eighteen » l.h

15.

Estelle's POV.

I huff as i try to find decent clothes in my closet to take with me, all my closet consists of is thin material. The place my mom lives is supposedly freezing fucking cold but i have no winter clothes. I have crop tops, shorts, and short skirts.

A knock on my door makes my turn my head, "Estelle?" he says.

"Yeah?"

"Can I come in?" he softly says.

"Sure." I say, bending down to pick up the clothes that fad fallen off the hangers.

I hear him open the door and then shutting it. I turn around, not finding him anywhere in my room. Wasn't he going to come in here?

I walk into my closet, grabbing suit case that was in the corner and tugging it out.

I place it on my bed and open it, throwing some outfits into it. After stuffing clothes into it I zip it up.

I pick it up and head downstairs, where Luke is.

"I see you've made your decision." he says once I reach the bottom of the stairs.

I nod and drop the suit case next to the door, passing by him and head into the kitchen.

"Yeah I thought leaving this house for a little while might help me." I lie.

If I had to be honest, I would stay here and say fuck it.

But I can't.

I open the fridge and pour out some juice into a glass cup, drinking it. He comes into the kitchen, crossing his arms and leaning against the doorway.

"Why?" he says, staring blankly at me.

"Why what?" I respond, putting the cup in the sink.

"Why are you leaving? There's nothing wrong with being here, with me."