29. english love affair.

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"You did what?!"

I wince, moving away from Dylan as Chase instinctively wraps his long arms around me, pulling me into a hug.

"I said, I shov-"

"You told him to suck a dick?!" his voice is higher, higher than it's ever been, and I can't help but feel as if I've just entered a word where SnapChat filter voices have become a reality.

"Well, what else was she supposed to do?" Chase retaliates, sticking up for me in the best way possible as his hand rubs my back soothingly, "You heard it yourself, baby. The guy was being a creep!"

"Maybe she just took it the wrong way," Dylan says, shaking his head. "You know what, no. Let's forget about your weirdo teacher for now,"

"Thank fuc-"

"Beth."

"Oh, fuc-"

"What the hell did that girl do to make you put her in the infirmary?" he narrows his gaze at me.

"I told you already. She took my ph-"

"Oh, please."

"Are you going to let me finish?" I glare at him.

"Maybe she was just being friendly-"

"She's done a lot more things than that, Dyl. Believe me," I scowl, in turn sitting up and feeling Chase's arms fall limp, "I can't believe you think I'm lying,"

"I don't think you're lying. Exaggerating the truth, maybe," he says, in a calm tone, "Listen, babygirl. I just had a phone call from your school saying that you put another student in the infirmary-"

"Jesus," Chase breathes.

"-And now you're here telling us that you had a reason to inflict pain on one of your teachers. Who are we most likely to believe?"

"Your fake daughter!" I cry, stomping my foot ever so slightly on the floor, "I was getting weird vibes from Mr Penny, so I pushed him off of me. But like you said, let's not bother with that,"

"Right."

"We're talking about Beth. And you know me, I'd never get into a fight without a valid reason," I say, "You don't know her, but I do, and she's said some pretty fucked up things in the past,"

"Oh, yeah? Like what?"

Suddenly, we're interrupted by the loud sound of the front door slamming. All eyes turn to the direction of the noise, and I almost let out a sigh of relief once I see the two people coming in through the living room door; Ashley and Bailey.

"What's going on?" Ashley asks, walking over to us and placing the bags of food she'd been carrying on the coffee table.

She eyes Chase and Dylan weirdly, eyebrow raising even more at the view of Chase with his hands on my shoulders. Supposedly to steady me, but right now all I need is for Dylan to stop being so damn difficult.

"They found out," is all I can say, and both her and Bailey nod in understanding.

"What'd you guys think?" Bailey turns to them, grinning proudly and trapping me in a mock headlock. I feel her hand mess up my hair, her laugh loud, "Our little Sophie's growing up!"

"People were practically applauding you when they saw you run past our class window today," Ashley grins, unloading the bags before crossing her arms and leaning against the doorframe.

"Wait, how did everyone else find out?"

"Beth tweeted," she rolls her eyes, "Something about you needing to be locked up in a mental asylum, or whatever. I think the girl has some serious issues,"

"I think it was about time someone finally taught her a lesson," Bailey notes, "I have no idea how they held off for so long."

For a second, I want them to stop boasting. It feels good knowing that I did what I did to Beth, but it feels awful knowing that Dylan doesn't approve in the slightest.

No, he's shaking his head at me. He looks more disappointed than angry, but neither are the ideal emotions I want him to feel over what I did.

Truth is, I didn't just swing at Beth because I was petty and she wouldn't give me my phone back. I swung and hit the girl because she just didn't know when to stop- not with my phone, not with the leeching, not with anything; not even the homophobic slurs that she had the fucked up mind to call both Dylan and Chase.

That's what really got to me. I didn't care much before that. But when she asked me why I was so protective over my phone, and why I was keeping Luke a secret, she refused to give me any time to answer before jumping straight in and blaming it on the fact that I had 'fag dads'.

So I retracted my fist, ignored her look of shock, and struck her right across her smug little face.

I don't want to say that I'm proud of what I did, regardless of how everyone else seems to be. But I'm not about to say that I'm not proud, either, and that I'd take it all back if I could; I'd rather her actually smack me this time than for that to happen.

Later on that night, Chase and Dylan head out to clear their minds and I'm left home alone. I put a random film on the TV- horror, what else- before getting comfortable right on the couch opposite.

There's nothing to do, so I resort to going through Instagram for a bit to ease my boredom. The odd 5SOS related picture comes up and I'm careful not to double-tap it, for I know that'll create a mini uproar amongst the very people I relate with.

My idea of low-key stalking isn't enough, however, and before long I find myself accidentally liking a cluster of Luke's 'evolution' pictures throughout the years on a fan account.

