Le Date

TheLuke: Where do you want me to pick you up? Or should we just meet somewhere?

A squeal of excitement erupted from Olivia as she read out the message to Gwen. "He wants to pick you up; this is so romantic! Can I please witness this DA- NON-DATE!?" Olivia begged, collapsing onto her knees and fixing Gwen with pleading puppy eyes. She had just managed to convince Gwen to wear the sundress she'd picked out, a delicate floral number that perfectly suited her friend.

"No!? And quit making it sound like we're star-crossed lovers or something. We're just going out for lunch and probably talking about the project…" Gwen responded, a blush tinting her cheeks. Olivia, mercifully, chose not to comment on her friend's flustered state.

"Alright, alright! So how should we reply? Maybe suggest meeting at Shake Shack? It's a casual and fun place to eat." Olivia proposed, sprawling out on her bed with Gwen's phone in hand, ready to compose the reply.

"That sounds good," Gwen conceded, although her tone was laced with apprehension. "But, can I just walk out of your house? Your parents aren't home, and my dad won't have a police officer posted here all day."

At Gwen's practicality, Olivia rolled her eyes playfully. "Oh, Gwen, don't be such a killjoy. We're supposed to be making this non-date sound exciting, not like a covert operation," she joked, her infectious energy filling the room.

A sheepish smile played on Gwen's lips. "Sorry?" she ventured, Olivia's light-hearted jab hitting its mark.

With a wave of dismissal and a chuckle, Olivia reassured her. "No worries, Gwen. Just grab your phone, your wallet, and meet him at Shake Shack. And remember, I want a blow-by-blow account later," she grinned, pushing Gwen's essentials towards her.

Gwen gingerly accepted her phone and small purse, their tangible weight grounding her amidst the whirlwind of emotions. Getting up from the bed, she allowed Olivia's cheers to buoy her spirit as she navigated towards the front door, her heart thumping with a strange, nervous excitement.

Outside, the morning air calmed her jitters somewhat. Gwen navigated the familiar streets to the subway station, the city around her buzzing with a vibrancy she hadn't noticed before. Every rustle of a leaf, every passing pedestrian, seemed to share her anticipation. It was surreal.

At the subway station, Gwen melted into the crowd, her mind a frenzy of thoughts, most of them circling around Luke. She secured her ticket, found an empty seat on the train, and let her thoughts wander while her eyes stared blankly at the floor.

Every sudden stop of the subway car, every conversation around her, mirrored her internal tumult. As she disembarked at her stop, the sight of Shake Shack brought a surge of adrenaline. This was it. She quickly checked her reflection in the subway car window, adjusted her sundress, and stepped out onto the platform, ready for whatever was next.

Luke was waiting by the storefront, leaning nonchalantly. His black shirt and contrasting white jeans highlighted his athletic physique, which she never really paid much attention to before. She quashed the errant thought, reminding herself to stay focused.

As she approached him, she noticed a peculiar energy radiating from him. At first, it seemed like typical signs of nervous anticipation - the fidgeting movements, the restlessness. Could Luke also be feeling anxious about their non-date? The idea filled her with a warmth she hadn't anticipated.

However, as she drew nearer, the subtle signs began to shift and twist into something more alarming. The energetic jittering began to resemble an unsteady shake. His expression, initially lively with anticipation, was now oddly vacant, his eyes glassy and distant. A knot of worry twisted in Gwen's stomach. This wasn't just nervousness; something was wrong. She quickened her pace, concern replacing the previous warmth in her heart.

"Luke, are you okay?" she called out, her voice echoing the worry that now consumed her thoughts.

His response was a weak smile and a hoarse, "Gwen! You look...like a sunflower in bloom!" The unusual compliment warmed her heart, but his apparent discomfort only increased her worry.

Gwen chuckled nervously, managing to retort, "Thanks, Luke. You've certainly cleaned up well too." She couldn't help stealing another glance at his strikingly well-built figure, a detail she seemed to have overlooked previously.

As they neared the entrance of Shake Shack, Luke's balance seemed to falter. His legs gave way, causing him to stumble forward. With swift reflexes, Gwen reached out to steady him, her arm looping around his waist.

Instead of righting himself, however, Luke leaned heavily into her, his strength waning. She found herself bearing his weight, keeping them both upright as surprise and concern gripped her. Luke's athletic frame, which had just moments ago seemed so formidable, now felt startlingly fragile.

"Thanks," he mumbled, making no move to stand independently. His head drooped, his eyelids fluttering weakly, a stark contrast to his usually vibrant demeanor.

