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By now, Julie knows that Luke and sleep don’t exactly get along.
Like... peanut butter and coleslaw. Studying and roller coasters. Alex and high school athletics. Luke and sleep are polar opposites, and flat-out don’t have time for each other. Whatever fundamental sequence of Luke’s DNA, whatever weird criss-cross firing of neurons in his head looks at a good night’s sleep, and decides, “nope, not for me...”
Well, Julie doesn’t get it, but that’s how Luke’s made. Apparently, it’s how he’s always been, even when he was alive. Everyone else just has to deal with it.
“You’re keeping me up,” she announces, drawing her fuzzy blanket tighter around her shoulders.
Luke’s head shoots up, surprised — and sure, he’s got a right to be, considering it’s almost two in the morning. No sane person would be up this late. Not by choice, anyways... and Julie isn’t choosing to be awake herself. Something inside of her — one of those lightbulbs in her chest that blaze bright whenever the boys are near, that can feel them like a low, humming frequency even when they’re out of sight — is still awake, and buzzing. Late nights are like this. Whenever Luke can’t put himself to sleep — whether his brain is too loud, or his body too charged with energy — Julie feels it. She doesn’t want to, and definitely doesn’t enjoy it... but this is what her life has become. Being kept awake half the night by cute, insomniac ghosts.
He lowers his pencil slowly, and pulls his notebook against his chest. Luke sucks his cheeks, looking sheepish.
“Sorry. I, uhh, I was just —“ He gestures vaguely around the darkened studio. A few faint snores echo from the loft, where Alex has set up a private space for himself. Reggie is face down on the sofa in a pile of blankets, hugging them to his chest like a kangaroo protecting its baby. (Julie’s going to have to get him a stuffed animal to snuggle one of these days; half the reason Luke doesn’t sleep, she suspects, is because Reggie’s such a blanket hog.)
The studio is dark except for a single light, glowing in the corner of the room. Luke is curled up there, with his notebook against his knees… but he wasn’t writing when Julie slipped in. He was glaring down at the page like it personally offended him. Now, he sets the notebook aside without a second glance, turning his full attention on her.
“Just felt like there was a song in my head, and I had to get it out. But it’s, uhh…” He gives his shaggy head a shake. “Not coming.”
“Maybe ‘cause you’re exhausted.” Julie crosses her arms. “It’s way past bedtime, Luke.”
“I’m a ghost, though.” He spreads his arms wide and leans back in his seat, like that’s something to be proud of. “Ghosts don’t have bedtimes.”
Without blinking, Julie crosses over to the couch and gives it a firm kick.
“Reggie? When’s your bedtime?”
Reggie snorts, popping his head up. “Ten-thirty,” he mutters… before faceplanting in the blankets again.
Luke rolls his eyes. “Reggie can have a bedtime if he wants to. I’m a free agent.”
“You’re an insomniac, and should probably talk to someone.”
“You know any good ghost doctors?”
Julie’s eye twitches. “We’ll find one.”
Tipping his head back towards the ceiling, Luke clicks his tongue. “I dunno, Jules, it’s been a while since my last checkup… I don’t got time for all the bells and whistles, you know? They’re gonna take that little hammer to my knee, and it’s gonna go right through me… they're gonna look for my heartbeat and be real confused... probably try to give me some spooky X-rays…” He gasps, and bolts upright. “Julie, they’re gonna find out I don’t have a skeleton!”
Okay, thinks Julie, the late hour is definitely getting to his head.
“Is that your excuse?”
The unexpected voice from the darkness sends them both jumping out of their skin. Luke flails, nearly falling out of his chair; blinking up at the loft, Julie’s eyes widen as a phenomenal mess of bedhead peeks out over the railing.
“We all know you’re afraid of needles. You haven’t had a booster shot in thirty years, Luke.” Alex glares down at them both. “Now, either shut up or go away, some of us are trying to sleep!”
Reggie holds up a hand, and mumbles something like “agreed,” into his pillow.
Clapping her palm over her mouth, Julie exchanges a sheepish glance with Luke. It takes every ounce of her self-control not to burst out laughing — Alex might actually start throwing things at them — but from the way Luke’s shoulders shake, she doesn’t trust him to hold out.
