Clean ⇔ Cashton ✓

Give The Bruises Out Like Gifts

CALUM

I wake up to the sound of my obnoxious alarm, its high pitched shrill ringing sharply in my ears. The air is cold around me, making goosebumps rise over my skin. I groan, squeezing my eyes shut as I push the sheets off my legs.

My hand stretches out to the other side of the bed, searching for the familiar feeling of Luke's warm body pressed against mine, but my thoughts become muddled when I feel only cold sheets instead. I choke a little and sit up quickly, ignoring the way my head spins and my eyes go dark. I don't want to make him angry by being late. He absolutely hates it when I'm late. The sudden movement makes a dull ache travel through my body, sharp pain shooting through my leg from yesterday's events. I had forgotten to wash the dishes after dinner, and he was furious.

I manage to stand up, walking slowly across the glossy hardwood flooring to get to me and Luke's bathroom. The tiles are cold under my feet as I stand in front of the sink. I look up into the mirror, wincing at the sight of my reflection. Leaning in slightly, I lift a trembling finger to touch the darkened bruise on my cheek. It's a mix of purple and blue, another reminder that I've got to keep it together. Mistakes aren't acceptable with Luke. They never are.

I frown a bit, tearing my eyes away from the mirror to open the cupboard, taking out the foundation and concealers. I quickly apply it over my bruises, smoothing it over to make my skin look clear, void of any cuts or bruises. I sigh and put it away, quickly brushing my unruly hair that I want so badly to get cut, but Luke likes it long. Likes having something to grip onto.

I halfheartedly run a toothbrush over my teeth and head back out of the room, walking towards our closet. I put on a white long sleeved t-shirt to cover the marks on my arms, just like Luke wants me to. I change into black jeans and Vans, quickly grabbing my phone before rushing downstairs.

I see Luke standing in the kitchen, his lean body dressed in a fitted suit. His blonde hair is tossed almost carelessly over his forehead, but his firm expression gives him the look of superiority everyone is accustomed to. He's sipping at a mug of coffee, the other hand tapping impatiently on the kitchen counter top. Luke looks up when I enter the room, and he sets down his coffee, the glass mug clanking against the granite. I watch him as he grabs his bag from the kitchen table, hooking the strap over his broad shoulders.

Luke makes his way towards the front door, pausing when he stands in front of me. His blue eyes look me up and down. I nervously fiddle with the hem of my shirt as he does, avoiding eye contact. Luke then nods approvingly and says, "You look nice."

I smile, relief filling my veins as I happily perk up at his words. Luke turns on his heel, continuing to the front door.

"Thank you," I say happily, and hurry after him. Luke opens the front door, placing a hand on my back to lead me through the door frame before stepping after me, turning around and locking it.

Luke grips my shoulder as we walk towards his car. His hand presses my body closer to him as we walk down the sidewalk, my footsteps faster to keep up with his. Luke's car, a sleek and almost obnoxious shiny black vehicle, sits in the driveway. Luke opens the passenger door, jerking his head towards the seat inside.

"Get in." he says. I hurry to do so, sliding inside and bucking the seat belt as Luke gets in the other side.

Luke begins driving me towards the restaurant where I work, not speaking for the most part. I stare at him as he drives, his eyes soft as his fingers tap on the wheel to a beat in his head. His teeth graze over his bottom lip, catching on the ring piercing his skin. His eyes cut over to me when we reach a red light, smiling when he sees me already looking at him.

Luke really is a good boyfriend. The best you could imagine, honestly. He's well-liked by everyone in this city-- you couldn't even bother trying to find a person who didn't know Luke Hemmings's name. He carries himself well-- chin always high and shoulders set back, an award winning smile on his face. He makes sure that I am well-loved and well cared for, not even hesitating to pull out his wallet for the most extravagant and highly priced items I may even think of wanting.