15 - feelings

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Luke wanted to hit something. Or, better yet, someone.

It wasn't surprising, considering he hadn't passed up an opportunity to get a good anger-relieving punch in since he was too young to know how to properly throw one. But right now, he could feel his fingers curling, itching to make contact with something other than the flesh of his palm with his nails.

He was aware that he was quick to anger. It was hard to ignore when just the mere reminder of someone stating this very fact to his face sparked a fit of irritation to bubble in his chest. If anything, telling him this made everything much worse.

It all sounded very patronizing to Luke; 'calm down's' and 'chill out's', which never had the desired effect on him. In his mind, they were only uttered by those with a superiority complex—people who thought they were better than him, all because Luke sometimes let his anger get the best of him.

For those who knew Luke well enough, they were smart to keep their pathetic attempts at telling him what to do behind closed lips. For those who didn't know him—they were smart to figure out the memo before he had a chance to make it clear.

He just didn't have the patience to deal with people he didn't like, so, he doesn't. Simple as that. Fake smiles and kind words that became burning glares and bitter insults when backs were turned; Luke wouldn't have any part in it.

If Luke didn't like someone, he'd let them know. He didn't feel guilty about it either; for he'd much rather be an honest asshole than a lying asshole.

In short, Luke didn't play around. He let Ashton get away with sarcastic quips and low jabs because it was Ashton. His honesty, and unwillingness to let Luke's—for lack of a better term—rudeness get to him, was actually quite refreshing. He got on his nerves but he did it in a good way, a challenging way; one that put Luke in his place and kept him somewhat humbled.

As for nearly everyone else; one wrong sentence and Luke was already done. And it certainly didn't help when he already had a distaste for whoever was speaking.

In this case, he definitely did. The voices came from the room next to his, too distinct to ignore as Luke made his way down the dingy hallway. The slightly cracked opening of a door not fully closed sent words he wasn't meant to hear his way, and ultimately stopped the boy dead in his tracks.

"You're so fucking obvious, dude,"

"Shut the hell up," the voice was dismissive on the outside, but easily defensive underneath. "I don't even know what you're talking about."

Luke almost walked away, almost, because he typically couldn't give less of a fuck about whatever it was Michael and Calum were arguing about, and eavesdropping was hardly his thing.

But his key didn't click into the lock on his door fast enough, and he found himself latching onto a few particularly interesting words.

"Bro, you aren't seriously trying to tell me you don't have a thing for Lisi."

His hand paused. The key stayed still. Lisi?

It was too close to her name to ignore. Of course he had a nickname for her. And of-fucking-course it was just as fittingly cute for the girl it belonged to.

"I don't,"

Luke stepped back, feet carrying him to the front of a door that wasn't his, jaw ticking as he foolishly listened to a conversation revolving around a girl that, also, was not his.

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