I immediately unlike it straight after, but my actions don't pass by without a consequence.

I end up getting notification after notification, of tags and likes and new followers from accounts that have my post notifs on. Every little thing I do is monitored, and every little thing I do is judged.

Sighing, I log out of the app altogether and throw my phone on the other end of the couch. The comments don't get to me, but the fact that there are so many of them is what makes ignoring the entire thing difficult.

When a few more minutes pass by with me just staring blankly at the TV screen, my phone finally decides to go off again.

Upon seeing that it's Luke, a smile takes over my face as I swipe right to accept the call.

"Hello?"

"Sophie?" he says. He sounds a little reserved, for he's talking in a whisper, though I brush it off. "You okay?"

"Huh? Yeah, I'm fine," I say, shrugging though there is a zero possibility of him seeing me, "I'm alright. I'm watching The Shining,"

"You are?"

"Mhm," I say, shifting my position to get more comfortable, "Just waiting for the creepy little kids to come out in the hallway,"

"Oh. Right," he says, quite plainly. This makes my eyebrows furrow, only now just picking up on his simplistic tone.

"Luke?"

"Yeah?"

"What's wrong?"

There's a pause. "Why do you think something's wrong?"

"You sound like you're worried about something," I confess. I hear shuffling in the background.

"Hm... what? No, I'm not worried," he says. He may be saying one thing, but his tone is saying another. "I just wanted to check up on you, that's all,"

"You sure?" I ask, wanting to lighten the mood, "You sound like you've just seen a ghost and that you're trying to recover,"

He chuckles, quite lowly. His voice is still hushed, which is the most confusing part. "Nah, no ghost."

"Alright," I say, standing up from my seat on the couch and stretching, "Well, if you're not doing anything tonight, you can come over. Chase and Dylan aren't-"

I don't get to finish my sentence, for a loud crash sounds throughout the entire household, coming from upstairs. I jump, consequently dropping my phone on the floor and hearing yet another shatter.

Wincing, I leave it, far too frozen in fear to move a muscle. I hear a thump, and another crash, then silence.

"What the fuck..." I murmur, bending over to pick my phone up. I have no idea what that was, but I guess I'm going to have to find out.

Internally, I groan. This is exactly why the stupid people are the first to die in horror films. Not saying that I'm stupid, but... no, yeah. I'm pretty much a fucking idiot.

It doesn't help that I still have The Shining playing on the TV. But seeing as it's currently my only source of light right now until I get to the switch, I'll have to keep it on.

I look down at my phone, praying to God that Luke's still on the line and that he'll be there to witness my downfall. Maybe not my death- more like finding out that a dislodged branch has somehow crashed through my bedroom window- but it's the excitement that counts.

Taking a deep breath, I slowly creek the living room door open. Another sound of glass smashing is what greets me, and the terrified look on my face falls immediately.

"Okay," I say, a little louder usual to tame my newly plucked courage, "Who the fuck is up there?"

If it's the Devil, or a murderer, or even Jack from The Shining, I don't have that much else to say to them apart from listen, it's late, I'm tired, I think I just broke my phone, and breaking into people's houses is a little old-fashioned, don't you think?

I can't help but scold myself for being so tacky and cynical as I turn every single light on in the hallway, growing even more pissed at the tall shadow being displayed on the wall.

"Can you not?" I say, leaning against the railing and holding myself back from climbing up, "I've literally had enough shit for one day,"

The shadow seems to move. Then it disappears altogether, joining a collective group of other shadows on the other side of the hall that's hidden from me. Surprisingly, a short, familiar giggle is what I hear.

I pause, narrowing my eyes. I recognise that laugh.

I also recognise the scolding slap given to the person who let it slip, which is what spreads relief all throughout my body once I realise that this is probably just some sick prank.

Once my thoughts are confirmed, I let a couple of moments pass before a small smirk makes it's way onto my face and I lean against the railing.

"You know," I begin, playing along and hearing them fall quiet, "My boyfriend's a boxer-"

Before I can even begin to say anymore, a loud snort vibrates off of the walls, and I hear the all-too familiar sound of three twenty-to-twenty-three year old men bursting out in insane laughter.

"Yeah, right!" I hear Michael howl.

"A boxer," Calum reinstates, holding on to the railing to steady himself.

"What is he, the punching bag?" Ashton falls onto the floor, just about clutching his stomach with a pained yet amused look on his face.

