gone ✧*｡ luke a.u.

7: may 15th 2011

LUKE

THURSDAY, MAY 15TH, 2011

The sound of the doorbell, an overly cheerful tune installed by his parents after their marriage, echoed through the house. Luke heard it, but he didn't move from his bed.

The room was dark, his lights were out, his phone by his head. The notifications from his Messenger app kept going off, lighting up the screen and filling the room with an eerie white-blue glow. He didn't check them. It was just more of the same. The group chat between him, Ashton, Michael and Calum; Anna begging him for some sort of response, telling him she was done then asking if he was okay; a kid from his maths class asking for help.

There was a knock at his door.

"Come downstairs. They're here." It was Ben. In the darkness, Luke could only see the silhouette of his brother, outlined within the doorframe.

"Did you cook?" Luke asked, propping himself up on his elbows.

"With Jack, yeah. It's nothing fancy, just pasta."

"So he's gonna get dumped tonight, then," Luke said, smirking, and Ben snorted.

"You're a dick. My cooking is not that bad."

"I dunno, it's pretty bad . . ."

Ben laughed and flipped Luke off. "Shut up. You haven't died yet, at least. I'll see you downstairs."

Luke waited two more minutes before going down, and even then he was reluctant. He didn't feel like meeting another one of Jack's dodgy 'girlfriends'. He wondered what she'd be like this time. Probably the same as the rest—and definitely far too old for him, if she was married with kids. Or maybe concerningly young. 

He walked into the living room and dropped himself down on the couch. He could hear her and Jack talking by the front door, both of their voices rasping in their throats, but Luke couldn't see her. Not that he wanted to. He didn't.

"Why don't you guys come into the dining room?" Luke heard Jack say. "We've got all the food ready, I don't know if you want to eat now or later, but --"

"Now's good," the girlfriend said.

"I'm not hungry," whined a tiny voice. Young. Luke had forgotten that she was bringing her family, too.

"You'll eat, Roman." The woman's voice was still soft, but there was a hard edge to it now.

There was silence for a second, and then the sound of footsteps as Jack led the 'guests' into the dining room. Luke stayed where he was on the couch, waiting for the inevitable--

"Luke, dinner's up." It was Jack this time, poking his head through to the living room. "Just be--"

"Nice. Yeah. I get it." Luke pushed himself off the couch and walked past Jack into the dining room, running a frustrated hand through his hair. The girlfriend was already sitting down, opposite a kid who couldn't be any older than ten, an older boy, and a girl. The little kid was the only one who didn't have the same dark, flowing hair as the rest of them, though he was as olive-skinned as his siblings.

The girl looked up at him as he walked in.

He stopped in his tracks, his breath caught in his throat. Oh, my God.

It was that girl from his school, who had been in his art class in ninth grade, and barely spoke unless spoken to, and ran into him in the quad last week. Ellie. 

What the fuck?

She stared up at him with the same mortification and horror he felt towards her. Her skin had gone almost white; out of the corner of his eye, Luke could see her teenage brother looking between the two of them, confused. The youngest was just happy to see food.