Gwen quickly guided him to a nearby seat, her heart pounding with worry. As his body sunk into the chair, she could feel the tension coursing through his frame. His usually lively and confident persona seemed to be replaced with a peculiar vulnerability. It was as if she were glimpsing a new side of him, one that was strangely endearing.

"Stay right here, okay? I'll go get us some food," she reassured him, striving to maintain an air of normalcy despite the pressing worry.

Luke weakly grasped her wrist as she began to walk away, managing to pull his wallet from his pocket with shaky fingers. He extended it towards her. "I… I got it," he rasped, the determination glimmering in his eyes contrasting his frail state. Gwen found herself touched by his insistence.

A soft smile graced her lips at his persistence to pay. "Alright, thank you," she responded, warmth enveloping her heart as she accepted his wallet.

Upon reaching the counter, Gwen placed their orders, her mind restless. Her gaze was involuntarily drawn towards Luke, each glance confirming her gnawing suspicion: something was wrong. He looked exhausted, his body slumped listlessly against the chair.

The clatter of the tray in front of her brought her back to the present. She eyed the two burgers and helping of fries - their meals. But as she looked back at Luke, her heart sank. He was looking progressively worse. Should she have called for medical help instead of food? The question lingered heavily in her mind.

Taking a deep, steadying breath, Gwen picked up the tray, her knuckles white with tension. The scent of their meals wafted up, yet it was drowned out by the loud pounding of worry in her heart.

As she made her way back to their table, she couldn't help but keep a close eye on Luke. His slumped figure was a harsh reminder of the gravity of the situation, sending chills down her spine.

Setting the tray down, she slid into the seat across from him. His pale complexion was further amplified under the fluorescent lights of the Shake Shack. She noted his trembling fingers, his hunched shoulders - all signs pointing towards something significantly amiss.

"Luke?" Gwen's voice echoed softly in the busy space. "You sure you're okay, Luke? You seem...very ill..."

"M'fine," he mumbled in response, his words a slurred whisper, belying his statement. His denial was stubborn, the adamant denial of his condition both exasperating and endearing to Gwen.

Opting not to push further, Gwen began unpacking their meals. All the while, she cast concerned glances at Luke. Each time, her worry deepened at the sight of him, his state visibly deteriorating with each passing second.

As they started to eat, Gwen couldn't shake the sense of helplessness. Luke's condition had put an unexpected twist on their non-date. Yet, there was a strange sweetness in the situation. She found herself growing more affectionate towards him. His vulnerability reminded her of a wounded kitten, invoking a protective instinct she didn't know she possessed.

"Hey, Gwen?" Luke's voice was barely a whisper, his eyes meeting hers with an almost sheepish grin. "Could you...could you help me eat?"

Luke's request had taken Gwen by surprise, but she seamlessly shifted from her chair to sit next to him. He did indeed look a bit to ill to eat by himself... The new position felt odd at first, but quickly, she found herself sinking into the strange intimacy of the act. The rhythmic pattern of picking up the fries and guiding them to his mouth soon became second nature.

Each mouthful Luke took was accompanied by a content hum that vibrated through the space between them. The sounds, primal and unfiltered, sent a strange warmth blooming in Gwen's chest. His usual façade of strength and confidence had been replaced with an endearing vulnerability, and Gwen found herself charmed by it.

However, as their meal continued, a hint of suspicion threaded through Gwen's thoughts. Was Luke truly this helpless, or was he using his current state to coax her into a more girlfriend-like role? The thought of Luke playing up his condition was very much in line with his playful, teasing nature.

Despite the suspicion, Gwen realized she didn't mind. If this was a ploy for him to experience her feed him, she was more than willing to indulge him for some reason. There was a certain sweetness to the situation that she found irresistible.

As she picked up another fry, Gwen took a moment to study Luke. His eyes were closed, a blissful expression on his face as he savored each bite. His lashes cast long shadows on his cheeks, and the usual vibrant spark in his eyes had dimmed to a softer, more vulnerable glint. His lips parted slightly, ready for the next fry, a childlike anticipation that tugged at Gwen's heartstrings.

Gwen, usually confident and self-assured, found herself uncharacteristically shy. Her heart pounded louder with each fry she fed him, the intimacy of the act amplifying her nervousness. She was conscious of her every move, each breath she took. Her cheeks flushed at the intimacy of the moment, a sentiment she hoped was concealed by the dimly lit ambiance of the diner.

Suddenly, as she guided another fry to Luke's mouth, his teeth grazed her fingertips. A gasp escaped her lips at the unexpected contact. The graze was light, almost inconsequential, but it sent an electrifying shiver coursing down her spine, awakening a rush of sensations she had never associated with Luke before.

Luke seemed oblivious to her reaction, his focus solely on the food. But as he savored the bite, a slow, lazy grin spread across his face.