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"Michael?" Luke asked as he went outside, holding a blanket around his shoulders.

"Yeah?" Michael asked.

It had been about an hour since Michael left Luke sitting at the table. Luke was ready for bed but he wanted Michael there with him.

Luke walked over and sat down on the patio step next to Michael.

"Babe, go inside. You can't be out here." Michael said, not wanting Luke to have an allergic reaction.

"Michael, I don't care." He whispered, laying his head on Michael's shoulder.

"Luke, seriously. I'll be upstairs in a minute." Michael said.

"Yeah, and then you'll have to get in the shower, and then you'll have to brush your teeth until the smoke is gone, and I'll already be asleep. Then you'll wake me up before you leave, so I get to see you for 30 seconds and then you'll come home and go outside and smoke, and then come in and spend an hour in the shower and brushing your teeth so you can finally say hi to me, and then you'll want another cigarette, and it happens all over again." Luke said, and stood up.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Michael asked, looking up at Luke.

"I'm just tired of being by myself all of the time." Luke said as Michael put his cigarette out.

"Luke, I'm sorry." Michael said, and stood up too. "I just... You know how I get when I don't smoke. I get all jittery and I can't focus and sometimes I get mad." Michael said, and Luke sighed.

"I understand. My separation anxiety doesn't understand though. I need you to be here with me sometimes.." Luke whispered, and Michael sighed.

"I know, Luke but my attention can't always be on you." Michael said, and Luke frowned.

"It never is. You care more about those damn cigarettes than you care about me." Luke said, and Michael rolled his eyes.

"That's not true, Luke."

"It's what it feels like." He said softly, looking back up at Michael. "You just left me sitting in the kitchen by myself. I wanted to spend time with you tonight but you left me alone again."

"You knew when you started dating me that I would have to take time to smoke. Why are you just now complaining?" Michael asked, walking into the house, Luke following.

"Michael, I'm not trying to arg-"

"At this point I thought you would have gotten the point: maybe I don't want to spend time with you." Michael said, and Luke hugged his arms around his stomach.

"I'm just as tired of you as you are of me." Michael said, and Luke shook his head.

"I'm not tired of you. That's not what I'm saying. I just-"

"You're always so clingy and it's pathetic." Michael spat, and Luke sniffled, keeping the tears in his eyes.

"I- I'm not tired of you. I love you, Michael. I just need more time with you. I wanna feel like you actually still care about me. I need you just like you need your dumb cigarettes. I'm tired of feeling so alone even when you're here." He said, and Michael's face fell.

Luke was just lonely.

"I- Im sorry. I didn't know I was being clingy. Are you... Are you really tired of me?" Luke whispered.

"Of course not." Michael whispered, finally putting out his cigarette.

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