tell something was wrong. “Did you feel it again?” He had the look in his eyes, the hopeless, empty look when he felt someone’s death as if he were drowning within himself.

 Calum only stared at her, his fingers still assaulting the newspaper.

 “You’re going to live a long, full life, okay?” He asked, his voice seemingly deeper than its usual tenor.

 Before he was even finished, her body was alive with electric stings that raced through her arms. The static rippled through her shoulders and pierced her heart with a pang.

 He was lying.

 -

 Calum tried to convince himself that what he felt was wrong – a lie. But the moment he laid eyes on her, the pain was erupting in his heart, shredding it to pieces as he stumbled over his own feet. His body never lied.

 And when she didn’t show up the next day for their regular coffee, he knew his body had been right.

 Calum still sat at the table that he met her at, the newspaper spread out in front of him, her face staring up at him in various shades of gray. Her name was printed beside her picture. It had been an aneurysm; it ruptured while she was sleeping.

 He had hoped by telling her that she’d live a long life he’d change the course of her fate, but to no avail. He didn’t go to the funeral; he couldn’t handle the pain that came along with it.

 He thought the pain would go away when he figured out how she died like it did for everyone else he felt, but the ache in his heart remained. And it always would for as long as he lived. It was a silent reminder of the girl who felt things that others couldn’t.

She had worked all day, working her feet until the point where they ached to be relieved. At the stroke of 9 o’clock, her shift ended and she drove to the grocery store down the road from her work. Despite the temporary break for her feet, she dragged herself from the car and into the supermarket, grabbing a cart on her way in.

  In the late hour, there weren’t many patrons in the store, nor employees, just the bare minimum. She weaved through the aisles, grabbing what she needed while ignoring the stabbing pains in her feet. She grabbed a bag of chips, tossing it into the cart and moved on.

 She turned into the new aisle, spotting someone else at the far end near the pop tarts. Her eyes washed over him, taking in all the details of him. He seemed like the typical kind of guy that would be in a supermarket this late at night looking at pop tarts.

 His hair was dyed a bright blue, his bangs falling into his eyes while the back was almost shaved. He wore a dark zip-up hoodie, his hands shoved deep into the pockets. And his legs were clad in black skinny jeans that were tucked into combat boots.

 She couldn’t help but find him attractive.

 She blushed, though his gaze hadn’t wavered from the breakfast food he was looking at. She grabbed her package of bagels, tossing it in beside the chips. And she moved forward, eyes still glued to the boy who was reaching forward, finally deciding on a box of blueberry pop tarts that conveniently matched his hair.

 She hated how she always fell in love with strangers. It was one of her many bad habits, right alongside waiting until all her dishes were dirty to wash them.

 She was just about to pass him when their world plunged into darkness. She let out a small scream, along with a few other people in the store. She heard glass shatter somewhere across the building, the shards bouncing and scattering with an eerie crash.

 She clutched her shopping cart tightly, her knuckles surely turning a ghostly white. The power surged again, trying to turn back on, flashing momentarily. All she saw was a glimpse of green eyes before everything went dark again.

 “Oh my god,” she muttered to herself. She couldn’t ignore the feeling in the pit of her stomach that something was wrong. The weather outside was fine. It wasn’t raining hard, and there wasn’t even a slight breeze.

 She pushed her hair out of her face, blinking hard but it was still dark.

 Suddenly, they heard someone trying to pry the supermarket doors open. She hated the idea of being trapped. But at least it was somewhere where they’d never run out of food. Then screams pierced the air. She felt it in her chest, the screams of pain and anguish, none of fear of the dark.

 And then she felt something tugging on her hand. She blinked again, trying to adjust to the light, but everything was still doused in darkness. She tried to pull back, but the person kept their grip. “C’mon,” the voice urged.

 She could only match the voice to the guy who was scouting out their favorite pop tart flavor. He was standing beside her anyway.

 She let him pull her along, abandoning her shopping cart and his box of pop tarts discarded on the floor. His grip was firm on hers as they moved forward. She didn’t know why she trusted him, but she did.

 As they neared the front of the store, the light became a little better. She could see shapes, the outline of the cash registers and cars outside through the window – people ambling towards the grocery store.

