Crumble • lrh {Insanity book 2}

nineteen

BEFORE YOU HATE ME

I'm just using this chapter to build things up bc the next one is going to be long af and its gonna have everything happen in it and I'm hella excited. I'm sorry if yall expected this to be that chapter, bc it's not. BUTTTT v important stuff still happens in this one and yeah. hope yall like it xx

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I know it's wrong.

I know it's so, so wrong for me to be running to his rescue like this after the past few days, but I don't have a choice.

Carlisle promised. I think, anger bubbling in my chest. He fucking promised.

I shove through the crowd of people, working my way to the door to the back of the stage. When I reach it, I ignore the angry shouts from one of the workers and sprint down the hallway, searching frantically for a tall blonde quiff. When I get to the green room, Michael's already pounding on it, followed by Ashton and Calum.

"Luke, come on, just open the door!!!!" He yells, looking worried as hell, fists repeatedly coming down on the door.

There's some small sounds coming from behind the wood, but I'm pretty sure I'm the only one that's recognizing them.

"N-No, y-you can't-" Lukes muffled cries are making me even more scared, and I join Michael on pounding on the door.

He shoots me a nasty glare before grabbing my shoulder hard to pull me backwards. "What the fuck do you think you're doing? You are not-"

I grab the front of his flannel shirt, yanking it until he's only inches away, boring my eyes into his as if to get the message across. "Clifford, you have to trust me."

Michael freezes temporarily, and I use the opportunity to knock sharply on the door.

"Luke?! It's Mack, please let me in!!"

This time, the sounds get closer, and the door opens so fast I barely get in in time before Luke is slamming it shut again, locking it with one hand, his head being in the other.

He's shaking even harder now, and he's tugging mercilessly at his hair, clamping his eyes shut. The first thing I can think of to do is grab his wrists and pull his hands from his hair, dragging him over to the battered couch and forcing him to sit down.

"Luke, can you hear me!?" I let go of his wrists and grab the sides of his face, trying to get him to open his eyes. Tiny little gasps are leaving his lips, and I can tell he's trying as hard as he can to keep quiet.

"Y-Yes." He squeaks, gripping on to the couch cushion for dear life. A few tears leak out of his tightly closed eyes, and I wipe them away with the pads of my thumbs.

"Can you open your eyes? Or does he have you?" I ask, gulping and trying to keep myself calm. If I start freaking out it won't help anything. I glance at my watch, seeing it's almost 10.

Shit, of course everything has to screw up.

Luke reaches up to grab my wrists, squeezing so hard I suspect they might bruise, and his eyelids flutter aimlessly for a few seconds before they open, very, very slowly.

They're blue, thank god, bloodshot but blue, and I sigh in relief.

But then the red dances across the sea of turquoise and the relief is gone.

Luke clamps his eyes shut again, squeezing down harder on my wrists, and a sick thought creeps into my mind.

"Luke, let him have you." I tell him, and he opens his eyes again briefly, gaze horrified.