“Okay, sorry, we’re leaving,” she says in an hushed rush… and, before Luke can say another word, she snags him by the arm and pulls him with her.
They slip out the doors of the studio, and break into the humid night air. May in Los Angeles is just beginning to get hot -hot; warm enough to justify tank tops instead of sweatshirts, flip-flops instead of monster slippers. Julie’s pajamas aren’t anything interesting — Luke’s seen her in worse — but under the cool moonlight, his eyes still drink her in as if seeing her for the first time.
“You sleep with all those necklaces on?” he asks.
Okay, maybe he is seeing her for the first time, because Julie’s slept with her jewelry on since, like… sixth grade.
“You’re just noticing?”
“They’re pretty in the moonlight,” he replies, like it’s a foregone conclusion; then his brows furrow. “What if they choke you?”
“That’s not how it works, Luke.”
“Sure it is! All they need to do is get a little tangled up —“ He mimes, presumably, Julie doing acrobatics in her sleep. “And wham, you end up all strangled to death! I know we’ve got a gimmick, Julie, but we don’t gotta make it a full-phantom band so soon.”
“You say that like you’ve got plans for my death.”
“I mean…” He shrugs, the picture of innocence. “Not in the near future, but, y’know, we can't have you out-aging us…”
“Oh,” she says, beginning the long trek up the pathway to the house. “So I’ve got… two years before you guys decide to kill me. That’s reassuring.”
Luke follows after her, their footsteps echoing together. “Eh, we could stretch it to five. Six, tops. You’re tiny, you’ve still got a few good years left in you. Not like you’re gonna go all grandma on us too soon.”
Julie gasps, and swats at him. Luke accepts the hit to the chest with dignity, biting back a grin. He looks unfairly handsome in the moonlight… and Julie refuses to think about that, because it opens up a wole Pandora’s Box of issues, ranging from the obvious (he’s a ghost eternally trapped at seventeen and, unless he somehow comes back to life through the power of music, I am going to get older than him someday) to the serious (he’s keeping me up at two in the morning).
Luke isn’t handsome. He’s a sleepless menace, and Julie shouldn’t entertain him a second longer.
They reach her door. Somehow, they come to a stop at exactly the same time, turning towards each other. Julie tugs her blanket tighter around her bare shoulders. Luke reaches out, and pulls the door open for her.
“I guess —“ he says.
“Yeah,” Julie agrees quickly. “Sounds good.”
“Great.”
“Great.”
“Goodnight, then?”
“Yeah. Goodnight.”
They smile at each other for a second, close-lipped and quiet… before something in Julie breaks, and she lays a hand on his arm. Somehow, he’s always so warm under her touch, so solid. He feels like a promise always kept… a steadiness, a certainty. A comfort.
“Come on,” she says softly, taking them both by surprise. “My bed has room for two.”
He’s still so very warm, in bed next to her, with their legs tangled and bodies brushing whenever they move. It’s too humid for covers, so Julie’s got her favorite sheet, instead. As soon as Luke sees it, he billows it up into the air, and lets it fall down on top of them both like a parachute. Julie claps a hand over her mouth to hide her giggles. Even in the darkness of her bedroom — lit by the dimly glowing fairylights she only put on to keep Luke from tripping over her carpet — his grin is blinding. As the sheet flutters down over them both, she stretches her arms up to welcome it; he laughs so loudly, it’s a good thing her dad and brother can’t hear.
“This,” she huffs, once they’re both hiding under the covers, “this isn’t what we should be doing. It’s two in the morning.”
“Yeah. You’re right. Totally right.” Luke’s quiet for a moment — before shaking the covers again, causing a wave of air to roll over them. He makes a ridiculous whoosh! noise, and Julie snorts.
“Stop!” She swats at his shoulder again; the sound is harsher than the impact. Luke yelps and curls in on himself, feigning a mortal injury. Over his groans and moans and “Julie, how could you”s, Julie can’t restrain another fit of giggles.
Oh god, she’s gone for this boy. She really is.
It’s two in the morning, and she’s in hysterics in her bedroom over a boy no one else in the world can see… and he’s smiling at her like she’s the brightest star blazing in the sky, and his legs are brushing hers, and she can feel the pulse of his heartbeat, the warmth of his breath… which shouldn’t be possible, because he’s dead.
