Ultraviolence // muke

chapter five

" everyone has two personalities, one meant for the sun and one meant for the moon "

-

I never realized just how different I was from everyone else. 

Of course I knew, but I never realized it until I stood side by side with Luke. I was in a pale pink t-shirt with a white skirt that was a little too short. I had a white leather choker around my neck, and pink Adidas on. He was dressed in grey jeans that were a little too tight and a black t-shirt that showed off his biceps and broad shoulders. He held a cup of iced coffee in his large hand aswell, smiling around the straw as he tried to tell me something, but I was too focused on the differences between us and how good he looked.

"Mikey," he laughed and I hummed as he shook a hand in front of my face. "Are you done staring yet?"

"I was never staring." I rolled my eyes, looking anywhere but at him as I felt my cheeks burn slightly. "Stop being cocky."

"Stop giving me a reason to be."

I widened my eyes at his sassy remark and his lip tilted upwards slightly into a smirk. He took a drink of his coffee and then held it out to me. "Want some?"

"Who... are you?" I mumbled to myself, taking the cup from him and taking a small drink.

"I am Luke, but I'm just slightly more comfortable around you and willing to be who I really am instead of this overly sweet kid my mama taught me to be." He shrugged as I handed him his drink back.

"So you're not this kind, giant blonde? Kinda oblivious and kinda innocent?" I asked and he shook his head.

"I'm kind, not stupid." He smiled and I rolled my eyes. "I just know what its like to be alone."

"What if I'm not alone?" I retorted bitterly, hurt blooming in my chest since he was right.

"What if you are?" He pressed and I was silent. "I don't know why you are. You're nice, though you've given me nothing but the cold shoulder more than you've given me a warm one."

"Both of my shoulders are cold, along with my heart." I scowled, my fingers twitching as I stared at a couple of kids from school. They didn't notice me, luckily. "I'm no different to you than I am to anyone else."

"My best friend used to be a therapist, so I know a thing or two about people. You know, you show every sign of someone that's been hurt and is scared of letting people in." He spoke and I glared at him.

"Shut up." I hissed, and he looked at me wide eyed. "You don't know anything about me. We've hung out twice, and the first time was only because I felt bad for you."

"How so?"

"You're fucking oblivious." I seethed, standing up out of my chair. "I don't want to be around you. I don't want to be your friend. You're a joke and I couldn't care less if you just rolled over and died right now."

"You're lying."

"I swear to God that I'm not." I promised him, leaning over the table to look at him. "I fucking hate you."

"You're lying because if I died, you'd be happy about it. Nice try." Luke winked and stood up, setting a hand on my shoulder as he stepped closer. "Also, don't tell me you hate me after you spent the last five minutes checking me out."

I looked at him, raising my hand to smack him across the face. He nodded right after, tossing his empty cup into a garbage before rubbing his cheek lightly. "I should be hurt... but I was expecting that."

Why won't he just fucking hate me already? What's his God damn problem? Does he like being hurt?

"Fucking masochist."