Author's note: Hey guys! I know, I know, I took FOREVER to update. But the good news is that I have a working computer now, AND I HAVE INTERNET. Great, right? Sort of what you need to continue fanfiction, hahaha. Well, I hope you guys enjoy this rough ride with Luke as of right now. This entails him laying the foundation for his life in London!
Remember!:
-The story sounds better when you think of an older voice, and a British accent.
-The story LOOKS better, when the font is in verdana or serif font, has a dark background, and the margins are set to half!
It makes the story much easier to read.
I love you all, and I thank you for patiently waiting for the chapters to be updated. I will be able to post more chapters, I promise!
I woke to the light clanging of pots and pans beneath me. No other day would the sun's rays have felt as bright and hot, a smile so effervescently beaming into the gold Victorian room in which I lay. Unable to take the bull by its horns, I shielded my eyes from the light with my forearm, and traced the embossed wallpaper with idle fingertips, spending unnecessary amounts of time in bed.
Eventually though, thanks to my horrid curiosity, I padded to the staircase to eavesdrop. But, as the Gods may have it, I found myself before that frosted kitchen door, listening for a sign of life as I once did as a child. Actually, I was waiting for the right time to intrude, but that's beside the point.
"Well do you want to wake him with our seemingly incessant bickering or what?" Said Flora, rather nonchalantly; almost pouting. Professor Layton began with a smart remark in my defense when I cut him off with my dastardly awkward gait and apprehensive manner of avoiding Layton's eyes.
"Tha-," I shouted, then corrected myself, "Thank – Thank you for the free lodging, Flora… Professor,"
I nodded at him, still wary.
"Oh nonsense, Luke!" She seemed delighted to have me in the kitchen. I wonder why.
"We've made you a glorious breakfast, so I hope you enjoy it!"
"Enjoy it, you aren't ea-"
"I've got errands to run, I'll fetch the two of you for dinner tonight! Au Revoir!"
And off she went, chuckling loudly as if her motive were to make the entire townhouse echo, emphasizing its loneliness. We were alone.
"So… We're alone for breakfast." I muttered. It was getting more humid by the minute.
"That doesn't bother you, does it? We can dine on the terrace if you'd like to see townspeople while you eat," the professor chuckled, edging my way. Damn it all. I didn't know what to do, or even what to say for that matter. It seemed as if last night's rekindling had vanished into thin air and somewhere, resided in my dreams for me, but... But for him, he'd just continued out his even after he woke.
We ended up eating in the kitchen, because to be honest, I'd no change of clothes, and I would not have the town assuming that I'd slept with such a, a respectable man, let alone slept in his pajamas… No matter how much I'd prefer it to be true.
It was silent. No more chattiness I'd heard earlier, but a quiet, yet happy professor. Naturally, I observed how carefully he cut his eggs into triangles before skewing them with his fork and taking a bite. He caught me off guard when he mentioned the clothes.
"So you're wearing my pajamas."
I choked on my food, and yet he continued with a laughed "did you, hahaha, come into my room to take a peak? And steal my bedtime clothes while you were at it? Boy?"
He- he found it rather amusing, but there I was, coughing up a storm and turning red from embarrassment. Oh dear god. This wasn't happening. I hadn't realized; of course he would notice his own nightwear! "Goodness boy, it's okay," he laughed, before becoming hesitant, then worried. "Luke. Luke, are you alright?" He stood and made to put his hands on me, but I pushed him away and breathed hard.
It seems strange when I narrate it, but I felt my heart harden when I pushed him away and stumbled towards the sink. Breathing so deeply, I was afraid I'd frightened him, my salted eyes staring. I bet I looked quite ghastly, but… You'd understand if you were in my place. "Stop it," I choked. "Stop it." Again and again, I said it. Thunderstruck, the man made not for me.
So I headed for the kitchen door, and out I went, going up the stairs. I couldn't take all of this emotion, partly in my opinion because whilst in America, people were lonely, kept to themselves and whatnot. It wasn't all too strange, but if you sat at a diner and observed the city's people, you would see countless, if not many, human beings silently making way to get where they need to be. Such a dark and dreary atmosphere, and I admit, it shaped me. And with that, what would one expect of me?
I packed my belongings as fast I could, fumbling with briefcase handles and belt buckles as I changed. From downstairs I heard Layton calling for me, questioning and questioning. About where I was going, what I was heading to do, who I was to see, where I would stay, and worst of all, when I would see him next..
I answered as I began down the stairs. Sucking in a bit of air to mask my nerves-on-end, I proceeded to take steps downward, noticing Layton in my periphery, who was waiting patiently by the door although his voice said otherwise. He was nervous, I could tell.. And somewhat disheartened.
"I have a meeting, so I'm going out to find myself some decent apparel. I'll find a place to stay, don't worry, and don't you remember what Flora said? I might see you at her dinner. " All of the words came out of my mouth as if a snake were slithering out of it, smooth and quite literal. My movements now had become all matter-of-fact, as I kept eyesight from him the entire time I spoke. Just before opening the door and exiting, I dropped a satin bundle within his arms.
"Your nightwear, Sir Layton."
Eventually, I found myself in front of a small corner shop branded "Penn and Company." From the looks of it, when I walked in, it was a collaboration of two business owners- a clothier, and a suit seller- with the area to my left fashioning a glamorous window for all to see, passing by, the men being fitted for their garments atop a stool, and to my right, a few rooms each displaying different sellers of suits and menswear. I suppose I was in the right place at the right time.
"Hello sir! Welcome to Penn and Company. May I be of any assistance to you? My name is Ernest if you need anything at all."
Nodding at what seemed to be a tailor, I made my way towards the numerous aisles adorned with clothes, and had at them. What catastrophe of a wardrobe I was creating, I don't know, but somehow, I'd come to have an armful.
"You know sir, You've got quite interesting taste. " Ernest mentioned, pins between his plumped lips. He set them down next to my feet, and reached for a few of my chosen garments.
"Like this here, " He.. He held up a hat and coat. "This reminds me of a man I'd seen in papers. A brown and red top hat? A brown coat? On you, sir? " He laughed in disbelief, " Oh good heavens, no! Don't do it to yourself. You've got such good taste in the other fine garbs you've got laying here."
I stared at the coat and hat the entire time I'd been fitted. Damn Layton. Damn Ernest. Damn. Damn. Damn. And so, I absconded before he brought my ticket out. Why, you ask? I was in need of financial assistance, and impulsively went to the professor's old bank. It turns out, not all of the funds for college were used up, and the man never came around to taking what was initially my father's and his, back. I suppose he meant for me to keep it.
The banks of London are magnificent. Each clicking step I made created a flashbulb memory in which I was brought back to my adventurous days with the man whom I'd fallen in love with. That damned reassuring face, that warm smile, surfaced behind my eyelids and refused to dissipate. Naturally my mind went elsewhere, crept out of that innocent thought and continued to elaborate. I stood unaware before my banker, unable to break free of the daydream that just occurred. Skin, bodies broken in sweat, raspy voices, moans. I could not escape, and yet it .. Hurt so good , I suppose.
"May I help you, sir? "