Bruised// l.h au

Chapter Twenty Three

Luke:

It was like a hurricane, how it all happened so fast, how it damaged everything. I wasn't prepared for this, no I was lost and disordered, I still fucking am honestly. There's nothing, absolutely nothing I can do to fix this, to even make it have some sort of sense. It feels like I have a trigger to my head and I'm tied down to a chair, I can't escape this disaster. I want to cry, oh fuck does the taste of drowning myself in alcohol instead of watching Blaze crumble sound so pleasing but I can't. I have to be there for her, I can't leave her again, I just can't.

From the moment I sat on Blaze's kitchen floor choking on my sobs as my eyes studied her lifelessly lay on a gurney, I knew I loved her. I fought everyday with the fact that my heart skipped a beat when her name was said, but now there's no denying it. The idea of damaging my reputation crushed to pieces as the hours in the waiting room dragged. I had to get over myself, I had to deal with the problems I made, and I did within 24 hours. And I guess this is some sort of karma, how within seconds someone, who I didn't even know meant the whole world to me, decided to attempt taking away her value life as I watched. Almost losing her, and demolishing friendships I had for years built up to who I became now, a sleepless, anxious teenager. Hell I deserve this.

As the dreadful morning skies piled over my house, I elevated myself up from my bed. My head felt heavy as the low temperatures crashed against my bare torso, having goosebumps rise to my skin. I shook it off, my hair covering my dull eyes as I strode out of my room. The fragrant smell of coffee and the ticking of the oven sent no rush of happiness as I entered the kitchen. I slowly leaned against the counter, my mother grinned at me, trying to look okay as she watched me weaken by the days.

"Good morning Luke." My mom welcomed me, her voice gentle and caring, handing me a cup of newly brewed coffee. "No sleep again?"

"Not even a wink." I plumped my body into the nearest chair as I witnessed my father walking towards me.

"Lucas." He said, positioning himself in front of me. His eyes were unsympathetic and no smile dared to surface his face. "Why are you not sleeping?"

"How could I explain that Dad. Nothing I'm about to say would satisfy you." I told him, crossing my arms over my exposed chest.

"For this girl?' He muttered disgustingly.

"She's not just some girl." I barked, rolling my eyes.

"Dear lord." He turned his head to my mother who tried to distract herself from stirring her drink continually. "He's doing this for a girl whose head is screwed off! He's destructing his body for a girl who won't matter in ten years tops! Liz don't you despise this!"

"Don't talk about her like that! And don't get Mom involved!"I howled, watching my mother wince. "What did she ever do to you? Make your son happy?" I quizzically asked him, resentment sweltering inside of me.

"Luke please don't be rude to your Father. You're just tired honey." My mother begged, her eyes watery.

I pushed my chair backwards, not even bothering to take my steaming cup. "This guy?" I huffed pointing to him. "Please I'm just a fucking money maker to him."

My eyes didn't meet his as I raged over to the closet. I rummaged through it, attempting to find anything to cover my skin from the severe temperatures and mountains of snow. A navy sport sweatshirt brushed against my shaking hand and I grabbed it like it was my life saver. Throwing it over my head, my free hand snatched my keys and wallet on the small table next to it. Walking away my father halted my actions to kiss my mother goodbye.

"How are you even going to see her Lucas? You don't think! This isn't going to work out! Lucas you obliviously don't know anything about relationships if you cheated on a beautiful girl like Tiffany! Do something you're good at! Like going on the field! God Lucas I've never been so disappointed in you! And dammit you don't even have shoes on!" My father shouted from his seat, my mother was quick to shush him.