The Comedown | Luke Hemmings

Eighteen

Luke's Point of View

I slowly opened up my eyes and I was being greeted by the bright morning light that flooded into my room. Sighing in comfort, I let them fall shut again as I shifted my body around in an attempt to get comfortable.

Instantly following my slight movement I felt a searing pain shoot throughout my body, causing my eyes to shoot open simultaneously as I instinctively launched myself upright in bed. An intense wave of dizziness flowed through my head, the pain across my body feeling only worse at the sudden change of position.

Staring out in front of me I took in my surroundings.

Ashton's bedroom. Same clothes as last night. All alone. A small blanket draped over me. All alone?

From next to me I heard soft breathing.

Very soft to the point where I could've easily mistaken it to be my own.

Looking down at the presence next to me I was pleasantly relieved to see that Ashton was not the one next to me in this bed.

Anna was.

She laid there peacefully, her eyes shut and still very much fast asleep.

My heart fluttered at the sight.

All curled up with her hair falling ever so perfectly framing her face.

Like an angel in disguise.

Then I noticed she was no longer wearing the clothes that I last remembered seeing her in. Her t-shirt was definitely one of mine and so were the shorts that I saw peeking out from underneath the blankets.

Did I give those to her last night?

I swallowed, slowly trying to comprehend how we ended up right here in Ashton's bed.

I didn't remember coming up here at all. Was I the one to go get her in the car?

No. I couldn't have been.

Then it hit me fully.

The fight.

Trevor.

"Fuck," I mumbled, lifting my hands up to examine my heavily bruised knuckles in shock. "Oh god, no..."

Cautiously, I swung my legs over the side of the bed before rushing into the bathroom to look at the rest of the damage.

Pressing my palms to the counter, I leaned forward to stare into the mirror, meeting eyes with myself and almost gasping at what I was seeing.

I looked horrendous.

My hair was a knotted mess of dried blood, stuck to my face near my eyebrow which had a gash over it. Each eye was severely bruised, almost worse than my knuckles were. My lips were all dried and cracked, with gashes just like my eyebrow.

Overall, not a great sight to be looking back at and I had not a single damn clue as to how I was going to explain any of this shit to Anna, and I was praying that none of the guys decided to try to themselves.