A/N: everyone go check out my new story "Ghost" please, and tell me what you think about it when you do! #shameless #self #promo

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MICHAEL

"We're going to make beignets." I announce to Luke, standing in the center of the small kitchen. Luke, clad in only a thin t-shirt and pajama pants, rubs his eyes and begins to complain. We've been here for nearly a week already, and I marvel at how easy it is to fall into the daily routine of things. It's insane to think that only a few months ago, I was sitting in the depths of the woods, growing skinnier and skinner each day mourning my mother's death. As I stare at Luke, his mussed blonde hair sticking in every direction, I want to try to express my extreme gratitude towards him and the future he has created for me. And to do that, I decide I should teach him how to cook.

"No. It's too early." Luke protests, stumbling over to the fridge for creamer for his coffee. He blindly reaches for the refrigerator handle, pulling open the door and reaching inside. His hand returns with a carton of orange juice. I watch him, laughing, as he sleepily turns to his coffee and pours a huge portion of it into his coffee before he comes to his senses.

"Shit. That wasn't creamer." He pulls back the juice and stares down at the murky cup of coffee, groaning. I stare at the blonde as he shoves the orange juice back into the fridge and leans tiredly against the counter. I sigh, pouring his mangled coffee into the sink. Luke groans as I wiggle towards him, reaching playfully for his hands.

"Come on! It'll be fun!" I say, and Luke exhales reluctantly, lifting his pale blue eyes to mine. I stare in astonishment at the flickering of colors deep in his irises, grey and royal blue and silver all creating the beautiful color of blue they are now. I wish my eyes were pretty like that. Mine are just plain. Greenish and greyish and overall, nothing special.

I tear my eyes away from Luke's and turn to the pantry, opening the doors and grabbing the dusty box of beignet mix I saw earlier. I tear open the box and pour the powder mix into a large bowl, and dump the correct amount of water in. I then turn to Luke, who has picked up the box and is reading it suspiciously.

"What are beignets, anyway?" Luke asks. I grab a large spoon and hand it to the blonde.

"They're like French doughnuts. Here, mix the ingredients with this until it turns into dough." I make sure Luke's fingers are firmly around the spoon before turning back to the pantry, grabbing a bag of flour. Luke holds the spoon confusedly for a moment, and then sees the bowl. He walks tentatively towards it and dips the spoon into it, slowly mixing the thick ingredients.

I rip open the bag of flour and spill a substantial amount onto the granite countertop, spreading it around until I am satisfied. To my right, Luke starts grunting with the effort it takes to mix the thick batter, and I stealthily stare the muscles rippling under the skin of his arms.

"Is it done?" Luke spins around and I move my eyes rapidly up to meet his gaze, not letting him know I was staring. I lean forward and peer into the bowl, analyzing the dough.

"Yes, I think so." I pick up the bowl and grab the dough inside, lifting the sticky mess out of the bowl and onto the countertop, on top of the flour. I knead the dough until it is flat, whimpering a bit at the soreness of my muscles. The strength in my arms isn't quite as powerful as Luke's. Then I cut the large amount of dough until small squares.

"Luke, get a pot from under the cupboard and set it to boil on the stove, alright?" I ask, glancing at the messy boy. He blinks at me.

"Uh, okay." He bends down on his knees and rummages around, looking for a pot before standing up, complaining about the pain in his back. I ignore him, chuckling as I continue to cut the dough into squares. Luke plops the pot onto the stove with a loud bang, and then sets the heat on high as he has seen Carter do sometimes. Luke then proceeds to stare deeply into the bowl, examining the water for any sign of boiling.

I finish cutting up the dough and I grab a brown paper bag from under the sink, opening it up and sitting it on the counter. Luke continues to study the water, refusing to lift his gaze from the stove. I pour a bag of powdered sugar into the paper bag, and leave it on the counter for future use.

"It's bubbling!" Luke suddenly hollers, sprinting over and gripping my arm excitedly. He drags me over to the stove, pointing to the pot excitedly, reminding me of a child on Christmas morning. "It's bubbling! Does that mean its boiling? Should I touch it to make sure?"

"No! Don't--Don't touch it," I choke out, smiling. "It's boiling. Okay, go over to the dough and drop the squares into the water."

Luke carefully picks up the dough and manually drops it into the hot water individually, wincing whenever a spray of steaming water touches his skin. Once all the pieces of dough were sitting like bricks at the bottom of the pot, he blinks at me.

"Now what?" he says impatiently. I lean back against the counter.

"We wait for them to rise to the surface." I reply, and grab two large forks from the drawer. I hand one to him, and we silently wait for the beignets to rise. Luke begins to hum absentmindedly.

