Like fire and gasoline, something that should never be combined, but the temptation to witness the massive explosion was too great to resist occasionally letting a few drops fall into the flame.

One might think that the constant back and forth would eventually get on your nerves, but after all these months, you’re still exactly where you started. In pure confusion and a simultaneous addiction that simply wouldn’t go away.

Luke didn’t understand exactly what had driven you both into this situation, but god, he certainly didn’t want it to end. No matter how often you ignored him in public or shot him disapproving looks—ones very similar to his own—he knew that in the end, you’d inevitably end up back in each other’s arms, with no one suspecting a thing. Your sharp comments would fade into tired yawns as he traced his fingers along your spine, while you insisted you wouldn’t stay over again. So stubborn. He’d love to call you a liar, but he’d had enough of your daytime arguments; not in the mood to continue them in the cozy warmth of his bed —not when he could finally fall asleep next to you again.

But once again the night ended too soon when your clumsy attempt to slip out of his bed to disappear before sunrise failed. “There’s something called 'saying goodbye', love,” he murmured, forcing himself out of his disturbed sleep and sitting up as you were already getting dressed. Your eyes shortly roamed over his body, the shift of the blanket definitely making you hesitate for a second. He grinned. So easy. “You don’t always have to leave so early, you know? At least let’s have breakfast together before you make me want to mix rat poison into your scrambled eggs.”