Luke's POV
"You have a lot of scars Luke..."
I panicked. Fuck how could I have been so careless.
"I uh I fell off my bike yesterday. I just got scratched up." He frowned at me, and I knew he didn't believe me.
"Luke you can't get horizontal cuts and scars across your wrist from falling off a bike. The bruises maybe, but not the cuts." I sucked in a breath as he stood up and walked towards me.
"Its nothing, really." I say trying to make him think that I'm not a total fuck up who's dad hates his guts.
"Don't bullshit me Luke, who did this to you?" He ask hinting to the bruises along my arm.
"N-no one, like I said I just fell off my bike." I say flinching slightly as he grazed his thumb over the purple patches of skin. He exhaled harshly. I could tell he still wanted to know the truth, but he decided to drop it. Thankfully.
"Okay." He finally said after a long pause. I was lost in his many tattoos. They were mainly in black in white, but something about the monochrome drawings made them stand out. Like they told a story in no chronological order.
"How many do you have?" I find myself asking.
"27. This one's my favourite." He said pointing to his left wrist. I scrunched my eyebrows together in confusion. There were 2 tally marks along with a heart split down the middle. "The tally marks are the number of people I fell in love with. The heart is just a reminder to not fall in love again. The second relationship I was in ended horribly."
"Do you mind if I ask who these two people were?" I ask immediately regretting letting the words slip out of my mouth. Cmon Luke you barely know this guy.
"The first one was when I was 8, quite young, but this person had piercing blue eyes, sort of like yours. I never saw them again though, but I know I'll never forget the day I met them." He said smiling like an idiot. My heart couldn't help but melt. He remembers someone from 11 years ago and acts like cupid hit him with an arrow. I found myself smiling as a blush appeared on his cheeks. "But my life's not important, tell me about you. What's your life like?" My face dropped.
"Uhm, average? I have a fairly boring life to say the least." I say looking at my watch. 5:30 pm. Shit. Dad always wants me home before 5. "I-I have to go." Panicking, I grabbed my coat and practically ran out his bedroom door and front door. I could here his footsteps run towards me.
"Luke!" He yelled grabbing my arm.
"Michael, please I have to get home." I say hurriedly.
"Not until you tell me what's really going on, Luke." I would've ran away by then had it not been for his pleading green eyes. I could feel my eyes water as both fear and anger set in. Fear for Michael thinking I'm a freak and not want anything to do with me, and anger for being afraid to tell someone.
"I," a tear slipped down my cheek as I refused to look him in the eyes, "Michael my dad abuses me. Now please let me get home before I get into any more trouble." I say about to pull away from his grasp, but he only tightened it.
"I'm taking you home."
"No, plea-"
"No way in hell I'm letting that sick bastard lay his hands on you." He says as he walks me back to his motorcycle.
And so he drove me home despite my pleas. I'm so fucking dead. We were at the front door when my mom opened the door. I sighed in relief.
"Luke, who's this?" She asked smiling at Michael.
"I'm Michael, Luke and I had a project to do and we lost track of time, I'm sorry." My mom only shook her head and smiled.
"That's quite alright dear." Maybe I wouldn't die today.