 “Shit,” the stranger swore, his hand gripping hers even tighter now. She was about to ask what was wrong when she heard it. It was an awful noise, like someone who never learned any manners was eating a whole feast. Tearing of flesh and the gurgles of blood.

 She felt her own blood run cold.

 She looked towards the door, where it was open a crack, letting a small stream of moonlight illuminate the entryway. There was a figure hunched over another, she didn’t have to see it to know what it was. She was about to scream when she felt another hand cover her mouth to muffle the noise.

 It was the guy holding her hand. She met his eyes, now dark in the low light. But she found no trace of fear. He shook his head, hoping she’d stay quiet. And she nodding, understanding. Whatever that… thing was, hadn’t heard them yet.

 The stranger let his hand fall from her mouth, pressing his finger to his own lips and she nodded again. “This way,” he whispered. He tugged on her hand again and they crept along the front of the store. They knew that there were other people in the store, but they didn’t know if they were anything like that monster.

 Finally, they had made it to the other entrance. Though, since the power had gone off, the door wasn’t going to open easy since it usually opened with a motion detector. The stranger dropped her hand, as he tried to pry the door open. He grunted lowly as he tried to pull the two panels apart.

 “Give me a hand?” He asked. She moved forward, finding his hands and placing hers beside his. She could feel that he had already inched the door open a little, he just needed an extra push so they could both slip through.

 She tugged with all she had, his grunts still right beside her ear. She braced her foot against the other door panel, kicking it and hoping that it would help. After a few more seconds, the door seemed to give way and finally open to where they could fit through.

 The stranger’s hand found hers again and then they were running. She could finally see better now that they were outside. “Where did all these people come from?” She yelled even though he was right beside her, his hand still in hers.

 “Shh!” He exclaimed, looking back to her slightly, but mainly watching where he was going.  “I’ve played enough video games to know what this means, though I never actually thought this would ever happen,” he shook his head.

 “What?” She asked. “You think this is the zombie apocalypse?” She put two and two together. There was no way this could be happening. This was only supposed to belong in movies, television shows and books, not real life. She wasn’t cut out for this.

 “No thinking, I know,” the stranger said, pointing with his free hand to the stray people in the parking lot. “Know any sane adults that would act like that?” He asked.

 She followed his gaze, watching as the people moved slowly, their feet dragging as they went, their heads cocked to the side. She hoped they couldn’t go any faster if the guy was right.

 She looked back to the guy, realizing that they had already passed her car. “Where are we going? My car is back there,” she said, tugging at her hand but he kept his hold. He tried to keep her moving, but she held her ground.

 “We gotta get out of here and to somewhere where it’s less populated. At least for the time being,” the stranger said. “And while the roads are still relatively clear,” he said pulling at her hand again. “C’mon!” He urged, looking towards the end of the parking lot.

 “Wait,” she said. “What’s your name?”

 “Its’ Michael,” the boy revealed. “Now c’mon!” It was finally then that she saw a flash of panic in the stranger’s eyes as he looked past her. Something told her to not look back and listen to him. She nodded, running alongside him to a black pick up truck in one of the last spots.

 He let go of her hand as they went their separate ways to get into the truck. She threw open the door, sliding inside and slamming the door shut. Michael inserted the key into the ignition, turning it and the truck roared to life.

 Michael quickly pulled out of his space and onto the deserted road. She couldn’t help but think of all the people sleeping in their beds that would be dead by morning. She squeezed her eyes at the thought of it. And they popped open at the sound of Michael quickly talking into his cellphone.

 “Luke!” He exclaimed, his phone sandwiched between his head and his arm as he drove, the truck thunderous around them as he accelerated. So much for the law. “Its time, buddy! Everything you’ve conspired about, it’s happening.” There was a pause as Luke spoke to him. “Yeah. I’m already one my way. We’ve got a tagalong… It’s a long story, just have everything ready.”

 Without a goodbye, Michael hung up the phone, tossing it into the backseat of the truck. “Who’s Luke?” She asked, the curiosity getting the better of her. But given the situation, she felt obligated to know everything if it meant she’d stay alive longer.

