All The Stars We See // muke

chapter one

It was winter. It had to be. The air around him was so cold that it burned his skin into a rose shade of red and wracked down to his bones where they shook with need. But someone held him still. Someone's arm, skinny but warm, was splayed across his chest to keep him pinned motionless and another one was pressed tightly against his own to his right.

There were sirens blaring louder than airplanes taking off over his head: reds, blues, even whites flashing almost comically against a house that looked too foreign to have been his but too familiar to be a stranger's. He's sure he's seen the black and white cars before — somewhere not just then in their spot just a couple of feet in front of him.

Why were they there? What did these people want from them?

Screams. Loud, ear piercing, almost horrified and pained. Who was it? Where did they come from? Everyone surrounding him was blurred, faceless, emotionless.

Was it him?

"Luke."

What was happening?

"Luke!"

Who was that staring in his direction from behind the caged window?

"Luke Hemmings!"

*

He woke up with an out-of-body jolt strong enough to rattle his heavy bed frame, his eyes wide and heart hammering as someone pounded heavily on his door. His heart paced in time with the rapid knocks, quick and unrelenting while sweat was pouring from his skin and causing sheets to stick to his skin as if they were his clothes. Two seconds he needed, just a couple of moments to separate his dream from reality was needed, but he didn't have the luxury of unscrambling his head.

Without taking the time to catch his missing breath, he jumped out of bed and then ran to the front door, immediately pulling it open.

Angry grey eyes gazed back at him, hard like steel and cold like the night, a familiar hold taking over his body as they glowered down at him. His right hand hiking to his eyebrow and his fingers grazing his messy hair, he was taller and bigger than the man but he still held such a strong monopoly over the beat of his heart, the vibrations of his vocal cords, and the movement of his bones.

One. Hold. His hand stayed firmly pressed against his skin, grease from his sweat sticking them together.

Two. Ahead. His eyes didn't meet his commanding officer's; they stayed pointed straight at the wall in front of him, unmoving and uncurious of his surroundings.

Three. Speak. His voice was shaking, but held steady enough.

"Yes, sir?"

"You're late." He hissed and Luke swallowed back his growing anxiety at having angered him. "Get your uniform on, Commander, and get to your class before you are put on weekend yard maintenance and late night engineering. Have I made myself clear?"

His lip curled downwards, heart racing unevenly as his arm slacked. "Yes... father."

"I expect your behavior sorted out ASAP." He stated firmly. "There are no room for mistakes, and we both know I do not tolerate laziness or failures. You have ten minutes to get on Academy premises — fifteen to get to your classroom. Do not disappoint me."

Luke nodded, and his father glared at him. "Y-Yes, father. Right away, sir." He corrected himself as the man marched away.

"Oh, and Luke?" He called as the blond lowered his arm to rest by his side.

"Yes, father?"

"Squeeze in a shower as well." He scrunched his nose up and the adult paled as he watched his commanding officer walk away.