Harsh | Punk Luke Hemmings

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Song: Constant Conversations- Passion Pit

Andy

 A night without Luke consisted of dreamless sleep. It was one of those nights that no matter what I did, I felt uncomfortable. My mind was going a mile a minute making it even harder to fall asleep. My thoughts surrounded Luke and what he was thinking or if he was feeling the same as me.

My thoughts also were on my mom and Austin. Everything with my mom seemed way better than it had in years. She finally listened to my endless screams for help, maybe it was too late, but at least now she knows. Austin on the other hand, I didn't even know how to feel. I couldn't imagine what Luke was feeling, how he was taking it. He didn't even have time to tell me, he just started yelling at me.

I know why he did, it was because he doesn't have much control of his feelings. Little things make him burst out unexpectedly, I learned to deal with them, but yesterday I was just too tired to mask my irritation. For that I feel bad, really bad for not giving Luke any advice.

I walk out into the kitchen to get some food, or maybe just look at some food, I wasn't even hungry. I open the cabinet and close it at least three times. It's then I hear some noises, like some strange moving noises from outside my apartment. I walked over to the door and looked through the view-hole and I didn't see anyone.

I then hear a groan, a deep one. I placed my forehead on the door, knowing that it was Luke, recognizing his throaty groan. I opened the door and there he was, he slumped back a little bit. His back was supported by the door I had just opened.

He finally looked up, his eyes widening from seeing me. He scrambles onto his feet rubbing the tiredness from his eyes. He staggered back a little bit from me, trying not to push his limits.

"You slept there?" I asked.

"I did." His voice was low and raspy. "I came by to say sorry, but I didn't want to disturb you I thought you were mad." He explains, he looks so tired, he probably got as much sleep as did.

"So you just stayed there the entire night? Why didn't you go home?" I ask him, confused as to why he slept outside my door when he has a perfectly good bed at his house.

He gave me a serious look, "I wanted to protect you."

I didn't know what to say. I wanted to thank him for being there for me, weather or not we weren't talking. Yet I think we still have things to discuss before we can be the way we were. I motioned him to come inside and he did. He sat at the counter, looking down towards his lap.

I sighed, "You know Luke, I really do care about everything that happens in your life. I do, I was just overwhelmed with everything I didn't know what to say." I tell him carefully, trying to not upset him.

He doesn't look up, "I know. I overreacted, it's just sometimes I don't have control over my actions or thoughts. I freaked out for no reason. I didn't tell you how I feel because I didn't know and for some reason I thought you might tell me how to feel. I thought you could tell me how to fix my issues, because I'm too much of a fuck up to fix them myself."

I understand that because I've seen him get frustrated with himself and I know he hates it. "You're not a fuck up."

"But I am, I fuck up everything."

"No you don't," I try to argue with him, but I know he is too stubborn to agree with me.

He stands up, "If I didn't, you wouldn't be mad at me right now." He runs his hands through his hair in frustration.

I almost laugh, he actually thinks I'm mad at him? I hold back my laugh give him a smile, "Luke, I'm not mad at you." He raises his eyebrow, I roll my eyes, "I'm not mad. Why would I be mad?"