Disclaimer: I don't own.
(A/N): *laughs* enjoy luke's random teenage hormones. PS: sorry it's been a while. it was finals and then it was projects and then it was just life from then on. this is my first free weekend in a while.
thank you for the reviews! and all those who have reviewed more than once (you know who you are) you're awesome. like this ship.
Virtue
And I know she loved me then.
I swear to God she did.
It was the way she'd bite my lower lip
And push her hips against my hips
And dig her nails so deep into my skin.
-"Album of the Year" the Good Life
Eighteen to nineteen. By law, he's an adult, and by years, he is a teenager still.
It's been a year or so since the Hunters last visited camp. He sees Zoë sometimes. She remembers, Luke can tell.
He can see it in every avoided gaze, every accidental brush against her arm, every time he has to meet her eyes in competition or combat.
In the back of his mind, in the depths of his youthful impulses, he remembers her smooth skin underneath not so many clothes. The smell of her hair and the way she'd say—no—moan his name when she was underneath him. The warm, rushed feeling of her tongue down his throat and his hands on her hips. The motion of her eyes closing and her lips against his.
Pledge against boys his ass.
It's evident in the way the blood rushes to her face every time she meets his gaze. He knows she knows exactly the images that are replaying in his head.
He could scoff every time those Hunter girls brag about their virtues.
She wasn't so virtuous that last time she'd been here. And he makes sure that, so long as she's here, she remembers when she practically fastened herself to him a few nights in a row when all her precious sisters were fast asleep.
And with the way her body freezes whenever he's around, he knows that she absolutely, without a doubt remembers.
Gods knows he does.
But is it tearing away at him? He feels it as she shoves past him, ardent, cold.
No, not at all.
He's good at lying to himself.