Splintered [Complete | GB+SB]

Four: Luke

I made it down to the diner. I didn't know where else to go or what else to do. It was sometime around 1AM and all I had was my keys and the emergency $20 bill I kept rolled up in a little container on my keychain. My tailbone still ached from my earlier fall, and now my arm was throbbing and I had a dull pain along my upper back centered on my shoulder blade. I now realized that my dad's car was gone so he was off on a business trip; that and the laundry sitting in the machine all day would have easily riled her up, but this was worse than it ever had been before.

I think we all understood what his "business trips" were about, even if no one ever openly acknowledged it. I certainly couldn't blame him, he was married to the devil.

My mind kept drifting and I was so cold I was shaking. Was I going into shock? I hadn't lost any blood, or hit my head, isn't that required for shock? But this wasn't just getting a chill, this was like sitting out all night in the rain - in November, in Chicago - bone-deep and aching. I made it inside the diner, grateful it was here and that I noticed it existed, and fell into the first booth I came across. I huddled in the corner of it, cradling my bad arm against me and resting only my "good" side against the padded back, staring blindly at the tabletop until I caught a whiff of vanilla and felt another presence at the end of my table.

"What can I get you to drink?" He had a friendly voice, his accent just as light as Sean's had been, and thinking about Sean caused another ache to expand in my chest. I'd really fouled that up tonight. I must have waited too long to answer, because the next thing he said wasn't in such a friendly voice. "Hey! Are you high? If you're on something you might as well leave right now because I'm not gonna-"

"Hot ch-chocolate," I rasped out, my teeth rattling and clattering from the cold. I curled tighter into the corner, I wanted to bring my knees up to my chest - always felt comforted in that position, safer - but that would mean putting my feet on the bench seat, and that was rude. "P-please. I'm not h-h-high, I p-p-promise."

There was a moment where I thought he was going to demand that I leave, but then he was gone - soundlessly, which was an odd thing for my brain to notice right now but my head was all over the place - and returned rather quickly. Instead of setting down my drink, I saw a hand hovering in my peripheral vision holding something pale blue, and I tilted my head enough to glance over and see it was a hoodie.

"Here, put this on. Your drink will be up in just a minute." Worry was staining his voice, and I was too desperate to refuse his kindness.

"Th-thank you," I whispered, shuddering as I tried to reach for it with my left hand. I finally twisted a little to be able to grab it from him with my right, then just pulled it over me like a blanket. It was so soft, and smelled like vanilla and sugar, and warm comfort started to seep into my skin.

He reappeared again at my table, and I was so tired and out of it that I hadn't even realized he'd left. He set a steaming mug of cocoa in front of me, with just a dollop of whipped cream on it. "I usually load it with whipped cream and chocolate shavings but I didn't want you to have to fight through all that to get to the cocoa. Next one will be better, promise."

I think I made a sound of some kind, but I wasn't sure. All that mattered was how warm the stoneware mug was in my hands, how the heat seemed to radiate up my wrists and expose a twinge of something that I ignored. I fell twice tonight, odds were I landed poorly on my wrist at least one of those times. I took a sip and the rich, almost buttery flavor of Dutch cocoa and sugar exploded on my taste buds, the heat of it pooling in my belly and warming me from the inside, and I'm sure that sound I just made could be classified as a moan. I heard the man chuckle and then he disappeared again. I didn't care, all I needed right now was this hoodie and this bliss in a mug.