Crumble • lrh {Insanity book 2}

thirty four

|may be mistakes|

important a/n at the end

•••

The first thing I notice when I wake up is that Luke isn't in the bed next to me.

I'm confused for a moment, bc I'm still wearing a bra and my shirt from last night and I'm in Luke's bed, but then the confusion turns to worry and I'm scrawling off the mattress.

I call his name when I get out into the hall, but he doesn't answer and I don't hear anything but the faint noise of a TV. I pad to the stairs and hurry down them, and I find that the living room Tv is on and there's glass shards everywhere. I bend down and pick up a few, piecing together that it's from a bottle of vodka by the lettering. Did he carry me to bed and then go somewhere?

"Luke?" I call, walking carefully around the couch to the middle of the living room, cursing when I step right on a piece of glass. "Luke where are- oh my god."

Luke's slumped on the couch, huge sweat stains on his t-shirt under his arms and his chest. There's a frown on his face and his hair is a mess, and his chest is rising and falling too dramatically for it to be normal. The TV is on, blaring some nature show about Birds. There's tiny tear tracks on his cheeks, but his eyes aren't red or puffy. I sit down softly next to Luke, trying not to grab him and shake him roughly until he responds, because that's probably not a good idea.

I set my hands on his shoulders slowly, pushing him lightly. "Luke, wake up."

He doesn't respond.

I get a firmer grip on him, shaking him a little harder. "Luke, come on, wake up."

The boy grumbles something, and his head rolls to the side a little.

"Luke." I set my hand on his cheek, giving it a few quick pats while shaking his shoulder at the same time. "Come on."

Luke groans, shifting a little, and I let out a breath of relief. "W-Wha?"

I move in front of him, bending forward to cup his face in my hands. "Luke, babe, open your eyes."

It takes longer than it should, but Luke's eyelids slowly open halfway. He squints up at me, and I take my hands away, causing him to slump forward a little. "What h-happened? There w-was static, and v-voices, and b-burning, and w-white, and d-dripping, and...... god, my head hurts." Luke manages to get out, grimacing. There's a churning noise, and Luke clutches at his stomach.

"Do you need your medicine? Can you tell me what happened?"

Luke starts to say something, but chokes, frantically pointing to the fruit bowl on the living room table and I barely get the message in time.

I grab the bowl and fling the fruit to the floor, thrusting it to Luke's lap just as he heaves forward and throws up last nights dinner, with a lot of clear liquid going with it. There's not much I can do but keep a firm hand on his shoulder and push his hair out of his face, worry and confusion swimming around in my head.

When he finally finishes, he leans back on the couch, coughing, before closing his eyes again.

I sit down next to him again, keeping a few inches between us because to be honest, Luke stinks. Pretty bad. It's a mixture of the vomit and sweat, and it's not very pleasant.

"Medicine?" I ask, my voice shaky.

He nods, not opening his eyes, and swallows.

I get up and head quickly to the kitchen, finding the liquor cabinet open and the sink running. I turn the sink off and close the cabinet door, opening the medicine one and grabbing all the pills Luke needs and a shot glass to put them in. I fill a particularly large cup full of water and return to find Luke the same way he was, except he's put the bowl of sick back on the table and his head's in his hands.