A minute or so passes, and I look into the pot to see them rising one by one. Luke squeals and immediately begins scooping out the beignets with his fork. I put down mine, seeing that Luke seems to have it under control, and I hold out the powdered sugar-filled bag to him for him to drop the beignets into. He looks at me confused before dropping them in. Once all the steaming beignets are in the bag, I shut the top and shake the bag up, so that all the wet beignets will be coated in powdered sugar. I carry it to the counter and dump the contents into a bowl, and then dumping even more powdered sugar over the top.

"Perfect!" I exclaim happily, wiping some flour off of my fingers. I stare at the mess on the counter, flour covering the countertops and dusting the floor as well. I groan. I need to clean all this up as well. Before I do though, I become intensely aware of Luke staring at me. I look up at him to see him chewing on his lip ring, staring at the ears on my head and at my red hair. His eyes slowly inch down to study my face, his smile growing.

"What?" I mumble, reaching up self-consciously to touch my cat ears. Luke's gaze lifts to my eyes and his red lips part, revealing an even larger smile.

"You look really cute right now." He comments, a small dimple dipping into his left cheek as he smirks. I blush, feeling my cheeks tint red. I shake my head a little, turning away and trying to clean up the flour.

"Yes, you do." Luke's voice grows closer behind me, and I see him appear beside me, lifting a finger to scoop up a bit of flour. He turns to me, and before I can stop him, he darts forward and places a spot of flour directly on the tip of my nose.

"Hey!" I complain, and lift my hands to wipe it off, but he reaches out and grabs both my hands together in his one hand. I gape down at his fingers. I hadn't realized his hands were so much bigger than mine. He grabs more flour and begins drawing lines on each of my cheeks. My face burns when I realize that he has drawn on whiskers and a nose.

"Oh my god, you look adorable." Luke gushes, releasing my hands and stepping back to admire me. I know he'll get all upset if I wipe it off, so I stand in complete mortification. Luke begins rummaging through a bunch of things on the counter until he comes up with a Polaroid camera.

"You're such a cutie." Luke remarks as he lifts the camera to his face, pointing it at me. I burst out laughing, my eyes squeezing shut involuntarily. Luke snaps the picture then and there, and my eyes fly open.

"No! I look so ugly when I laugh." I whine, darting forward to grab the picture. Luke easily blocks me away, waving the picture around so it can dry and focus.

"Are you kidding! You look so cute when you laugh." Luke argues, setting the picture down on the counter, away from the messy flour. "Actually, you look cute all the time." He grabs a pen and scribbles down "Cutie Michael" onto the space below the picture. He then takes it and hangs it up on the refrigerator.

I grab a fist full of flour and turn to throw it on him, but he spins around and locks both my hands under his, stopping any chance of the powder leaving my fingers. He backs me up until I am pressed against the cupboards, and my giggles slowly cease as he leans in close.

"Don't you dare." He says under his breath, forcing my hands closed under his strong grasp. I stop laughing completely as I feel his hot breath puff against my lips, so close. My heart slows to a near stop as everything around us seems to rest. My knees slowly begin to give out from under me, weakening at the effect of his breath against my pink lips, his nose brushing against mine.

His lips are almost touching mine when Luke's cell phone rings.

Luke steps back agonizingly slow, and he smiles teasingly as I grab the countertop for support as he moves away from me to answer his phone. My chest heaves, struggling to gain back its breath as I watch him cross the kitchen to get to his phone. He leans across the counter, the muscles shifting in his back, so excruciatingly visible under his thin shirt. He grabs the blaring phone and answers it, lifting it to his ear. A voice chimes in from the other line and I see Luke deflate a little.

"Calum?" He says softly. Luke quickly exits the room and I don't bother myself with wondering who Calum might be. I gather my breath back and scurry around the kitchen, cleaning up the flour and munching on a beignet. I wash the flour off my face and take a little time to stare at the Polaroid adorning the fridge. I hate how I look in it, but my heart warms a little at Luke's handwriting across the bottom.

The blonde comes back in shortly, a hand running through his hair as he sets down the phone.

"Who was that?" I ask, turning off the stove and carefully pouring the hot water into the sink.

"Calum." Luke answers distantly. "He was--is my friend back in Sydney." Luke lowered himself down into one of the bar stools beside the counter. "My mum told him about you, but he seems okay with it. He said he wants to come down and meet you sometime."

"Oh," is all I can think of to say. Something seems to be off about Luke, but I push it away from my mind as Ashton and Carter stick their heads inside the kitchen.

"Hey. You guys might want to look at this." Ashton says before disappearing back into the den area. Luke and I exchange a glance before leaving the kitchen, our shoulders brushing as we follow the two other boys into the den.

