Words (Muke)

Nineteen: Seclusion

"She had secluded herself from a thousand natural and healing influences; that, her mind, brooding solitary, had grown diseased, as all minds do and must and will that reverse the appointed order of their Maker . . ."
~Charles Dickens, Great Expectations

Michael had been trying his best to make it gradual. Over the past few days he had claimed to be sick and he wouldn't talk to Liz, Calum or Ashton, only muttering a few words to Luke and never once responding to the boy's soft I love you's. It had been breaking his heart and each moment of seclusion felt like a knife being driven into him repeatedly.

He was going to do it today. His clothes were all stuffed into a duffel bag along with all his money and his phone. He was wearing Luke's shirt under his sweater though because he didn't want to have to give up the boy quite yet. Liz had let him stay home from school again since he was 'sick' and so he was waiting in Luke's room. The stained red gauze on his wrists needed changing and he didn't even bother to check the gauze on his thighs. But Luke would be home any minute so his self-inflicted wounds could wait.

The door opened and Michael took a shaky breath trying to calm his nerves. "Mikey?" Luke's voice drifted up the stairs but the boy in black didn't respond. He was hardly breathing. He didn't want to do this, not in the slightest bit, but he was trying to spare everyone pain. He was trying to save Luke. And if that meant hurting him now then that's what Michael would do. "Mikey?" the door opened but Michael's head was hanging low hiding his tears from the blonde. "Baby? What are you doing? Why do you have that bag?"

Luke wasn't stupid. He knew exactly what Michael was doing. Michael was leaving. After all the time they'd spent together and everything they'd done. After all the promises of forever, ever. And Michael was just going to leave. He was just praying Michael would tell him something different.

"I'm leaving,"

The voice didn't belong to Michael. This was painfully obvious to both of them. In his attempt to mask his pain Michael masked himself. The voice was flat, monotonous and, well, dead. And that scared Luke tremendously.

"You can't leave. You have nowhere else to go right? You have to stay," Luke refused to accept Michael's decision.

"I can do whatever I want. I have my own house with my parents. I don't have to do anything,"

"You can't go back to them. I won't let you. You can't leave me. We're supposed to be a couple, Michael. That means we talk about these things together,"

"You can't decide what I do, Luke. And thanks for bringing up the couple concept. I want to break up," This time Michael's voice cracked. The flat, monotonous, dead voice fell away and Michael looked up to reveal his tear stained cheeks and watery, tear-filled eyes.

"No," Luke refused.

"Luke, please. Don't make this any harder," Michael begged.

"It's not hard at all, Michael. We're not breaking up," Luke said.

"Luke," Michael's voice was frail and weak. A perfect image of the boy it came from.

"Baby please. I love you alright? Whatever's going on we can get through it. Please don't shut us all out,"

Michael sobbed. It was a terrible heart breaking, gut wrenching sound, and there was nothing either of them could do to stop it.

"Luke, please,"

"Give me a reason, Michael. Give me a good valid reason,"

"I don't want to hurt you, Luke," Michael whispered.