Demons |¤| Lashton

Taken By Sleep

"Ashton?" I heard Michael call sleepily from the stairs. "What's going on?"

"Shit," I muttered. I pull on Luke's extended arm, forcing him to sit up. Letting go of Luke's wrist, I walk over to a confused Michael. He hasn't noticed the knife in the ceiling.

"I couldn't sleep, and I had a headache, so I decided to go downstairs to get some medicine. I found Luke down here and he just happened to slip and fall. I didn't do anything. It's all good," I explained quickly.

"Oh," he mumbled. "It's just weird to see you two interacting."

"Ha, don't mention it. You should head back to bed. Sorry for waking you up," I glanced briefly at Luke, who was staring at his lap.

"Night," Michael said quietly, heading back up the stairs. And then it was quiet.

Exhaling, I grabbed one of the chairs from the dining set and placed it below where the knife was hanging. I then climbed onto the chair and precariously grabbed the knife.

It didn't budge. Wobbling slightly, I tugged on the knife again. Nothing.

Placing both hands on the handle, I was about to yank on it again, when I heard a grunt from behind me. 

Luke had gotten up, and was standing directly behind me, looking up with his 

black,

black 

eyes.

I gasped and impulsively recoiled. A shot of adrenaline coursed through my body as I felt myself losing my balance on the chair. Clutching the knife still firmly embedded in the ceiling, I couldn't pull myself back up fast enough to check if I had just hallucinated. For a split second, I thought that I might be better off if I never saw his face again. 

When I finally recovered enough to look at him, his eyes were pale blue. The fucker is expressionless. I'm going in-fucking-sane. 

My heart nearly beating out of my chest, I didn't waste any time climbing off the chair, abandoning the knife in the ceiling. It clearly wants to stay there. More angry than anything now, I pushed past Luke, who remained frozen in place directly next to the chair. I was sure to stomp my feet a little on my way upstairs. My bad, I should have stayed in bed. Fuck absolutely all of this.

----

"Ashton! Wake up!" Sucking in a breath, I opened my eyes and quickly looked around. Michael was leaning over me. My blankets were on the floor, under his feet. The room felt hot, and my hair was stuck to my forehead. I pushed it out of my face with the back of my hand.

"Hi. What?" I asked, squinting at him. 

"You having a nightmare?" Michael asked, his voice soft. My confusion must have been pretty apparent on my face because he relaxed and straightened his posture.

"Ah...no, no. I don't think I had any dreams at all actually. Thanks. Also sorry for stomping up the stairs. And the kitchen bit."

"What?" It was Michael's turn to be visibly confused. Was that a nightmare?

"I woke--" movement at my doorway caught my eye and I turned to catch who it was. I froze when I spotted Luke standing in the doorway, gazing at me with his

black,

black 

eyes.

~~~

This was incredibly confusing so if you aren't sure what's happening, it means this is long overdue for a proper rewrite. My bad lol