 “My best friend,” Michael answered, glancing at her from the corner of his eye. “He had a weird obsession with the zombie apocalypse, and he started getting things ready for the end of the world. I always thought he was crazy… until now,” he shrugged.

 She nodded slowly. Michael had some interesting friends. This was only one, but she had the feeling Luke wasn’t the only less than normal friend Michael kept around him.

 “Anyway,” Michael continued. “Luke had this evacuation plan of sorts,” he explained. “And he made sure we knew it in case something were to happen. Needless to say I never really paid attention to it before, but I still knew it. Thank God Luke never shuts up.”

 Under normal circumstances, she probably would have laughed.

 “I’m Scarlett, by the way,” she said, breaking the small silence between them.

 “I’m gonna call you Scar,” Michael said, looking at her for a second then focusing back on the road. “Hope you don’t mind. I’m not good with long names. Luke is long enough. Calum I call Cal. And Ashton I call Ash. I don’t know what it is, I just like shorter versions of names.”

 “But you call yourself Michael,” Scarlett pointed out.

 “Mike sounds like an old person name,” Michael shrugged, a smile pulling on his lips.

 Suddenly, another car pulled onto the road, swerving past them and speeding away. Michael and Scarlett watched as the car disappeared into the distance. “Seems like the news is spreading,” Michael said, eyeing his passenger.

 Scarlett nodded.

 Michael turned without his signal, pulling into an open driveway. “Luke’s house?” Scarlett guessed with a raised eyebrow.

 Michael nodded, putting the truck in park and throwing open his door just as a blonde boy was darting out of the house, his arms filled with supplies. He stumbled a little, a bottle of water falling from his arms and bouncing down the steps. Scarlett followed suit, getting out of the truck, and following Michael up towards the porch.

 “I told you so!” He exclaimed, his bright blue eyes alive with adrenaline. Michael rolled his eyes, picking up the fallen water bottle and placing it back where it belonged.

 “I don’t need your ‘welcome to the end of the world’ speech you’ve been preparing for the last two years,” Michael said, striding past him and up the stairs. “We need to get the stuff and get out. Meet Scar.” With that said, Michael vanished inside the house, leaving Scarlett alone with Luke.

They had met by chance. Lana had been walking home from class when she ran into him, quite literally. He had escaped from the local Starbucks, not watching where he was going when he knocked into her. He steadied her, hands gripping her arms to keep her on her feet.

 And they both swore that when their eyes connected, it was all downhill from there.

 Luke had asked for her number, and Lana obliged. She had heard of him before, recognized him from a few of the awards shows she’s watched where him and his band had performed. She couldn’t believe that he picked her. But he had, spending most of his free time with her when he wasn’t sleeping or relaxing.

 With her, it was easy. He wasn’t the rockstar that everyone knew or expected. He could be himself – his real self that rarely anybody got to see.

 Lana was seeing him right now, his bright blue eyes staring at him through the screen of her MacBook. He was on the other side of the world, but when they skyped, it almost felt as if he was in the room with her.

 “So how’s the weather there?” Lana asked. It was still warm in California, but she knew in Australia the heat was worse.

 Luke pouted. “It’s too hot,” he whined. “I’ve gotten so used to cooler climates that I’ve forgotten what it’s like to live here,” he explained. Though, he really didn’t live there anymore. He was only there for two shows, and then he’d be in another country. Though, Lana loved knowing he was at least somewhere familiar.

 Despite that, she still wished she were with him. It was hard being away from him for such a long time. She knew what she was signing up for when she agreed to be his girlfriend, but she didn’t think it was going to be this hard.

 “Lana?” Luke asked, his brows creasing slightly in confusion. “Are you still there?” He asked, waving at the webcam. “I asked you a question.”

 “Sorry,” Lana apologized, biting her lip.

 “What’s wrong, babe?” He asked, his features instantly turning into concern. He hated knowing that something was wrong, and he wasn’t there to fix it. But he would try his best.

 Lana shook her head, fighting the urge to cry. He had only been on tour for two months – she didn’t want to burden him for the rest of the tour – especially when there was nothing that he could do.

