Damaged

Chapter Five

"Only you can make drool look sexy."

I yelp and look up to see Lucas sitting backwards in the chair he was sitting in on Friday in the front on the classroom, draping his arms over the back of the seat. His hair hung in his icy blue eyes which seems to have grown longer since I saw him on Saturday; he wore a black and red Bullet for my Valentine shirt, a pair of gray cargo shorts, a old pair of worn out Chuck Taylor's, and his skullie. Like last time his shroud became some what clearer and I could make out a roundness at the top and something that looked like pleats going down the in rows; a picture of a raven pops into mind.

Something about the way Lucas was smirking at me and how he was sitting told me I wasn't going to get the semi-sweet Lucas I had on Saturday. Proving my point Lucas winks at me, "Your yelping really turns me on."

I wipe my hand on my jeans grimacing. "Didn't peg you as a BFMV fan," I grunt.

He shrugs. "They suck but their T-shirts are okay I guess."

"What?!" I exclaim baffled.

"You heard me," he says smirking.

It takes all my self control not to run over to him lunging at his throat screaming blasphemy. I flare my nostrils, "Take it back."

"Why? Did I hurt your feelings?"

I say nothing glaring at him. His cocky attitude and that stupid smirk of his wags really starting to infuriate me. Gritting my teeth I sigh and exhale slowly letting out as much rage as possible. "You have okay looking hair," I grunt, "why are you always wearing that skullie?"

His eyes widen a little in what I guess is shock. He slowly raises his hand to his head touching the hat that occupied it and then just as slowly drops it back to where it was. "I always asked Leia something like that." He blinks, "It rubbed off on me."

"Why wont you tell me who Leia is?"

His eyebrows furrow and his face hardens, "Because it's none of your business," he hisses.

"Did you love her?"

He narrows his eyes, his glare actually burning heat into my skin. I try not to squirm but I couldn't help it, averting my eyes I assume I found my answer.

"Why do you keep calling me that-er-her?"

He sighs glancing at me, the flare was gone but his brow was still furrowed. "You look like her; exactly like her."

"Do I remind you of her?"

He nods.

"Did you leave off on good terms?"

"She died," he says bluntly, looking at the floor.

I study his face, his forehead was wrinkled with guilt and his eyes were off in another time playing memories of a girl no longer here.

"It's not your fault."

He looks up shocked," I didn't-"

"I know, but I can just tell you think it's what you think. Lucas," I look him in the eye," It's not your fault."

He stares at me the corners of his eyes dampening. "Yes it was," he growls, "If I never came along she would've lived a long happy life."

"You think so?"

He opens his mouth then closes it looking back to the floor. "I was the only one, no other one was there. If I didn't come she would've stayed alive, at least unless another came along."

 I was confused by how he refers to himself but my curiosity pegs me to play along. "How is it your fault?If another would've came along anyway-"

"Who knows if there would've been another one! If it hadn't been for me she could've grown up and had kids, maybe even grand-kids and could've died having fulfilled something."