vanilla // lrh

thirty five

"Are you going to get it or should I?"

Ashton kept his eyes on me, waiting for a response.

The knocking at the door had not stopped, and if anything, grew more furious. The hits against the wood were heavy, and quick.

I didn't want to answer it. I didn't want to talk to whoever stood behind it- especially Luke.

After hearing only a glimpse of Ashton's story, I knew more about Luke and the entire boxing community than I did in six months. 

"I can get it, Els." Ashton offered, his drunken state not as evident. Sometimes it was hard to tell when Ashton was drunk, because he almost always was.

I think I was unresponsive, as soon as I could blink my eyes it seemed he was already approaching the door. 

The pounding against the door finally stopped, as the door opened.

Ashton's body prevented me from seeing who stood in the doorway, at first. A faint hand grabbed Ashton's biceps, pushing themselves into my apartment.

A frantic Michael ran over to me, kneeling to be eye level, as I was on the floor.

He looked panicked, his hair as if he was trying to pull it out of his head. 

"Eloise, listen to me," He said, grabbing me by the hand.

"You need to get out of here, now. I'm afraid for you. I-I just don't think you're safe. I'm so scared Eloise, I-"

"What is happening? Where is everyone that is at your house? Are you okay?"

"I-I'm fine," He breathed, his eyes darting back and forth. "Listen, I'm really high and that Is probably not helping by any means but I promise I'm not bullshitting around. I-I'm scared."

"Why are you scared?" I asked, beginning to panic myself. There were a million different possibilities running through my head as to what could be scaring Michael this terribly. 

"I saw-"

And before Michael could finish, or maybe he did finish, but all of my attention was lost as Calum came running through the door, with a man leaning against his shoulder. The man's head was hanging, his hand covering his face too.

"What the fuck is going on?" Ashton yelled from the doorway, making his way over to the couch where Calum sat the man. Calum's state was just as frantic as Michael, if not more.

The man lifted his head, wincing in pain.

It was Sawyer.

His face was so covered in blood that it was difficult to tell for sure that it was in fact him. His shaggy hair wet from the crimson, along with his t shirt. He was crying, violently, and the blood continued to ache from him. 

"We need to do something to help him!" Calum exclaimed, standing from the couch. "Do you have some towels? First aid? Anything?"

"The bathroom is the first door you see if you go down the hallway. We should take him to the emergency room, shouldn't we?"

I tried to remain as calm as I could, but seeing four men that I had always known to be excellent at keeping it all together as frantic as they were, I couldn't help but join them.

"We can't." Calum said, quickly, and running off to the bathroom.

"Why didn't he just kill me?" Sawyer screamed in pain, gripping his palm around his face. 

"Who?" Ashton asked, and I feared the answer.

It had to be Luke. He had to be full of rage after what happened at dinner and probably figured something was going on with Sawyer and decided to take his anger out on him. It was all my fault.