strangers ✰ lashton

twenty-three

It's been a week. 7 days. 168 hours. 

Nearly a week and two days, and Luke has almost caused two holes in his apartment building wall. He convinced himself that 

'It needs the decoration' 

as the wall was built of dirty, plain brick with nothing but a small movie ticket taped in the center of it. Whenever he had first moved into the one bedroom he decided that the brick wall would be a place for him to keep his finest memories. However, his mental health got the best of him and he was left with nothing other than a ticket from a movie he went to see with his mother. This , of course, only made Luke want to punch the wall more. 

He could feel himself slowly becoming less and less alive. He continued to take his medication, sit outside, treat himself to peaceful baths and a nice dinner. He went to the gym and made sure that he got ready every single day in a nice outfit, but it didn't seem to stop him from ending up in bed at 3:30 p.m every day and never leaving until the next day. 

Today was different, though. Today, Luke was on his 9th day since The Park Incident happened and he was ready to get over Ashton, so he decided the best thing to do would be to go out for drinks. The problem was that he had only pressured himself into getting over the giggly boy, he wasn't truly ready in the slightest. Yet he got ready, sprayed himself in cologne, ate a mint, and even winked at himself in the mirror a couple of times. Soon enough the clocks hands hit the time of 3:30 P.M but rather than laying down today, he stood in front of his front door. He reached for the door knob and then quickly dropped his hand. This happened over and over again before he sighed and muttered to himself 'come on Luke get a hold of yourself'. 

Luke finally opened the door and took a step out. He stood one leg out, one leg in, and his hand on the doorknob for a few seconds before he stepped into his home again and shut the door. He turned his back to it and slid down until his butt reached the floor and his head was in-between his knees. It was now 3:45 and he had yet to leave his house.  All because of Ashton. He was ready to throw the towel in and come to terms with the fact that he was madly in love with this kid. He was ready to just lay down and think about him until morning, like he had been doing the past 8 days. 

But the more he thought about Ashton the more angry he became. Soon there was a fire burning inside of him and he could feel it blazing in his fist and in his eyes. How could Ashton move on from being so in love with Luke? Luke hadn't stopped loving him since the day he left Ash on the ground. Luke had cried and cried and put himself through so pain because he couldn't believe that he hurt someone like that. Especially someone who he loved so dearly. Luke recovered on his own, using Ashton as a source of motivation, only to come back to nothing but his lover with someone else. And yeah, Luke was the one who left and didn't come back until nearly a year later, but goddammit if Luke could stay in love with him for that long why couldn't Ashton do the same? How could he not even say anything to Luke besides his made up names? How could he have so much time to think of what to say when Luke came back and all his sorry self could mutter out was a few nicknames? And just like that, Luke was out the door. 

He wiped his eyes and sniffled a few times before he was fine. Eventually he made it to his favorite bar Shamrock. He loved the place because he had become friends with a fellow drinker, Ben. Except Ben was an actual alcoholic and Luke only had a few beers before he tapped himself out. At first glance, Ben looked like a good-for-nothing drunk who had no real purpose, and while that would be a correct assumption, Luke loved him anyways. It was probably because the drunks's name reminded of him of his own brother.