The Electricity in My Veins

Reasons Why Loving Luka is Foolish

1. Mom already called dibs
2. He’s waaay too old (but I mean not that old, right? My mom’s practically robbing the cradle with this one. I mean really, 45, 21, 15. Six years > Twenty-four years. Which looks better? I think we all know which. It’s a fucking no brainer.)
3. He worships the ground Mom walks on. (No lie, I caught him framing a piece of gum mom stopped on once. He fucking scrapped the gum off her shoe and framed it! That’s sick! Sick, sick, sick, buuuutttt, hella cute. Shows he’s devoted.)
4. He doesn’t look at me that way. (Asshole, hot as he maybe, had the guts to call my two piece hella, skimpy bikini - it was more string than anything – yeah, imagine it – hot, right?- cute. Fucking Cute! He patted me on the head, musing my hair up and everything, and then went back to ogling my mom. Bitch, was wearing a one-piece, that showed zilch - by the way. Sorry for calling you out of your name, mommy! I didn’t mean. –I meant it-)
5. He looks like he just got out of prison with all that ink on his arms and whatnot. (Who the fuck am I trying to kid?! I love his tattoos! Part of the reason – the whole reason – he’s so sexy.)
6. He wouldn’t last long in prison. (What can I say? I like em’ dangerous. And let’s just face it. Luka’s not making it out of the joint straight, that’s a sure fire bottom if I’ve ever seen one. And I’ve seen one, trust me.)
7. Too much work. (I’m not one for all that hard work crap. And getting Luka well be lots of hard work. I’m not into that shit.)
8. Moms and my relationship will fall to hell.
9. I’m jail bait.
10. I’d be creating another cradle robber. (My mom’s enough. I don’t need another one in the house.)

I bit into the pencil dangling from my lips, the bitter taste of led filling my mouth as I bit through the yellow painted wood. I sighed, racking a hand through my hair tiredly, the hastily written words on the paper in front of me, blurring and mussing together the harder I stared at them. What’s the point of even writing this, I thought bitterly to myself, it’s not like it’ll change anything. Letting out another sigh, I ripped the paper to shreds and watched them fall like snow into the rubbish bin I keep near my desk for thing like this, failures. I’ve been having a lot of those lately. My face flushes a bright red as thoughts of this morning creep into my mind. Shit, what an epic fail today was.

Make-up, check.
Cute clothes, check – check.
No mom, check.
Unable to cook Luka whom I’m going to fucking dazzle with my mad skills in the kitchen, check – check
Pants (because shit like that happens) check

Satisfied. I threw a quick smile to the mirror and then I was rushing down the stairs, Luca’s blissful face after eating my food the only thing on my mind. Humming a random tone under my breath, I practically skipped into the kitchen, the smile on my face screaming: I just found this great new thing called, sunshine, won’t you come see it with me? That’s right everything was eggs and bacon but then I reached the kitchen and the sight I was met with wiped the smile clean off my face.

There Luka stood, back to me, shirtless yet again, apron on, and in his fucking boxers. It almost looked like he was wearing just the apron. Yes, I could see most everything. And hell yes – it was yummy, hella yummy – god, strike me down now, I’m ready to die, yummy. Seems mouthwatering doesn’t it? But I digress, that has nothing to do with the story –buuuutttt, I mean I won’t judge if that picture is the only thing you take away from this story - however, the point is that there was a frying pan in his hands. And the kitchen smelled of the most amazing pancakes in the world. The plate of pancakes that sat off to the side of the stove, in perfect pancake placing position, looked golden-brown, fluffy, had just the right amount of butter, and were drowning in syrup. Basically I was met with two mouthwatering sights the moment I skipped into the kitchen.

“Ah! Alice this is delicious! In fact this might be the best thing I’ve eaten in my whole life!” Luka smiled brightly, praising my mad cooking skills for what felt like the hundredth time since he took his first bite. I blush. His constant compliments making my heart melt. “Luca you tease! You shouldn’t flatter a girl like this! You’ll make her fall in love with you!” I half joke. His sweet words making my love for him sky rocket. If he loves my cooking this much I should cook more often. “That’s okay,” I blink stupidly at his words not understanding what he’s hinting at. He smiles gently at me and slides out of his chair, choosing to kneel in front of me on one knee instead. I gasp. This position! No it couldn’t be... “I wouldn’t mind you falling in love with me. Heck. Screw minding! I want you to marry me! Let’s forget your mom and ran away together. I can’t bear the thought of not being able to taste this cooking every morning!” But it is! He’s asking me to marry him! “Oh, Luca! Yes! Yes! A thousand times, yes!”

Crushed to a million pieces in front of my face at the sight of Luka strutting around the kitchen like he owned the place. So much for him not being able to cook, the voice inside my head cried crazily. I didn’t know if he heard my fantasy crushing into a million pieces or my inner voice’s crazed cry but he looked up from the stove and flashed a quick smile my way before going back to what he was doing. “Hey, sleepyhead, I was going to bring you breakfast in bed but this is nice too.”

“Who the hell told you to do that?” I snapped before I could help myself.

“I just thought it would be nice.” He said unfazed by my anger.

“Well...it wasn’t.” I say before storming out of the kitchen without another word. And trust it took a lot of effort to walk away from those pancakes, that’s just how mad I was about not being able to cook.

“Huff,” I sigh, yet again. The way I acted this morning giving me a headache. “How am I supposed to face him at dinner after that?”