(V) More Than Anything

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Rattling taunted the young boy. A snake rattle jingled in his head like a tune, with a bass of his heart beating like a drum. He'd lost consciousness of who he was.

With bare feet, he kept running, advancing on the docks, every stack of wood jumping and shaking under his feet as he took powerful steps.

At the end of the long docks, he saw Calum. He laid there, motionless, his head down against the ground. Lifeless.

With every step the young boy took towards Calum, his obstacle seemed to get further and further, the finish line becoming narrower. He could run like an Olympian but nothing he did seemed to get him closer to grasp his target.

After exhausting every fibre in his being, he finally managed to reach Calum. When he reached Calum, he was hyperventilating, his bones were sore and abused and so he just dropped, grabbing what little life remained inside his body. "I found you," Luke sighed.

He began tapping Calum's cheeks. Luke's hands were so small against Calum--he had the body of a child. He kept tapping Calum's cheeks  harshly, slapping him.  "C'mon," get up.

Realization set in that Calum wasn't breathing. His body was cold. Water oozed out of his blue, frozen lips.

Luke immediately tried to do CPR on him. He did mouth to mouth, he pounded Calum's chest with what strengths he could--to no avail for he was an infant now. His dainty hands could barely hold Calum, much less bring him back from that dark place. His methods wouldn't work this time. And so he pounded Calum's chest, and he pounded, and tears started to form just under his lashes. "Not now."

Then Calum opened his eyes, he didn't breathe, he didn't move a muscle. His body was still cold and dead, his lips were still blue and water still overfilled his lungs where oxygen should take place. But ever the less; he spoke. His lips moved like they were controlled by a puppet master, tied by strings. "You killed me."

...

Luke's eyes opened up slowly. His room had large windows, which were the worst thing when waking up from a hang over. Right away, they strike him in his blue pupils, making him groan and resulting in him covering his face with a pillow.

Once again, drinking had gotten the best of him. Nothing went the way he planned, and atop that he screwed Calum. He didn't regret doing it--except he did.

How could he be so weak--after everything, he was still so weak. He was a cliche. No matter what he did and how he was hurt, he was always rent less to let Calum back into his life, like putting a bullet back in the wound. And Calum always came back, he must've understood how things really played out--he held all the power cards.

He lacked focus, and he lacked drive. And because of that sole fact, Luke would always be pushed around by him unless he took a stand.

Luke's room door was opened, and he watched as Calum walked back in. He wasn't wearing any clothes except for the Calvin Klein underwear strapped around his thin waist. He was holding a small bottle of a clear substance. No doubt alcohol, because lord knows Calum loves his alcohol in the morning. It gave him focus--or something.

Luke right away sat up when he saw Calum. He didn't know what to say or what to do. He simply sat back against his head rest, watching as the white lights from his windows shun on Calum. Cal stood in the middle of the room, in front of Luke's glass doors, giving him an almost dramatic backdrop of the beach.

He was beautiful, and therein Luke was speechless.

Luke still didn't say a word as Calum came around his low riding bed. The bed slightly tilted as Calum sat it. He crossed his legs and handed Luke the bottle.

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