 “I just miss you, that’s all,” Lana told him, wiping away a tear that managed to escape. “I thought I could handle being away from you for so long, but I’m finding it to be much harder than I expected.”

 “Baby,” Luke almost sighed, but it came out as more of a whisper. “We can get through this. We can keep our love alive, we’ll fight,” Luke said, his voice becoming stronger.

 Lana had never heard him say that word before. They had been dating all of four months and the word had never come up before. It ignited something deep within her.

 “Love?” She questioned, arching a perfect brow at him.

 Luke nodded surely. “I love you,” Luke confirmed. “And we can get through this, I promise you.”

 “But I can’t be what you want. I can’t be with you all the time. And it’s so hard being away from you,” Lana sniffled, a new wave of tears overcoming her. She blinked them away, Luke’s face still warbled through bleary eyes.

 “You’re everything I want, Lana,” Luke shook his head. “Maybe I can fly you out to one of the shows soon. Just don’t give up on this. I’ve never felt this way about someone before,” Luke said, biting at his own lip, his teeth grazing the skin beside his lip ring.

 “You know I can’t do that, Luke,” Lana almost sighed. “I’m in school, I’m drowning in work and I can’t take off to see one of your shows even if that’s what I want. And that is what I want. But I just can’t do it right now.”

 Luke stayed silent for a moment, his chest rising and falling with slow breaths. Lana watched him through the computer screen as he licked his lips and adjusted the way he was sitting so he was closer to the screen now – his face almost filling it all up.

 “Don’t give up on us,” Luke pleaded. “We can meet in the middle? I can come to you while you’re in school, and when you’re off, you’ll come to me.”

 “But you’re on tour, Luke,” Lana reminded him. “You can’t just abandon shows, you would disappoint your fans,” she said. Lana always knew that his fans would be more important than her.

 “We’ll figure this out, Lana,” he said, his voice dripping in desperation as if he was saving ‘I love you’ for the last time. It might as well have been.

 Lana stayed quiet, nibbling on the inside of her lip. “I don’t know, Luke,” she broke the silence. “I just need to think about this,” she continued, closing her laptop without letting Luke say goodbye. That would have just made this all that much harder.

 She pushed the computer off her lap, sliding down farther underneath her blankets, pulling them up over her head. Her bed was cold, and it only reminded her that much more of the vacant space beside her.

 -

 Lana awoke to a crashing sound. She jolted upwards, finding someone falling through her bedroom window, knocking over one of her jewelry stands from her dresser. “Shit,” the intruder swore, only his voice was a familiar one, a very familiar accented one.

 “Luke?” Lana asked, blinking her eyes hard to get rid of the sleep that plagued them. “What are you doing here? You’re supposed to be in Australia.” None of this made sense – to how Luke was standing in her bedroom when he was supposed to be on the other side of the world, to how it felt like she fell asleep two seconds ago, yet here he was.

 “No,” he answered. “I’m supposed to be right here.” He grabbed at Lana’s hand; his fingers ice cold against hers as he pulled her free from the confines of her bed. He kept his fingers intertwined with hers as he led her to her window.

 “What are you doing?” She asked, blinking up at him. His eyes were dark in the midnight light, but somehow still sparkling.

 “Making it through the night,” Luke murmured as he grabbed at her other hand. He placed it on his shoulder, his hand finding her hip and pulling her close. “Keeping our love alive. You know I’d do anything for you.”

 Luke started swaying back and forth, the moonlight washing over his face as they danced. Lana opened her mouth to speak, but she had no words to say. She soaked up the moment, breathing in his trademark scent – firewood and mint. It was an odd combination, but it was one of her favorites. It was Luke. It was home.

 They danced for a few more moments, Lana feeling more awake and alive with each passing minute. A breeze blew through her open window, disturbing the curtains, drawing both of their attention to the star spotted sky outside.

 “All the stars are aligned,” Luke murmured, the corner of his mouth turning up as he looked at her.

 Lana opened her mouth to speak, but all that came out was a gasp. She jolted awake again, sunlight meeting her eyes. Her window was closed, her jewelry stand still standing strong on her dresser. The bed beside her was still empty.