Luke had never seen you more excited. he had snuck the both of you out of the camp after securing tickets too your favourite authors book signing. he didn’t understand, he’d read a few chapters to try and relate so you could talk about it more— though she truly was just plain and old depraved artist. though— he’d never really enjoyed reading growing up.

the moment you guys arrived, he basically had to keep you on a leash— his hands always securing around your wait of his fingers wrapping around your arm to gently pull you back because every time he took your hand, it seemed to slip away as you excitedly began to wander. tried to wander. he was responsible for you now, he had taken you from camp he needed to get you back.

he waited in the line with you, watching you bounce around for a whole hour before you guys were finally at the front. too Luke, the old woman looked the definition of sour. as you began to babble away, Luke smiled fondly at you. though he couldn’t help being distracted by the urge to beat the old bat to a pulp as she didn’t even crack a smile.

her eyebrow was quirked as you confessed your interest in her writing, a silently judging look danced across her features that you were to thrilled to realise. eventually, when you stopped and held the book out her eyes narrowed. “right.” she grumbled and snatched the book from your hand, writing her signature in the front. “well you need to eat a bit more, don’t you.” she said, handing the book back without looking. “next!”

Luke saw it the moment it happened. the way you froze, the way your smile dropped, the way you physically recoiled. he hadn’t made any comments, not wanting to upset you further. but that night, when he walked back in from the bathroom and saw you in front of the mirror, your hand bunched up around the back of your shirt and making your flat stomach prominent his heart dropped instantly. “baby?” he asked softly, watching as you dropped your shirt and looked up like a caught baby dear. “what are you doing, sweet girl?”