I run up onto the landing, eyes landing on all four of them; shards of break-away bottle glass sitting in a plastic container not too far back. To say that I was more worried about paying for my broken window than a potential murder scene would be right, because right now, all I can feel are my shoulders relaxing.

"Seriously?" Luke asks me, raising an eyebrow and stepping forward, "'My boyfriend's a boxer'?"

I roll my eyes, contemplating on giving him the silent treatment for momentarily scaring the fuck out of me. But I don't, because it's nice to see him again, and I'm not about to tell him to get the fuck out when he actually probably did climb through a window.

"Had to scare away the murderer somehow," I mumble, shrugging as his arm wraps around my waist.

"Oh, silly. There was no murderer! That was just us trying to scare you," Michael says, walking past me and ruffling my hair, "We got you good, didn't we?"

"Sure," I say, eyebrow raised as the other three begin to walk down my stairs.

Luke and I follow after them, my head a cloud of questions as I clear my throat. "You guys?"

"Yeah?" they all ask, in creepy unison.

I step back slightly, alarmed at the synchronisation. "Not to be rude," I begin, "But why are you here?"

"We were bored," Michael replies, "We finished at the studio ages ago and had nowhere to go,"

"Plus, Luke wanted to see you," Calum says, before flashing me a wide smile and holding his hand out, "I'm Calum, by the way. I don't think we've met before- properly, at least,"

"Sophie," I smile back, shaking his hand.

"Well, Sophie, it's nice to finally meet you. You're all Luke ever talks-"

"Calum." Luke clears his throat.

"-about. Like, it's always Sophie this, Sophie that, she just posted a new Instagram picture, oh my god I'm going to like i-"

"Calum," Luke repeats.

"But you get the idea," Calum winks. Then he turns around, pointing at the kitchen door, "Mind if I raid your fridge?"

"Go ahead."

"Keep her," he winks at Luke, and I watch as him, Michael and Ashton all disappear in search of food to eat.

With a raised eyebrow, I turn to Luke, who seems to be avoiding my gaze entirely. "Seriously?"

"What?" he asks, attempting to look as nonchalant as ever.

"You couldn't have knocked on the door? Even the downstairs window?" I ask, walking towards him as he smiles slightly, "Would have saved me the heart attack."

"What's the fun in that?" his arms wrap around my waist once more, and my heart flutters as he gently presses his lips against mine. "At least now I know you'll turn to me for protection,"

"Oh, please," I say, leaning back ever so slightly. Not enough to fall out of his arms, but enough to look at his full face. "I knew it was you guy,"

"What? How?"

"Ashton Irwin has a very distinct laugh," I note, and Luke laughs himself.

"I can't argue with you there,"

"Mhm."

"And I'm sorry for scaring you," he apologises, brushing a lock of hair out of my face, "Even though I do applaud you. Because now I know that my girl can fend for herself," he sounds proud, "Kinda,"

"Kinda?!"

"You yelled at us!" he says in defence, "If we were actually murderers, you'd probably be dead by now."

"It's not my fault I have a loud mouth," I roll my eyes.

"I hear mouth-talk," Ashton pops his head around the doorway, half of a pickle in his mouth and a carrot in his hand. He points it at Luke, glaring at him. "You better not be asking this poor girl for a blowjob, Lucas. It's like, midnight, have some morals,"

Luke's eyes widen, and his mouth falls open. Just like mine does. "What?! I wasn't even-"

"Mhm," Ashton hums, looking not at all convinced. "Keep lying to me, Luke. It sounds so sweet,"

"Did you just-" I narrow my eyes at him, but he's gone before I can ask anymore.

When I turn to Luke, he's sighing. "Did he just-"

"Yeah," he nods, his chuckle dry, "It's like, his favourite lyric out of the entire album."

"Do you have a favourite lyric?" I ask him, leaning against the wall. Luke doesn't hesitate to join me, his hands on my hips as he leans his forehead against mine.

"I never used to,"

"But you do now?" I tilt my head to the side. He nods.

"Mhm,"

"Well, what is it?"

"What's yours?"

"Out of any album?"

"Sure,"

"She's Daddy's favourite," I smirk with no hesitation, loving the smooth sound of his low laugh, "Your turn,"

"Wow. We have similar favourites," he chuckles.

"We do?" I ask.

"Yup," Luke nods.

"Tell me yours, then,"

"Alright, I will," he leans forward, his hand grazing the exposed skin of my hips; only there due to yet another crop top that I have on.

Luke's finger hooks carefully beneath my waistband, snapping the elastic slightly before grinning and murmuring, "Princess getting naked."

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