flipped :: lh [UNDER REVISION]

13.a is for aries

Night had always been a world lit entirely in and of itself.

Luke can't count the amount of times on his fingers that he's spent countless hours outside; he'd even gone about learning some of the constellations – mainly because he could, and also because he wanted to know what the names of the stars were (okay so he was a bit of a geek when he wanted to be).

There were a few of the constellations he actually knew the names of up that night. High above them both, the stars shining down and twinkling occasionally. It was nice. Luke always had admired the night, the silences, and prefect for writing music, for listening to music. But something he thinks, it's nice to share the silence with someone.

The streets are still, painted with silver – the moon's reflections casting shadows on the pavement before them. Trees looming like monsters with long fingers, and even the gentle sway of branches scratching at windows sounds menacing. Luke keeps his pace steady alongside Aries. Her hand still loosely attached to his own – slender fingers weaving between the spaces of his. She has the ghost of a smile on her lips, the night veiling her in an evening blue. Luke thinks she looks like she's straight out of a movie, a magazine, something of which sorts that he'd never an iota towards her being actually there with him.

Static rings in his ears, a low hum and buzz that keeps him from hearing the sound of rocks scrapping beneath their shoes - the distant thrum of cars racing by drowned out by Luke's own breathing. He doesn't even hear his own thoughts.

"Luke," she whispers. Her voice doesn't carry far through the night. She's got her nose crinkled in the familiar way she does when she's deep in thought, other hand wrapped around her own waist.

"Yeah?" He answers.

She hesitates for a few moments. Her lip pulled out between her teeth, delicately held there for a moment. He doesn't prod her, doesn't ask what she's thinking – instead he leaves her to her own musings and muddled out inquiries. "What happened with like, you and Michael – uh, Clifford?" She questions, it's genuine if anything else, and that still doesn't stop Luke from freezing up.

He kicks at a rock along their path, the heels of his feet scraping at the ground. One of the main constellations is right at his fingertips, he can almost reach it he thinks; only if he tried harder. He knew this would eventually round back to the point where someone would question him. It was only a matter of time.

"He was, like, my best friend or something along those lines." He feels her hand tightening around his own. He doesn't know why it's just so damn hard for him to talk about it and maybe it's because he gets too attached, maybe it's because he clings onto the things that he cares most about. Tries to keep holding onto things he once had.

Maybe it's because it was ripped away all too quickly from him.

She mumbles a bit to herself, long eyelashes batting gently. "Alright, so then what went wrong?" 

What went wrong – what didn't go wrong? Luke can't tell the difference between the two. They're all one and the same, and he knows it's his fault. He's mad, and full of bottled up emotions that haven't been tapped into in a year because he tries so desperately to hold on to them all. Keep them contained and under hatch for as long as humanly possible. It may not be Carver, or Natalia, or the fact that he's here in the midst of Australia with a beautiful girl at the late of the hour, but maybe it's all those stitches that have come undone within the last few seconds she's tapped into those emotions.

Now that's what scares Luke the most.

"Everything." He sighs, his lip ring suddenly bugging him. The place on his lips burning and he has to refrain from running his tongue over it constantly.