instafamous ✩ lrh [DISCONTINUED]

18. do you like this?

Instafamous
18. do you like this?

✖️

I wake up the next morning in a cocoon of blankets, pillows, and Luke's arms; on the couch of his living room, with the TV on standby right on front of us. There's an empty pizza box on the table, and popcorn all over the floor.

To some, it might just look like a messy night in. But to me, it's the aftermath of one of the best nights I've ever had in my life; no doubt about it.

Sighing happily to myself, I get up, being careful not to wake him with the littlest movement I make.

After doing my best to brush the popcorn crumbs off of the rug, I dump them into the pizza box before taking the whole thing, walking into the kitchen, and shoving it in the bin.

The sun outside is bright, and it creates little reflections on the intricate marbled detail of the island. I pick up on this now because I didn't have the time to admire it last night.

The metal handles gleam at me as I yawn, suddenly making this whole situation seem surreal and straight out of a fairytale picture book. Not that I'm complaining.

The silence gives me some time to think, and I feel like I haven't had a whole lot of those lately. These past couple of days have been nothing but important events in my life taking place; the time to sit and think and contemplate just hasn't been made readily available to me.

It's no surprise that I've ditched my plan altogether of getting Luke to leave me alone- this is a fact. I think I ditched it as soon as I heard his voice in real life. Again, Im really not complaining.

The best thing to do right now would be to let things go, and see where that takes me; I've been free-falling the entirety of my life, anyway. I'm pretty sure I'm capable of handling this one, too.

And if I find out in the end that I'm not, if I'm not cut out to deal with this, then it's a lesson well learned. Only I'm hoping, and practically praying, for things to work out; I like Luke, I really do. I just need to know as to what extent. And I just hope that he can feel the same way about me.

Shaking my head, I wash my hands quickly to rid them of crumbs, before leaning against the sink and looking out of the window. Luke's terrace stretches from the living room to the sliding doors of the kitchen, allowing a perfect breeze to enter all corners of the house if one's left open.

Instead of walking out, however, I decide to go back in.

I get to the living room and Luke's sprawled out across the couch, rubbing his eyes tiredly before squinting in my direction in the sunlight. He sees me, and his lips turn upwards.

"Morning," I smile, walking towards one of the blinds and cracking it the slightest bit open.

"Morning, babe." he rasps, before attempting to sit up. His shoulders are so broad, and he's so tall, that he doesn't have to do much. "What time is it?"

"Eight," I say, sitting next to him on the other side of the couch.

I don't know why I'm surprised when he reaches forward, snakes his arms around my waist, and pulls me in towards him; resting my frame comfortably between his legs.