Paper Thin (muke)

27: lost

Luke

If Luke had woken up five minutes later everything would still be okay. He'd probably have even been able to coax Michael back into bed with promises of lots of cuddles and maybe even a quickie before they got ready for the day and joined his family in apple picking or charades or whatever ridiculously endearing activity Karen had planned for them. But he didn't, and that's how he ended up walking down the stairs to the kitchen right as Karen said, "It was a good thing what you did Michael, paying those hospital bills for him. I'm sure he was so relieved when he found out."

Luke froze on the bottom step like a cartoon character, his big toe just barely brushing the landing as his body went rigid.

Michael paid his hospital bills?

It felt like the rug had just been pulled out from under his feet. Panic started to swell in his gut, ballooning through his stomach and up his throat, constricting his airway and causing his tongue to stick to the roof of his mouth. He couldn't be indebted to Michael, he just couldn't. He never asked for this, why would Michael think that's what he wanted?

Luke's head pounded and his mouth went dry. A million questions raced through his mind, but the major one that rose above all else was how? He hadn't gotten the bill in the mail yet (and this explained why) but how was Michael able to pay off what Luke assumed would take him multiple lifetimes to accomplish? Luke was still reeling from this thought when he tuned back into the conversation and heard Cassie exclaim, "You haven't told him that either?"

Either.

Luke's heart was hammering in his chest as Karen asked what else Michael was hiding from him. Luke suddenly couldn't think straight. He didn't want to know. He couldn't known.

But he should have.

Michael was too perfect. Things were going too perfect, of course the other shoe was going to drop now. Luke really should have seen it coming, but he was blinded by love. Once again Luke let his heart get the best of him.

"He clearly doesn't know you wrote Mayfire Dawn if the way he talks about it is anything to go by."

Wait what?

Luke couldn't have heard that right. It had to be a mistake.

His heart was now pulsing in his throat as he leaned just the slightest bit forward to press his ear up against the kitchen door. The floorboard beneath his feet squeaked and Luke froze, hoping he wouldn't get caught like this, snooping in the hallway. The buzzing in his ears was overwhelming, but he worked to focus his attention back on the conversation at hand.

"I know, I know but every time I even think about telling him the truth it just gets stuck in my throat. Like how the hell do you tell someone you're their favorite author? I'm just supposed to walk up to him and be like 'hey Luke, you know that author you've been obsessed with since you were fifteen? Yeah you've been dating him for months and had no idea.'"

Luke's mind went blank as he tried to process what Michael had just said. He was M.G May? All this time, he had let Luke drone on and on about the characters he had created, his unhealthy obsession with the writer, his innermost thoughts and dreams about his all time favorite novels, and all this time he was talking to the writer himself?

He felt violated. But it was different from Calum, different from Liam. This was the deepest betrayal Luke could have possibly imagined, and he was pretty sure if he was quiet enough, he could hear his heart cracking down the center.

He was feeling so many different emotions he could barely pick them apart, but then the anger set in. A bubbling rage building up in his stomach.

He took that as his opportunity, pushing open the kitchen door and through watery eyes, found Michael leaning against the kitchen counter.