black hoodies | muke au

22

Luke still felt strong feelings of affection towards Michael, as he slept on a blow up mattress on Luke's floor and Luke looked down on him from his bed.

Just as he had before they had ever spoken. A lot of things had changed in a few weeks, Michael had come out, Luke lost his best friends and gained a new one.

Luke had a new found love for the colour black on clothes, sometimes borrowing Michael's black hoodies.

He was wearing one as he laid in bed, his duvet pulled up to his chin and the hood around his head.

Luke enjoyed the comfort of them, the soft fleece lining and the smell of expensive cologne that Michael's dad had bought him before he left.

Luke missed his dad too, a lot. Sure, his mum's boyfriend Archie was alright, but he wanted his real dad, not a rich guy with curly hair who exchanged awkward conversation with Luke.

Luke's dad had died in war after a bunker was blown up, killing a dozen of strong men that his dad had talked about when telling stories of what they did when they weren't fighting.

His dad wasn't a key piece to the war, he was just an average soldier. He had died when Luke was six years old, and in a few days it was the ten year mark of his end.

Luke had a picture of him on his wall, smiling in black and white. Michael had seen it when they were talking but had chose to ignore the imminent question of who he was.

Luke preferred to keep it quiet, through the eight years he had been friends with Ashton and Calum, they thought he had run off with a younger woman.

Luke liked to make it sound that way, the way that softened the blow of why Luke was depressed through his childhood.