Luke reaches up. Gently, he brushes a stray curl from Julie’s temple. His hand lingers, and Julie feels dizzy.
“This feels like heaven,” he says softly.
Julie’s breath catches.
“I… thought you said you’d never get there.”
“Yeah, well…” When he chuckles, his breath ruffles her hair. “I’m not much of a believer in the ‘all rockstars go to heaven’ kinda thing… I don’t even know if I buy into that stuff, period.” He shrugs, and glances down, at the bare inches of space in between them. “But this… is what it’d feel like, I think. Right here, with you. This kind of forever.”
“With...” She swallows past a throat that is suddenly too dry, forcing words together in a head that reverberates with heaven and you. Forever. God, can they make this last forever?
Instead of speaking, her hand finds Luke’s in the darkness. Their palms press; their fingers intertwine. He is restless beneath her touch, all calluses and carelessness and nervous energy… but Julie holds him until she feels him relax, then slowly raises their hands up between them.
“I’d like that,” she whispers. “To stay here forever.”
His eyes shine bright. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” She swallows. “As long as it’s with you.”
These are exactly the sort of confessions that could not be made any time other than late in the night, or early in the morning — that funny liminal space of existence, the hours where nothing is really real, and everything feels like it matters too much. Julie is floating, and Luke is right here with her. He’s smiling inches away from her face… and if she wanted to lean over, to close the distance between them, it would be as easy as breathing.
She doesn’t, though, because this moment feels sacred. She won’t claim it selfishly for herself — won’t turn it into something it’s not. This moment is shared, between her and Luke... secrets whispered in the dark for their ears alone. It should stay that way.
“You’re beautiful,” he breathes softly, like it’s all he knows for sure.
“You’re amazing,” she replies, in the same voice.
“You’re a star.”
“You’re inspiring.”
“You make me feel alive again.”
“So do you.”
They exhale in the silence, the words floating through the air around them. Julie imagines she can see them glowing in the darkness. If she wanted, she could pluck them out of thin air, tuck them away in her dream box and save them forever. This feels like the sort of moment that belongs there — halfway between dream and waking, almost too good to be true.
For a while, they don’t talk at all. Luke plays with her hair, and Julie twines their fingers. Their breaths match each other’s in the silence. It feels like floating down a lazy river, and slowly, Julie can feel herself being carried away.
She’s only aware of her eyes getting heavier when Luke’s fingers graze her brow, and she can’t force her lids open to look at him.
“Looks like one of us is starting to fall asleep,” Luke teases, his voice soft.
Julie humms, and feels herself smile. “You.”
“Not me.” His voice is smiling, too. “You.”
“ You need t’ sleep.” She exhales, and sees it ruffle his hair like leaves on a tree. His nose scrunches up. He doesn’t look drowsy — not like he’s drowning in it, like she is — but he’s not wide awake, either. His head is quiet, his soul is calm; the hive of bees buzzing in Julie’s chest has given up the ghost for tonight. (Little Luke-shaped bees, with beanies and guitars, who keep flying into everything because they’ve got too much energy…)
She bursts into giggles again at the thought. They spill from her lips like honey; she’s too tired to silence them, nevermind hide her grin. Instead, she slumps against Luke, muffling herself against his shoulder. He smells like pine needles and sunshine. His arms wrap around her back to steady her, and she can feel him smiling against her, and Julie thinks…
Julie thinks…
Forever.
“What’s so funny?” he murmurs into the crown of her head.
“Bees,” she replies, and giggles again.
“Oh yeah?” He hums, like this makes perfect sense. “I mean, yeah, they’re pretty hilarious.”
“Mmm.” She presses her face against his shoulder, and decides to stay there. “Mmm.”
For a long moment, he’s completely still — like the world’s most realistic stuffed animal, the coziest pillow ever made — before his hand tentatively begins to massage between her shoulder blades, running up and down her spine.
“You good, Julie?” he murmurs softly, and Julie humms again.
“Stay with me,” she manages to say. Forever. “Sleep here… with me.”
Luke’s caress feels like a lullaby. The lips that graze her temple are a promise.
“Don’t worry, Julie,” he murmurs. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Somehow, forever feels good enough for tonight.