Proxy [l.h]

13. Flights Back Home and Distractions

Hey guys, I love you for waiting so long for updates (you're the best readers eva). And there's quite a lot of POV switches/editing mistakes in here so watch out xx

«DAY 9» 

Luke

The reason that Luke started sleeping with Amber wasn't just because she was hot, or that he was horny, or that he wanted to piss Michael off. I mean, there was a reason but first of all, she kind of looked like a lot of things. She had brown hair (Jane's was blonde, but still...) and brown eyes. Slightly rounded cheeks, just like Jane had before the drugs started entering her system and sucked the life out of her. It seemed that two years ago, everyone reminded Luke of her. 

And even Amber's constant scowling face had the same effect. In fact, like Amber, Jane wasn't always the smiling, sunny girl Luke knew. 

There was a particular night that he visited the sick girl in bed, that he remembered the most clearly. Jane was crying. Luke, again, wasn't supposed to be visiting, but he'd paid off the young intern to let him inside for ten bucks a minute. Luke couldn't see a lot of her face at this point. Even after she returned from her second surgery, there were scars on her face and purple bruises still being healed. It was just a few days before she'd disappeared. 

Luke could see her writhing, her knuckles bruised from biting them in pain, and her lips only parting to let out moans of distress. Every flutter of her eyelid or a bite on her pale skin stirred a deep guilt inside him. Just earlier he'd heard her brother had been taken away from her, although he didn't know if she knew of this or not, in her barely-conscious state. He didn't know where the boy was taken to, but he knew it wasn't good. 

It wasn't that he didn't want to look at her. He did. But he couldn't, not really. He was afraid she'd open her eyes and she'd see him, or that he'd see the pain in her eyes.

Instead Luke looked at her left hand, which was curled up on her chest, no doubt going to leave scars at the rate she made her knuckles bleed. She tried to bite down on her skin once again, but Luke pulled it away from her teeth and held tight. He was careful not to hurt her, but forceful enough so she couldn't move.

He stayed that way for a while, just holding her hand, until the door opened and the intern walked in. His expression was calm but wary, taking note of Luke's protective stance by her bed. "You have to leave, it's time to administer her medicine," he said.

Jane suddenly stirred in her shift of consciousness, surprising Luke. She slipped her hand out of Luke's as she let out a pained groan that sounded like a 'no', but pathetically fell back on the mattress. 

Did Luke hear that right? Or was he going crazy? He looked up at the intern, who shrugged.

"She's been trying to reject the morphine lately," he said pitifully, shaking his head at Luke. "But she needs it more than she thinks."

"I don't- he-" Jane moaned, the sound sending a scurry of chills up Luke's spine. He just brushed it off as nerves.

The machine by Jane's bed whirred loudly, like a wind-up clock. In the midst of it, he met the young intern's eyes. His name tag said 'Aiden'. He seemed about five to ten years older than him, with wide, gray eyes and pale-blond hair and a big physique. Luke hated the way he stood and the way he talked, even the way he carried himself.

"Take care of her," Luke blurted stupidly before he turned around and left, without much argument. 

+

"Jesus Christ," I hear myself moan, then a second later I'm tumbling out of bed in a drunken heap. It's not an unusual feeling, but I do feel like I'm going to throw up, and Lissa looming over me with those worrisome doe-eyes don't do any good. I push her out of my way and somewhat haul myself to the toilet, retching into the bowl as soon as my knees hit the floor. A second later, Lissa's on me again, patting my back like my mother used to do when I was five and I had food poisoning.