Vigilante ∆ lrh

29. ∆ Roadtrip

His soul was ripped from him, shredded and discarded as the knife pushed into her taut skin. It was her body that collapsed not the arrogant brute's, her blood pooled, warm as he crawled to her lifeless body.

He bolted upright, heart banging against his ribcage, violent earthquake aftershocks, like stone smashing into stone. From head to toe, sweat coated him and fear froze his limbs as the thin line between dream and reality widened until he was left staring into the void of his dark, empty room.

He had hoped a month would have stopped the nightmares from stealing his sleep yet time had had the opposite effect; the more time that passed, the worse they became. Luke grasped his pillow until his knuckles turned deathly white with molten rage. His lungs begged to inhale and explode with everything he had but he couldn't, he'd wake everyone up.

Instead he threw everything into his fists as he hammered the punch bag, again and again- his knuckles already deep red and purple from repetition. The air was silent as no one came to stop him. Luke sank to his knees as he crumbled again and again. Like the waves crashing on the shore over and over again, like the white seafoam tearing away the cliff, rock by rock- until it was raw, over and over again.

What was he supposed to do now? She was living under the same roof yet she barely looked at him and she left the room every time  he entered. It was tearing him apart. How could he lose someone he never had? How could he lose someone who lived in the same house as him?

She was happy though. Calum was happy. Together they had found peace or so it appeared that way and that's what he wanted wasn't it? Their happiness. That was why he did what he did. He had asked her outright if the kiss had meant anything more and she had told him that she loved Calum. She loved him.

He hadn't fought to change her mind and he had now lost his chance. He would accept Calum and Demi. It was the right thing to do. He would move on. It had all been a mistake anyway. That's what he had told Michael when he was dragged into his room to explain why he had Demi’s lipstick smudged across his lips.

He was honest with Michael about the event of the kiss but when Michael had asked how Luke had felt about it, he couldn't stomach the truth. But at the time he hadn't realized the kiss would have created such a void between them- no late night chats, no training, no secret glances and jokes, damn, she didn't even smile at him anymore.

But he had to accept it. It was her choice and she had chosen Hood.

He missed her more than he had ever missed anyone. He had never realized just how much he valued her company, romantically or not, until it had vanished.   He was hoping he could chat with her next week. They were all headed out to the lake for Ashton’s birthday. No internet, no club, just the wilderness and them.

∆

There was no denying that Demi had been through her fair share of trauma. She had spent years putting herself into harm's way to save those that couldn't help themselves and to bring karma on those that deserved it most.

Each and every time she endured it, survived it, it altered the small pieces of what made her her, it altered her DNA. This past month had been a month of healing but unlike times before where she'd let loose and seek adrenaline, she felt herself settle into the solitude of her mind- wrapped comfortably by the protection of Calum.

She gave herself to him wholly and boxed up her past and left it to rot on a shelf. Calum understood her need to not discuss the recent past and was quite happy to oblige her with the need of distraction.

Demi had taken on more groups with Blake and supported the club behind the bar on nights when she couldn't escape the aching hollowness in her chest. She awoke before the sun and didn't rest until well after the first shine of the moon.