stepbrother ➼ luke hemmings (REWRITING)

19 - YET TO BE REWRITTEN

L U K E

So, it's 10pm on a Sunday night and I'm staring at the roof of the ceiling above me, wondering why on earth I did what I did and thinking of ways I could possibly get myself out of this mess.

From the other side of the wall I can hear Sophie snuffling into her pillow. She cried her heart out just a little over two hours ago, and I guess this is just the extra tears coming along.

I'm sprawled across one side my bed with my arm outstretched to the other, hating the absence of her body. My own eyes are pricked with tears and I'm in pain, because I'm the stupid idiot who made her cry.

God, I hate it when she cries. Her rosy cheeks go pale and the tears that fall make me want to bury myself and just die, because I hate seeing her so unhappy.

She's upset with me. Fuck, she is so upset with me.

She's not even angry. When I did what I did, I saw her fists ball up and her breath hitch in her throat. But she never yelled at me, she never stomped her foot or pushed me into Aaliyah. She simply turned her heel and walked off, clutching her arms to her chest and hugging her small, fragile body.

Remember when I said that she was too nice? Yeah, this is just a prime example. And it kills me inside.

Sophie can't sleep at night when she's sad. I know this for a fact. When we were little and our grandma passed away, she'd crawl into bed with me every single night, and I'd promise to stay awake until she fell asleep.

It was hard, but I managed to do it. It took her three and a half hours to stop tossing and turning. And even then, I'd wake up to her sobbing at the foot of my bed, asking me quietly if I could bring Nana back.

I never knew what to say to her. So I just pulled her in close and sang her a song, anything, just so that she'd fall asleep again. She was more peaceful when she was asleep. It was as if she was protected from all the dangers in the world; she'd be happy, in her own little dreamland where perfect people existed and everyone was nice and she didn't have an older brother who messed up her feelings.

But now, as I stare at the white paint and the glow in the dark sticky stars I'd had ever since I was a child, I know that singing a song won't be able to fix anything.

I bet you can probably tell by now what I did. And I bet you're all screaming at me, because even I'm screaming at me.

I kissed Aaliyah, my ex-girlfriend. I kissed her and I did it because I wanted to prove a point to myself. I wanted to show her that I had zero feelings left, and I never meant for Sophie to find out.

But she did. She saw me lean in, and she saw me pull away, and she heard Aaliyah say, "I felt nothing". And she heard me say back, "Surprisingly, neither did I."

Surprisingly. Goddamnit, Luke, you fucking idiot!

I'm still beating myself up about it. I don't think I'll ever stop. The party ended a few hours ago and our parents left for their week away not too long after that.

It's just me and my little girl, alone. Only instead of getting to pin her against the bed to do unspeakable things to her, I'm in my room, alone, despising myself and hating what I did even more.

She hasn't uttered a single word to me ever since I got caught. When we were saying our goodbyes to Mom and Dad, she had a dazed, absentminded look on her face. Once they were out if the door, she sulked back to her bedroom, and that's when the tears started to fall.