Earphones were stuck in Luca's ears—blasting music so loud he was unable to hear what was going on beside the blaring voice that sang, almost killing his eardrums.

He allowed his body to dance around the kitchen—light moves that weren't extraordinarily good but were fairly decent for someone who had never taken dance lessons, only longed to.

He'd go along with Betsy to her lessons when she was ten but he'd only be allowed to watch and nothing more. Because dancing was a girls sport, apart from the fact that he saw the odd boy within the class but still, his parents wouldn't budge.

He sighed at the memories as his arms and legs moved to the rhythm, he felt something—he felt free.

And then he turned and stumbled at what he saw, or well, who he saw. Ashton fucking Anders.

He yanked the earphones from his ears and glared coldly at the blond boy with his arms crossed over his chest.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Luca hissed, wondering why the guy was at his house on a Saturday.

Ashton smiled widely, "Just watching. Nice dance moves."

Luca stuck his nose up at the compliment and pushed past him, itching to escape the situation he had been thrown into and wander off to his bedroom.

"Oh come on! I was trying to be nice," Ashton exclaimed, his smile dropping at Luca's coldness towards him.

"Well don't," Luca grumbled, halting his steps to look back at Ashton.

"Dudeee, I don't know why you hate me so much? Well Betsy said you hate everyone but do you actually like anyone?" Ashton questioned, walking over to the smaller boy.

"Who I like and who I hate is none of your business," Luca responded quietly, "Why are you even here by the way?"

Ashton wanted to keep Luca talking for as long as he could, because Betsy had mentioned he was reserved and quiet and well, if he didn't talk to many people then why not converse with the guy as much as possible. No matter the reaction he received from those conversations, at least he got Luca talking.

"Bezzy invited me over," Ashton answered before proceeding, "And I wasn't asking who you hate and don't hate, I was asking if you actually liked anyone. Do you?"

Luca rolled his eyes, and Ashton noticed how hazel they were up close—the colour even more greenish-gold then Betsy's.

"No. I don't," Luca grimaced, instantly feeling bothered he even told Ashton that.

"Why not?" Ashton pressed, leaning in a little closer.

"Because I just don't okay?"

Ashton chuckled, "I bet I could change that. I bet I could make you like me."