Teaser for my latest Luke fic
January 12th 2020
It’s a universal idea that there are certain areas on earth
that feel as though reality is manipulated, and things aren’t as they should
usually be. Some of which include walking down the street at night and using a
different McDonald’s (than the go-to) at service stations, on long drives
across the country or state. Another popular twilight zone is a bathroom at a
party: where the music is muffled by the wood of the door, and you’re left
alone and still as people live to the highest of highs just one room away.
This is where you stood now, with your hands clasping the
cool porcelain of the sink rim, eyes focused on the reflection before you:
staring, as if challenging the girl you were observing. It was hard to believe
that that person was you, and that that was the person everyone saw every time
they talked to you or merely glanced in your direction. What was more
mind-blowing (or at least, it was for a tipsy person such as yourself) was that
this was what Luke saw on the rare occasions that you’d catch his eye. The
thought of the curly haired giant made your fingers tighten their grip,
knuckles slightly fading from pink to white, as you felt the sickening nausea
creep up on you once more. But you shook your head, almost violently, willing
to keep it together. It couldn’t be that difficult to do so, either, as you’d
been keeping it together around Luke for years now.
Let’s say that you had a crush on Luke the first time you met
him. You were young, as was he, which meant that your eighteen-year-old self
could easily conjure up a fantasy of which Luke was the focal point. Most
people had a crush on Luke (then and now), as he was simply the most charming
guy to ever walk the earth second to Young Leonardo Decaprio – who was, in your
eyes, unbeatably attractive in all aspects. Every time he laughed heads turned
and girls visibly swooned, and he added in the odd sarcastic quip here and
there that made you want to listen to his voice on a podcast as you tried to
fall asleep at night. He had a heart of gold, keeping a concerned eye on
someone who felt sickly or was slightly too high or drunk, which was
practically a torture weapon when this was combined with his devilishly
handsome looks. Luke reminded you of the glow off the pavement just after it
had finished raining, with the lamp light shimmering on it, reflecting the
patchy pattern of the leafy canopy of the tree above: artistic and individual.
This crush faded away. Well, actually, you forced yourself to
get over it because you weren’t going to do anything and he was mostly unaware
of your existence. Instead, you’d stare after him dreamily – like a girl in a
sappy rom-com – as he talked with his friends and glowed in his corner of the
planet, with you dawdling about confused and dazed from one thing to the next.
Luke then vanished for a while, spending most of his time in the studio and on
tours most likely, so you found the idea of him a pipe dream. He was nothing
more than a whirlwind crush built off of a daydream.
And then you reunited. Tonight, to be precise.