Our eyes all gaze up to the television, which shows the all-too-familiar news reporter standing at some lone intersection outside of Sydney. I can't tell if it is anywhere near us or not. The chirpy news anchor's voice trails toward my ears.

"The search in Sydney ended with no finding of a young hybrid. However, we found a small sheltered area deep inside the woods, a little off of the popular trail many people hike upon. Detectives returned with fingerprints, which coincidentally matched up with the fingerprints found on a worn blue blanket. Detectives found this blanket outside the window of a home in Sydney. The residents of the home claimed that they had never seen the blanket before, but the detectives believe that the blanket was in possession of the hybrid. They are now under the belief that the hybrid has fled Sydney. Detectives have decided to continue their search for the young hybrid outside of Sydney, in smaller rural areas around Australia."

I hadn't realized I was shaking until Luke wraps a strong arm around me, pulling me close to him. Ashton and Carter stare at me with pity in their eyes, but I don't make eye contact with them.

"They found my blanket." I murmur into Luke's chest. It's a given fact, and there is no need to repeat the information, but I do anyway. I feel Luke nod, but he doesn't say anything. Nobody does for a few minutes. The room is completely silent. Luke's soft sighs next to my ear is the only thing that keeps me from breaking down.

"Hey, you'll be okay, Michael." Carter says suddenly. He grabs a beanie and pulls it over my ears. "See? Just-- keep this on, and we'll be alright." Luke helps adjust the beanie over my ears. I sniffle.

"Right." Ashton adds, helping me stuff my tail into my pants. "They won't find you. We won't let them." Ashton grabs the remote and shuts off the television, cutting off the reporter listing out the dangers of hybrids. Luke gently leads me towards the couch, sitting us both down. He doesn't stop me when I curl my feet up under me and hide my face in his shirt. I don't want anyone to see the tears staining my cheeks.

"Let's watch a movie to get our mind off things, yeah?" Ashton suggests, plopping down beside me. Carter sits down beside Luke, and the four of us sit tightly together on the couch. Ashton browses Netflix for a good movie, and suddenly his eyes light up.

"Let's watch Carrie!" He exclaims. "That will distract us."

"It's barely even the afternoon! It's too early for horror films." Luke protests. I block out their voices, focusing only on my own breathing to keep my sanity.

Ashton ignores him and clicks play. The hazel eyed boy jumps up and shuts off the lights, plunging us into darkness. I've never heard of the movie Carrie before, and it makes me a bit nervous. It sounds scary, especially judging by Luke's nervous fingers and Carter's wide eyes.

The movie starts, and it is scarier than anything I have ever seen before. Things pop out at the screen and this girl goes insane, screaming and acting crazy. I feel like ice is seeping into my bloodstream, and I curl up to Luke's shaking body, glancing around the dark room for any sign of any creatures. Why does anyone want to watch these movies? Carter lets out muffled screams every once and a while, and Ashton stares at the screen with no emotion written on his face. It makes me wonder if he is paying attention at all. Luke tightens his grip on me as the movie progresses, his fingers wrapped around me protectively. Each time I jump, he squeezes me closer to him.

The movie is unbearably long, and as soon as it is over, Carter leaps to his feet and sprints across the room, flicking on the lights. All four of us glance around the room, trembling. I can't seem to shut my eyes.

Luke exhales shakily. "That was terrifying. I hate scary movies." He shifts his eyes down to me. I feel paralyzed, unable to move from my curled up position next to Luke. We all sit in silence, the room eerily quiet until the sound of thunder booms from outside. We all jump, and shortly after we hear the sound of rain pounding against the small house.

"Okay. I'm going to my room." Ashton tells us, obviously freaked out by the sudden rain and the horror film. Carter nods in agreement, following Ashton down the hall. I am still unable to move, so Luke picks me up, carrying me as though I weighed nothing but a feather.

We entered our room, and Luke carefully puts me on the bed. I stare out of the window, watching the water droplets travel down the glass. Luke sighs next to me, wrapping his arms around my middle, lowering me back until our heads hit the pillows. Luke sticks his knees behind mine and tangles our feet together, nuzzling his nose into my neck. I stare silently out the window as thunder roars outside, and rain throws itself atrociously down to our earth. Luke snuggles me closer, misinterpreting my whimpers for fear. I actually like the rain. It reminds me that even the sky cries too.

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A/N well there ya go

i really have no idea what this chapter was. i wrote it at like 2 in the morning last night because i've had writer's block for the past week, so i was half asleep and im too lazy to reread it

i hope you all had a fabulous Christmas and i hope you got everything you wanted (: please vote and comment. I love hearing what you think about it haha

love you bye x